> The Alicorn Problem
>  by TheTimeSword
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Problem 1: Eclipse
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Words are, by definition, meant to convey meaning. Letters, sentences, paragraphs, syllables, punctuation. All these complex tools bring forth images in one’s mind. Life, for example, is four simple letters used to convey an individual’s existence. The term death brings the opposite picture into frame. Words share this duality. They receive life through meaning, and then die when a shorter version comes along. And sometimes, like a snake eating its own tail to survive, are they given new life, revitalizing their use. These unite as one to create the balanced, harmonic goal of understanding meaning.

Princess Celestia had no thoughts on words or snakes or the renewal process this night. Her mind focused on her sister outside the sitting room. This was their ritual every night and morning. Her snow-white face reflected in the glass that shielded her from the dark world. 

This wasn’t anything but routine for Celestia, who parted the entrance for her younger sister. Princess Luna’s exhausted eyes blinked as way of greeting Celestia before she continued on to her day of rest.

While the moon had the night, the sun celebrated life in its day. Princess Celestia’s duty, as designated by the cutie mark on her flank, was to raise the sun on Equestria. Her sister being the opposite, held sway over the moon. When one lowered, the other rose. A simple balance, never a chore, and supposedly endless. Day and night would exist in harmony, no matter the cost, for so long as Celestia could bear.

But though she commanded the sun, Celestia enjoyed the night too. With her tall frame against the balcony railing, Celestia stared out at the majesty. Canterlot stood before her. Gold and purple roofs reflected the stars of the sky like a still lake. It brought peace. Serenity. Daytime would break such calm by fetching the noisy hustle and bustle from living, working ponies. 

Only few received such a view, and Celestia appreciated it more than most would. The thousands of years she’d performed the feat made no difference. A thousand more would pass and she’d still admire the sight. But night wasn’t forever. 

The long, slender white horn protruding from her forehead lit with golden glow. She felt the sun beyond the veil of night. Celestia lifted the ball of heat into the sky and broke the dark with a cast of orange hues sailing over green forests. It struck the purple and gold roofs, and the stars leapt from the sky disappearing all at once.

Celestia savored the moment like the first bite of a honey apple. The breathtaking rays dripped down her chin. The chill of morning dew settled across her back and along her wings. Another wonderful day was upon them, bringing a smile to her face. Yet it fell. Not only her smile, but the sun! She blinked, not understanding. Upon reopening her eyes within that split second, she found the sun in the correct placement. Was it a mirage? A mishap?

Yes, a trick of the eyes, she assumed, shrugging it off. She need not concern herself more than that. And so she tossed the incident into the far recesses of her mind, gone and forgotten. There were other chores for a princess to attend to. Her mind would not sit by while nostalgia and awe had their way with her eyes.

When night came round again, Celestia stood first on the balcony. Luna second, the nodding of her head was the only thing keeping her awake. Her groggy eyes pierced through Celestia as she waited for the sun to lower. Celestia snickered internally at the disheveled sight of her sister. Luna’d forgotten her crown again, the poor thing. 

Though raising the sun remained a stunning feat after all this time, it was also repetitive. Even absent-mindedly, Celestia could lower the sun while her mind muddled in her sister’s haphazard form. To which it did, leaving the sky dark. The moment passed.

Celestia entrusted her younger to the task and headed back inside to the sitting room. Halfway to the door, Celestia’s steps ceased at a mutter of concern from her sister. “Luna?” she questioned, casting a look over her shoulder. The moon sat on the horizon with rays of light striking Luna’s dark blue mane. Nothing about the pale sphere stood out of the ordinary.

“It’s nothing,” Luna mumbled before a yawn overtook her words. “Sleep well, Sister.”

The earlier occurrence with her sun remained in the back of Celestia’s mind, while the forefront focused too much on her sister. The memory kept quiet. And so she did as Luna suggested. She went to bed. Her mind lay within a wondrous slumber. Deep sleep graced her body, and even brought her to an awakened state earlier than usual. Most would relish in the extra hours of sleep, but not Celestia. The thought of being up early excited her. It brought renewed meaning to the day. It even allowed for some morning tea, accompanied by a rectangular soft-baked sugar cookie.

Glorious hues of white marble and blue sky intertwined with the gold and purple roofs. Celestia breathed, and the city shifted against the steam of her tea, or so it looked. A shudder of cold and awe trembled down her spine.

“You’re up early.”

The voice didn’t spook Celestia, but she did throw an instinctive glance to the door. “Sometimes getting up early to see your beautiful night is worth sacrificing a few hours of sleep,” Celestia answered. She gulped down some tea to hide the coy smile beneath.

Luna shifted in the doorway, a brow rising above the knowing grin. “Is that why you’re up early? Planning out your compliments again?” Luna balked, a small giggle breaking the exhaustion that wrinkled her face. “I would say I’d stay awake and hark a sonnet of flattery to outdo you, but—” her horn lit, and her moon lowered behind the curvature of the world “—I think I’ll steal those hours of sleep from you instead.”

Celestia replied, “Sleep well, then.” 

Alone with the stars, Celestia’s sight skittered across the reflective roofs. Levitating the teacup to her mouth, she began raising the sun at the same time. Her legendary magical prowess made levitating any object at the same time as her sun seem like child’s play. Coming above the horizon, the orange hue stole the stars. Even the ones within her tea were quickly whisked away. 

In a sudden jerk of power, Celestia lost grasp of her cup. The sun shot double the height intended, then lowered itself back to her desired location, yet she hadn’t been the cause. Celestia blinked, shook her head, and took a step back. Warm tea wrapped around her golden shoe and flooded the emptiness once she retreated. The broken ceramic, the shattered bits of cookie, and the warm brown puddle lay before her. Dumbfounded, her mind tried to reason and deduce what had happened, yet the cause remained a mystery.

The morning rolled into motion after Celestia cleaned the shards and mess. Her thoughts were on the incident all throughout the day. She had no explanation. The only thing she understood was that her sun spasmed upward, then downward, and her tea fell from the shock. Reliving the moment in her mind didn’t help.

The idea of her magic waning never troubled Celestia before, but now it compelled her to return to the balcony early that night. She wondered if she’d reached her limit. The place of the fallen teacup brought no peace, and the stain had since washed away by castle staff. Celestia remembered the previous morning. The memory no longer lost in her mind’s subconscious. The sudden blink of the sun. Connecting the two brought even more worries on her limitations, some of which churned her stomach.

“You’re here early again, Sister. Another compliment, I assume? I’ve been working on a few myself, but none are ready,” Luna said as she sidled next to Celestia, appearing almost as a ghost. Her jovial expression evaporated upon meeting Celestia’s face.

“No, nothing like that,” Celestia answered. For a moment, she debated telling Luna of the strange occurrence. But upon lowering the sun, she felt no surge or snap. Nothing stopped Celestia or intruded on the process, and so she kept silent. An uneventful evening, much like every night prior. Without anything more to add, she turned to the doors and trotted across the balcony in silence.

“Is this a joke?” Luna asked, hostility in the words.

“What?” Celestia held the door open and glanced back. Her brows pulled tight at the sight of the angered face. The word jealousy ran parallel down from the center of Luna’s eyes to between her nostrils.

With a grunt of harshness in her tone, Luna came close to Celestia. “A bit rude of a prank, Sister. No need to be in such a tizzy due to a lack of praise.” She then passed by, her nose haughtily tilted in the air. Even when Celestia beckoned, Luna refused an answer, leaving the words like smoke, wafting and dissipating. 

When Celestia retired to her chamber, her comforter to her chin, she felt no desire to sleep. Her mind trembled at the provocation. It added to the strange bout of sun and tea earlier in the day, creating a wave of anxiety at the mystery. Not a wink brushed her eyes or eased her worry, and when it was time to rise, she found no reason to smile. 

Celestia dragged herself to the balcony once again. Every step felt as though she carried dumbbells on her wings. Her tired eyes fell on the moonlit city. Not even the beauty of the reflecting stars could lighten her terrible mood. 

Luna arrived shortly after, a snippiness to her attitude retained from the previous encounter. “Have you more flattery, or will we trade insults today?” When her younger sister looked up and met Celestia’s downtrodden eyes, she gasped. “Have you been awake all night, Sister?” Luna’s voice trembled. “I did not mean such hostility. I only meant to scold. The moon is mine to possess, you know I am defensive!”

But Celestia shook her head. When she went to speak, her eyes landed on the darkness of Luna’s face, and she fell silent. The dark blue grew brighter, an orange hue striking Luna’s muzzle and revealing the beautiful eyes. Celestia’s head twisted in an instant, and then her mouth fell to the sight. “The sun?” she whispered to herself. Absent-mindedly, so focused on Luna, Celestia would’ve raised the sun without thinking just as she’d previously done. But not today. Not when the moon still sat in the sky.

“Celestia. I understand you might be hurt, but there’s no need to lower the moon yourself,” chided Luna, her snippy attitude returning. 

But she ignored Luna. Celestia scanned the sky in a panic, switching between cardinal directions. She glanced over the sun twice before landing on Luna’s confused and offended face. “I did not lower your moon,” she told Luna before her teeth clenched.

“Really?” Luna’s inflection dripped with satire. “Next you’re going to tell me you didn’t raise the sun.” But Celestia’s appalled expression spoke when she did not. Her sister’s sudden wide-eyed stupor told Celestia that Luna now understood. Someone else had moved the sun and moon.





With no oxygen, the flame suffocated around the wick and created a grey ball of smoke. Moondancer released the magical bubble surrounding the candle as her eyes settled in the darkness. She could smell the little waft of smoke in the pitch-black room. It soothed her as she waited for sleep. And just like her bubble, so too did sleep pop for the unicorn. Out like a light, then in like a wrecking ball. The shutters of her bedroom window only stifled the golden rays of morning.

Most days, Moondancer would relish the idea of sleeping in. This was especially true after a long session of studying like last night. Today, however, was a red-letter day for Moondancer, and for ponykind. Waking early was not only beneficial but necessary. She stifled a yawn and rose from her fitted sheets. To her closet she went, trampling over dirty sweaters strung about the floor like a lawn of leaves in autumn. All the same color, all the same fabric. Nopony could say Moondancer was anything but conformative to her slovenly lifestyle.

Even her closet, though filled to the brim with the same style of sweater, remained chaotic in its clutter. But on this morning, with a new air about her, Moondancer chose to levitate the sweaters off the ground. She placed them in an unused hamper near her bedroom door. From her closet, she took a new garment, one given to her by a society of like-minded individuals. Today, she would don this cloak and participate in her first scientific gathering. Her induction a few days prior left her more than a little excited.

She marveled at the sleek, dark grey silk contouring and shrouding to her shape. From head to hoof, the garment hid her pale beige fur and amaranth mane, but the hood obstructed her vision. Her glasses, square and large, did not appreciate the fabric covering the lenses. After tossing the hood back, she adjusted her glasses in a mirror and decided to walk without the hindrance. 

Her face glistened in the early morning sun as she traveled against its rise. Canterlot stirred little in this young hour, allowing Moondancer time to traverse the city streets unquestioned. 

She made her way down marble streets and trotted up to an old, abandoned home. Decay and the lack of maintenance tore down this two-story residence. The sun’s bleaching rays replaced the chipped paint. Someone had taped the front door shut, and planks covered windows. A short picket fence surrounding the property appeared to be the newest addition. But even its wood peeled and splintered, and a small portion had fallen forward. Weeds now grew in between the gaps. This is where Moondancer made her way to the backyard. 

An unlucky home. It was one of few who had the displeasure of sitting against a bordering wall—a divider for another section of Canterlot, which sat higher. Perhaps the terrible view of a stone wall in one’s backyard was the reason it remained abandoned. Whoever contracted the design for such a home had no qualms of such a view, but their time had long since passed. Tangled green vines hung and clung in the cracks of the stone wall. Some had even crossed the weed-ridden ground, wrapping the limestone water well that sat in the middle of the backyard.

Moondancer traipsed through the unkempt yard, fidgeting nervously with her hood. Though none of the vines looked out of place, she’d seen the entrance during her induction and could tell where the cracks formed. But she alone could not enter. No amount of prying or blasting would’ve broken the magical seal. 

Her wait wasn’t long, though. 

An azure blue unicorn and friend to Moondancer appeared. Minuette bellowed with laughter upon seeing the cloaked mare. She pointed to Moondancer’s unbound hood. “You know you weren’t supposed to wear that until you got here, right? Your hood isn’t even up!” Minuette wore saddlebags, of which she undid one strap, levitating out her own dark grey cloak. As Minuette put it on, Moondancer watched as the mare’s features disappeared within the shadows of the cloak. Even her mouth kept a dull grey to others.

“I figured it would be early enough no one would care,” Moondancer defended herself. But internally she kicked her lack of foresight. Of course the neighbors would see her enter! Of course they’d know something was amiss!

“Well, it’s not like anypony of the society will have seen you. They’re inside.” Before Moondancer could ask how they’d get in, Minuette produced a small golden insignia. With nothing more than a glance, Moondancer could not see the terrific design. “I got mine early.” Minuette shot a grin. “Don’t worry, everyone is getting theirs today. You will too!” She pressed the insignia to a brick on the well, and a click of gears sounded off just before the wall opened. 

Only a few yards off the ground, the unfazed vines clung to the stone. A stunning tan wooden door sat on the other side. In the middle, painted in gold, was a long, slender, limbless creature chasing its tail. The doorway opened as Minuette pulled Moondancer’s hood down, becoming twins. 

Sconces of blue fire lit the inside of the large gathering room. Paintings, plush seats, potted plants, a spacious burgundy rug, and a chandelier in the center filled the room with finery. Refinement of all types fit the stereotypical society of Canterlot. The sight undoubtedly pleased the nobles, and unicorn nobles were the hardest to please. Ponies gathered around the furniture, each with their own bodies and faces concealed. Large double doors sat opposite the entrance. All the ponies here waited on them to open, chatting amongst themselves to ease their boredom.

As Moondancer and Minuette strutted into the room, the double doors opened, and they flooded in with the other members. Moondancer’s prior introduction to this area was with four others. Now, several scores of ponies filled the room. Moondancer jostled to the front and got a good look at the podium she’d seen. Unused before, now the Grandmaster rose bipedal against it. The three Masters stood as barriers between the podium and crowd. All four wore the same cloaks as the members surrounding Moondancer.

When the doors closed and the unicorns situated themselves, the Grandmaster’s voice bellowed for all to hear. “Greetings, everypony, and thank you all for coming!” Moondancer, being an initiate, had met the mysterious Masters upon her induction. Their features and names were not announced, but they knew hers. The Grandmaster had been absent, however.

Questions riddled Moondancer’s mind when she first joined. But seeing the Grandmaster, listening to her speak, it soothed her heart. The charismatic words spoken filled her body with glee as though she were a filly again with Hearth’s Warming right around the corner. “First off, I would like to thank everyone for joining the Society of Secret Sorcery! I know our introduction phase made many of you quite anxious and curious of the secrecy, but we thank you for your patience.”

The Masters unveiled silver platters with dozens of the same metal insignia Minuette bore. “To thank you initiates, we will be bestowing our pin of entrance to you! Evokers have already received their own marks, but now you initiates will have yours! Those of you from Manehattan, the Crystal Empire, or anywhere else, should be pleased to know these insignias work on all our bases of operation. Wherever you come from, and wherever you visit, you will have your own personal key to our little homes!” 

As a Master placed the pin on her lapel, Moondancer got a better look. There was one key difference between her own and Minuette’s. While Moondancer’s was silver, the higher ranks were gold. An eyeless, smiling unicorn as the logo, her insignia only had one horn. Minuette’s golden insignia had two, and the Master’s had three. An unnatural sight—a unicorn with more than one horn.

The Grandmaster’s insignia differed incredibly. She put it on as the Masters went around with their platters. Instead of another horn, it reverted to one, and wings accompanied the singular horn. An alicorn.

With the pin placed on her, Moondancer puffed out her chest. A smile peered out from the shadow of the hood. Others shared in her enthusiasm, and Minuette quietly spoke a congratulatory word.

The Masters finished, returning to their seats at the side of the podium. “You all have shown some form of magical talent. That very reason is why we are all here. Never in our lifetimes have so many powerful unicorns gathered at once. We here in Canterlot have been practicing our attempts to raise and lower the sun and moon. But today, with everypony helping, we will show Equestria we mean business!”

Murmurs questioned their secrecy, though the Grandmaster settled such worries once she continued. “Do not fret. Though who we are need be kept secret, our work mustn’t! Equestria will not know our names, but they will see our actions. Never again will we fear and wait for a princess to save us. We will take it upon ourselves to stop whatever nightmare comes to claim our magic, or worse, our lives!” An uproar of cheering and stomping ceased as quickly as it began. A view of the sun came into existence before the crowd.

Though only a reflective image of the world above them, the bright ball of fire lit the room far brighter than any sconce. “In the coming time, we will be practicing our group magic in other areas. Today will be our test of levitation!” the Grandmaster said. “We will create an eclipse. Should the royal sisters ever go missing, Equestria will survive! We unicorns will pick up the torch!”

Swept up in the majesty of the moment, Moondancer exerted her concentration with the group. Every unicorn channeled their energy. Her mind filled with thoughts of magic, her horn erupting with power. A surge of energy forced shut her eyes, and then when a cry of glee rang out, she opened them. The view of a blackened sun would’ve blinded her had the hood not shadowed her eyes. They’d done what most believed to be a Hearth’s Warming fairy tale. Something reserved strictly for the alicorns of this age. “We’ve actually done it,” Moondancer said.
> Problem 2: Betrayal
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A strand of purple hair fell forward, diminishing Twilight Sparkle’s view before being brushed aside. Her strained eyes fell back to the parchments. A sudden quiet mutter broke the silence—though she knew the cause. Spike the Dragon, who’d fallen fast asleep, didn’t budge at the movement. Twilight had no intention of waking her number one assistant. It was late, and he was still young.

After levitating the small purple dragon to his bed in the corner of the spacious room, Twilight returned to the papers stretching across the crystal table. A thousand times they’d read the letters, but no answers came from the words. “How can she expect me to solve this? There’s nothing to go on. It seems like a joke.” She tapped the signature of Princess Celestia.

“Maybe she doesn’t expect you to solve this right away. The sun and moon still rise and fall,” Starlight Glimmer pointed out. The unicorn sat a few chairs over from Twilight, and looked just as fatigued. In her lilac-colored hooves sat the third letter they’d received from Celestia. “Please investigate, she says, but that doesn’t mean we need to burn ourselves out.”

“If they’re losing their magic, if the sun and moon will not obey them, then we have little time to waste,” Twilight replied with a low, hushed voice. “Imagine a week where the sun didn’t lower or the moon didn’t rise.”

Starlight put back down the letter, setting it with the other two they’d received. “But we can’t be sure they are losing their magic. The only thing we’ve established is that it’s not a prank by Princess Luna.” Slouching, Starlight reiterated her comment from when they first received the letters. “Getting Star Swirl involved is something neither of them would want to do for a joke. It’s not them, and he claims it’s not him.”

“I wish he were here. We three could solve it in a snap,” Twilight bemoaned. “Maybe you’re right, though. Maybe it’s not something urgent. Celestia didn’t get Star Swirl involved any more than sending him a letter. She didn’t suggest involving the Elements. But if I’m going to solve this then I need more to go on. It’s got to be a waning of their power. If we have to, Cadance and I can handle the sun and moon for a week. See if things settle down.”

Levitating the second letter from Celestia, Starlight brought it to her face. She then rose from her seat and trotted around the crystal table. “Magical fluctuations wouldn’t be the cause behind an eclipse, though,” she said, pointing to the wording. “If their power waned, they wouldn’t be able to raise or lower. But everything we’ve been told is that the power surges.”

Twilight took the letter without a word of response. Leaning in her seat, she arched her back and held the parchment in both hooves, staring at the contents. There was no obvious reason for the eclipse or the strangeness relating to the sun and moon. All the justifications they came up with had more holes than a woodpecker’s boat.

A sudden glass of water suspending in front of Twilight’s forehead drew her attention. “Come on. If you won’t give up and get some sleep, at least keep yourself hydrated. I’m going to call it soon. Spike’s got the right idea.”

“Thank you, Starlight.” A few gulps of the lukewarm water didn’t help her feel any refreshed for the task at hoof, but it did allow her mind to wander. A moment of memory snapped her away from the present problem. “You know, I hoped life would settle down after we dealt with the Pony of Shadows. That things might finally be normal. I guess that was too much to wish for.”

“Has anything ever been normal for you, Twilight?” Starlight asked, and smothered a laugh. “I mean, student to Princess Celestia, then bearer of the Element of Magic. Becoming an alicorn yourself, and this castle! Even dealing with, well, me. Your life has been nothing but chaotic, so this shouldn’t be anything new.”

Twilight nodded in agreement as the memories washed over her in waves. A library within a tree brought the corners of her lips up. A sudden realization then snapped her mood like a twig. The glass sailed from her magic and sent water all over the letters. “Chaos!” she yelled. 

While Starlight glared at the spill, Twilight cried out the name she’d glossed over. “Discord! Discord! I know you can hear me!” She didn’t fear waking Spike with her screams, he could sleep through anything. Even when a gust of wind dried up the water and spun notes about the room did the dragon not wake.

“Calling on me in the odd hours of the night?” A voice rose from the gust as the papers settled. “Or is it early? Hard to tell nowadays, isn’t it? Quite the chaotic set of events.”

Parchment fluttered, and a scroll unraveled. Twilight looked for source of the voice while Starlight scanned the room. But the draconequus named Discord was a curious fellow; Twilight found an inked version of him dancing atop Celestia’s signature. He must have felt her eyes on him as his body burst from the paper, but got stuck halfway out. "Oh!" he gasped before grabbing the edges of the table. With a huff and a pull, he yanked so hard only his top half escaped. Without his legs he sat atop the table in front of Twilight, a toothy grin on his mismatched face.

Everything about Discord was unnatural. Every limb out of place. Pranks and jokes were his forte, and the overlooking of this creature made Twilight question herself. Of course he’d be the reason! “Discord, did you cause the eclipse the other day? Have you been messing with Princess Celestia and Luna?”

“So formal, straight to the point.” Discord tapped a finger against the tip of her nose. “Yes! It was me. I did it. I created an eclipse.” With his confession, he snapped his wrists together as if he expected handcuffs. “Of course, if I did, I’d have to have a reason, right?”

“He’s doing that thing again,” Starlight said.

“Thing?” Discord’s head turned to the unicorn, his limp white beard brushing a shoulder. “What thing?”

Twilight agreed, “Yep. He knows something but only wants to give it up in riddles. It’s your shtick, Discord.”

In a defensive tizzy, the mismatched creature pushed himself up and his legs unraveled. He stood atop the only letter left on the table. With both claws on his hips, he upturned his nose at the mares. “I’m a one-trick stallion now, am I? Well, for your information, it’s not what I know, but what I know I don’t know.” His eyes snapped wide as his body became rigid. “That was a riddle, wasn’t it?” he muttered to himself. 

Twilight pulled the letter out from under him. “If you’re going to have an identity crisis, please at least tell us if you caused the eclipse or not before you lose what remains of your wits," she said as she wrung out the water.

Discord regained his balance by sitting on his tail. With his legs crossed and his claws in his lap, he pouted as though it would make Twilight feel bad. It wouldn’t. She knew him too well, and saw through his charade. “You could at least play along. Fine, fine. I can tell you with impunity that the snooty sisters have not had a joke pulled on them. Nor does this have anything to do with chaos magic. In fact, I’d go as far to say it’s not an unusual magic at all.”

“Not unusual?” Starlight blinked and turned to Twilight who remained stoic. “That’s a new one. Is he saying it is ordinary magic? Are their powers really waning?”

Tapping her chin, Twilight asked, “If it’s not unusual, that means it’s only pony magic. Right, Discord?”

With a grin and a hop of his tail, the creature wrapped himself around Twilight like a snake. A low whisper held his next words. “That’s what I don’t know, don’t you see? I don’t know a thing about pony magic.”

“An eclipse. Midday, when neither Celestia nor Luna would be in mid-practice with their sun and moon.” Twilight, ignoring the slithering going on around her, lifted a stack of unused papers from the ground. “Discord, thank you for the help. If you don’t mind sticking around, we’ll need your help writing letters.”

“Letters?” he guffawed and released the snake-like grip. “You have an assistant for that.” He pointed to the snoring Spike. “Oh, fie. Well, unfortunately my handwriting is terrible!” He lifted a parchment into the air. Discord’s eagle claw replaced every character, each resembling an actual alphabetical letter. 

“Why are we writing letters?” asked Starlight. 

Discord transformed into a bottle of ink, his usual eyes staring at her from the black liquid. “A bit slow today, aren’t you, Starlight?” he mocked.

Twilight levitated a quill to the bottle, tickling Discord before striking the closest parchment. “I have to summon everyone of importance here, and then some. We need more eyes than ours. A pony out there has done what I would’ve considered impossible. They’ve moved the sun and moon. A pony who isn’t Celestia or Luna, Starlight. This is an unprecedented event of our lifetimes! I’m going to need help finding whoever this is.”





Mail is a funny thing to wait for. Most ponies would think nothing of a few envelopes arriving through the slit in their door. Moondancer wasn’t like other ponies—her silver insignia proved as much. On the day of the eclipse, the society said they would send out letters containing details for their next event, the when and where. Yet almost a week passed, and it was already sundown. News of the eclipse had spread across Equestria, like the Grandmaster said it would. And still no letter. Moondancer pined to know where they’d send her. Every day without a letter led to a night of tossing and turning. 

When the postmare finally arrived, Moondancer lazily dozed at her desk. The knocking sent her skittering from her seat, blundering over the piles of unorganized books. 

“L-letter!” huffed the grey pegasus, her back loaded with packages and envelopes. Moondancer levitated the sealed parchment, surprised by the society’s sophisticated style. “Whoa! Magic sure is handy!” the postmare stated.

“Thank you,” Moondancer replied, but as she went to close the door, the postmare handed off another letter. “Oh! Two? Well, this is a big day. Thanks again.” This time it was a white envelope marked with no return address.

“Have a good day!” The postmare saluted, continuing on to the next home, grunting under the weight of her load.

Leaving the door ajar, Moondancer examined both mailings. She chose the simple envelope first—the beautiful scroll was clearly from the society. Yet it was the opposite. The white envelope contained the details sending her east to the city of Manehattan. Her eyes lit up at the address, but her brows shot together. She turned to the scroll levitating beside her. “Then who is this?”

Moondancer broke the wax seal, undid the ribbon, and sloppily unraveled the letter to see the signature first. Princess Twilight Sparkle! The contents confused Moondancer. A summons to Ponyville, to Twilight’s castle. A meeting between ponies and creatures from all over! Her mind tried to comprehend the reasoning, but before the answer could click a knock came to her door.

“Moondancer?” Minuette called as she pushed into the opening. “I hope I’m not intruding.” Her eyes fixed on the two letters in the air. “You received them too, then?” Minuette asked.

“Twilight summoned you as well?”

“She asked the entire gang to come to Ponyville. Lemon Hearts is sick though, and Twinkleshine is taking care of her. Since they’re not part of the society, we’ll need to choose whether or not to attend,” Minuette replied after closing the door. She levitated her letter to Moondancer’s face. “They’re sending me to the Crystal Empire. There’s no way we can do both on the schedule they’ve given us. The society would have us leave tonight to get there in the morning.”

Moondancer compared her letter to Minuette’s. They were identical. A complete copy, aside from the names and places. “Why do you think Twilight requested us?”

“I don’t know. I hoped you might,” Minuette replied. 

Minuette wasn’t wrong in her assumption. Moondancer did have a few ideas, though only one was the clearest. “It’s about the eclipse. The society. Twilight’s the smartest one out of all of us from our school days. She must know something. Is it any wonder that she became a princess?” Moondancer figured. She adjusted her glasses while staring blankly at Twilight’s signature. “She might know about our involvement in the society.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to find out. If she doesn’t, we need to make sure she won’t.”

“We’re not going to tell her? To invite her in?” Moondancer’s brows furrowed at the thought. “We’re her friends! It’s not right to… to not tell her.”

Minuette leaned away, almost scowling at Moondancer. “The society is meant to protect the princesses, Moondancer. Not only Celestia and Luna. Twilight too! If we let her in on our little secret, she’ll want names, information, charts, and details. What’s the point of being secret when a villain can look up our addresses in a book?” She snorted, a frown creasing her normally cheery cheeks.

Moondancer darted her gaze away from Minuette, pretending to clean her glasses. How could Minuette even think of lying to Twilight!? A preposterous idea! Their friendship had only recently rekindled. Did that mean nothing to Minuette? 

“Why did you join the society, Moondancer? I invited you because both you and Twilight were always at the top of the class. I knew if we couldn’t have her, we should at least have someone interested in protecting her. But why did you accept?”

Moondancer struggled to find an answer, leaving the question to hang for a moment. “Being in school was one of the greatest parts of my life,” she eventually answered. “I figured I could relive some of those glory days with some new ponies. I hadn’t even thought about protecting Twilight until the Grandmaster’s lecture.”

Minuette stepped forward and placed a hoof on Moondancer's shoulder. “You and Twilight were the closest in our little group. I’m not sure why you never did stuff on your own, but I am glad you joined up with the society.” A smirk tugged her lips as she leaned in. “I mean, let’s face it. I’m not sure how I managed to get noticed before you, but I have no doubt you’ll be reaching the level of the Masters in no time. Just don’t forget your friend when you reach the top. Wouldn’t want another of our group leaving for Ponyville and never coming back.”

“Oh, stop,” Moondancer begged, hiding her face with a hoof. “You’re embarrassing me. I’m not sure I can do all that. But protecting Twilight? Now that’s a goal I want to keep!”

“Get some rest then. I’ll meet you at the train station. I’ve got to go let someone at the society know we won’t be able to make our destinations. We’ll do our best to try and make sure Twilight doesn’t find out. We’ll do it for her.”

Alone again, Moondancer stood in her foyer with the letters. Her chin dipped to her chest, slumping her posture and dragging her glasses down her snoot. 

To lie to Twilight, straight to her face. Was Moondancer capable of that? Even for her old friend’s sake? 

She forced herself to reignite the anger she’d felt when the alicorn was a unicorn. Twilight had run off to Ponyville, forgetting about Moondancer and her party. The anger built, but faded off. The grudge had died. The flames of anger washed away, and all Moondancer could think of was their friendship. If Twilight asked, Moondancer wouldn’t be able to lie. There was no doubt in her mind that it was that way. But she was thankful Minuette would also be going—she could do all the talking.

She returned to her bedroom and threw the letters on her bed. “Well if I’m not getting to go to Manehattan, I may as well put my stuff away.” She lifted the cloak and pin into the air, and then dropped them off into the laundry hamper by the door. She stared at it atop the sweaters and wondered what to do with the pin. Minuette’s words sprung up in her mind. What’s the point of being secret when any villain can look up our address?

Moondancer stuffed the cloak and pin into one of the sweaters and then balled it up. Once finished, she shoved it deep into the center of the other laundry. “There.” A lingering doubt held itself in her throat. “What am I doing? Nopony even knows me in the society. I just joined!” She reached in to remove the cloak and pin, but then groaned and gave up. “I’m already stressing over a meeting that isn’t until tomorrow!”

A night of anxiety meant a terrible lack of sleep. Moondancer packed and repacked everything she’d bring on her trip to Ponyville, before choosing to take nothing. Only the sweater on her back would accompany her. That and the haggard, tired look she wore. Minuette didn’t fail to notice the next morning. They’d arrived at the same time, the train departing shortly after. Neither talked about the society during their ride. Ponies eavesdropped, and they both were too excited about seeing their old friend. Instead, they discussed Twilight and the curious nature they both shared of her Castle of Friendship.

Moondancer didn’t expect the crystal castle to be so large, nor the amount of guests Twilight had called upon. In the mid-afternoon and last to arrive, she stepped into the foyer of the castle with Minuette. Their eyes fell on a familiar dragon. Spike hugged them both and his purple scales rubbed against their fur. He guided them along with several unfamiliar guests up halls and through entrances. The castle was a maze, but they eventually came to a room containing their old friend. Moondancer recognized the other bearers, and Starlight Glimmer was a familiar name even if her face was not.

Once everyone settled around the crystal table, Twilight made introductions.

She spoke of King Thorax first, the leader of the changelings. Beside him sat her brother, Shining Armor, and his magical advisor, Sunburst. Spike quickly rounded the table to be close by the three.

To Twilight’s left were the bearers, past them sat Starlight Glimmer and a blue pony. Twilight skimmed over the mare, but the blue pony refused the slight. She rose and made note of herself, stating her name to be Trixie. Starlight hushed the bold unicorn, which allowed Discord to make his own introduction. Of course, Twilight cut him off to introduce the final members.

“And my good friends from Canterlot, Moondancer and Minuette.” Twilight pointed to them, giving a big welcome. “Twinkleshine and Lemon Hearts couldn’t make it? Well, I’m sure you two are wondering why I’ve called you here. Involving you in this business isn’t something I’d like, but you’re really my only sources in Canterlot besides the princesses. It’s good to see you both.”

“What is this all for, Twilight?” Moondancer asked. “I mean, it’s good to see you too.”

“It’s about the eclipse.” Twilight scanned their faces. Moondancer made sure to feign surprise without exaggerating the expression. “But there’s more as of today. This morning, Manehattan and the Crystal Empire have been subject to a magical attack. A normally bright day for the empire turned into a thunderstorm. Crystal ponies were almost drowned. Vines and bramble racked Manehattan, coating every apartment and skyscraper. It’s going to take weeks to get the weeds cut down.”

“Attacks?” several ponies mumbled and whispered. Moondancer eyed Shining Armor and held her tongue. The white stallion wasn’t only Twilight’s brother but also husband to Princess Cadance. The two of them ruled over the Crystal Empire, though Cadance wasn’t part of this meeting. That must've meant she remained in the Crystal Empire with their daughter. Moondancer could only imagine how Shining Armor felt when he heard the news. Clenching her teeth, she struggled with the realization that she would’ve been part of the Manehattan project.

Discord slithered his way to the center of the table and pointed out his only piece of information. “Pony magic. That’s why we’re here.” He gave a toothy grin to a few. “I see how some of you look at me, thinking that I would be the cause. And you’d be right! Except I’m on holiday.” He sat back in an invisible chair with oversized sunglasses covering most of his face.

“Every day is a holiday when you’re not around,” Trixie chided.

“Discord is telling the truth. I believe him,” Twilight announced, a surprise to some, but not Discord. “My first assumption was that an alicorn, perhaps Flurry Heart, could’ve mistakenly created the eclipse. The flooding would’ve made sense too—but not the vines in Manehattan. I’ve also conferred with Thorax to say that no changeling tested their magic.” She paused, letting her words sink in.

She continued when the murmurs settled. “When Discord suggested pony magic, I thought it might be a single pony. After today, I am quite certain this is a group. Eyewitnesses speak of black cloaks entering the cities, vanishing after the messes. I’d consider these coincidences, but not when they’re a notable account from both cities.”

Sunburst raised a hoof. “That was today,” he spoke once he had permission. “You had some reasoning to invite us here before these attacks. The eclipse?”

With a shake of her head, Twilight pointed out the obvious. “Most of you at this table are unicorns. I’ve asked Discord and Thorax to keep their ears to the ground, but you all are my second option. I had thought for each of you to look about your cities to find the single cause. Now that’s changed. This group of unicorns, coordinated and powerful, are a problem. What they plan, I don’t believe it’s good for Equestria.”

Moondancer held her tongue as Twilight continued to talk of the rogue group of fanatics. The words were harsh, but Moondancer took them like a punch to her stomach. Twilight thought of them as evil! But vines and rain weren't anything more than tests of pegasus and earth pony magic. Couldn’t she see that? It was possible Twilight’s own pride in saving Equestria so often made her blind to the thought of others saving the day. Moondancer’s eyes drifted to Minuette who portrayed a stoicness in her expression that her trembling eyes did not share.

“We’ll be organizing a search with the guard to scour and root out these pranksters,” Shining Armor proclaimed. “The Crystal Empire will be safer without these ponies. It goes without saying that the Crystal Empire has suffered more than most under such terrible magic.”

“I can send some changelings to help search in Manehattan and Canterlot,” Thorax added. He held a proud, friendly face as his buggy eyes fell on Starlight, Discord, and Trixie. “After all, Equestria has sent heroes our way, the least we can do is share the spirit of harmony. If they want to cause terror, then they are much like Queen Chrysalis.”

Gripping the edges of her sweater, Moondancer felt torn. She held her tongue between her teeth and hoped Minuette would speak an end to these accusations.

“Minuette, Moondancer,” Twilight spoke directly to the two, a tenderness in her face. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but if you find any sort of connection to this mysterious group, please contact us. As I said, you’re all I have in Canterlot besides the princesses and my parents. The more eyes and ears we have on this, the better off we are in finding the head of this snake.”

Moondancer couldn’t bear the weight any longer. Her mouth swung open to speak on behalf of the society, but Minuette slammed her hoof over Moondancer’s lips. It was an action so swift and hard that the glasses on Moondancer’s nose flung forward off her face and struck the table. 

Though not pained, only startled, Moondancer snapped to Minuette. She expected anger, but panic reflected in Minuette’s sapphire pupils. The hoof trembled against Moondancer’s mouth. “Minuette? What’s the matter? Moondancer?” Twilight called, rising from her seat at the sudden commotion. Others around the table stood as well.

Moondancer pulled down Minuette’s foreleg. “Minuette. Should we tell her?” she asked, whispering the question.

“Tell her!?” Minuette stood up with the speed of a lightning bolt. Sweat fell off her and landed on Moondancer’s foreleg. “You heard what they said, right!? And now you want to tell them all about our secret society? What about all the unicorns working hard to keep it hidden!?”

“Girls!” Twilight called out as the room grew in an uproar. “What are you saying? Do you two know about this? If you two had something to do with this, we can discuss it. We can work it out. I can help. We can draw up plans on proper protocol. I could even create spreadsheets of your members! It’d save you from scaring us half to death!”

Feeling a flush hit her face, Moondancer went silent.

Minuette gritted her teeth as she bore her eyes down on Moondancer. “It’s like I told you. A secret on a worksheet isn’t a secret. It’s words on paper for any monster to find.” Minuette threw both forelegs onto the table and stood bipedal. “We’re not evil, Twilight! We’re going to protect Equestria without your help. You’ve been doing it without ours, so it’s time we return the favor! So please, if you’re really our friend, you’ll stop searching for answers now. You’ll let us test our abilities!”

“That rainstorm ran into a floodplain! Crystal ponies are homeless! Their livelihood ruined!” Shining Armor battled, rising to stand bipedal as well. “If you were her friend, why would you side with a group of ponies who hide in secret?”

“What’s the point of being secret if a villain can just look up our address?” Moondancer asked, surprising the table, and Minuette especially.

“Why keep it secret?” Twilight countered. “A magical defense force—”

“Is just another royal guard,” Minuette interrupted, almost pleading. “We’re meant to be there when nopony else can be! You’ve fought countless villains. How nice would it be to have a surprise force against a Tirek, Chrysalis, or Sombra, who thought defeating you all would be enough?” 

There was lots of whispering. Some ponies, even some of the bearers, nodded their head in agreement. Those siding with Shining Armor held stern looks, but they waited for Twilight to speak.

Moondancer lowered her head. The society was right, in her eyes, but she dared not go against Twilight. “Minuette. I can’t do this. The eclipse was the coolest thing I’ve ever been a part of, but that didn’t hurt anyone. Would you have been alright in flooding the Crystal Empire? I’m not sure I could’ve left the vines alone. I’d want to help cut them down. Why would the society leave after causing destruction? We’re supposed to protect Equestria.”

A flash of acceptance and anger boiled in Minuette’s eyes lasting for only a moment before simmering. “I’m returning to the society to warn them we’re compromised. Since I’m the one who invited you in, Moondancer, I’m now uninviting you. When another Tirek comes knocking, you’ll wish you sided with the ones who came to your party.”

“Minuette! Wait! We’re friends!” Twilight begged, but the cry came too late. The azure unicorn disappeared in a flash of magic to who knew where. 

A silence fell over the crowded room. It broke when Trixie asked, “You’re just going to let her go? She'll tell her cohorts! That’s like, treason or something! She’s a criminal!” Starlight quickly hushed the unicorn with a magical zipper across her lips.

Moondancer took her glasses from the table and set them on her face. Her eyes met Twilight’s as the blurriness focused, only to see the streams flowing down Twilight’s cheeks. “She’s not a criminal. She’s my friend,” Twilight replied.
> Problem 3: It's Personal
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

With the reveal of the society, Twilight sent the members of her meeting home. From Trixie’s outburst, she knew speaking to Moondancer alone would be best. Though Twilight tried to ease the awkward tension, Moondancer’s guilt remained. “I’m not mad,” Twilight reasoned. “I don’t blame you,” she’d add. “We’re still friends.” None of it helped comfort the unicorn. Everything came into the open. She eventually coerced Moondancer into bringing her to the society’s base, but only after much reluctance. 

The bearers and Starlight Glimmer came along to Canterlot. Each gave Moondancer space just as Twilight had asked of them. They had their questions and differing opinions on the society, but Twilight refused to hear any of it. She reserved judgement. Mistakes happened—nothing was permanent. Change was inevitable.

Once they arrived outside the broken-down home, Twilight wondered how many ponies it would fit. “Is this it?” she asked Moondancer. But the unicorn shook her head and remained silent as she pointed to the wall in the backyard. Twilight nodded, turned, and barked orders to the others. “Fluttershy, Dash. Head to the archives. Find out who owns this decrepit home. Applejack, Pinkie. Talk to the neighbors, see if they know anything. A bunch of cloaked figures can’t hide all the time. Rarity and Starlight, you can head in and start investigating the home.” The six went straight to their tasks.

Moondancer led the way through the downed picket fence, rounding to the backyard. Twilight’s eyes fell on the well, and she expected it to be the entrance. Glancing inside, she found metal bars blocked the way down. Only a hole large enough for a bucket could pass through. “It’s a stone here on the well, but I need my insignia to unlock it. The door is here,” Moondancer described. She then pointed to the wall of vines and stones.

“Where’s this insignia of yours? May I see it?” Twilight asked, hoping her politeness wouldn't be seen as pity. Her heart hurt for Minuette and the betrayal thrust upon them. She lost their friendship once, but did not doubt they’d be friends again once things straightened out.

“It’s at my house,” Moondancer answered in a sullen tone.

“That’s not too far. Let’s go get it,” Twilight replied. She then corrected herself with a page from Fluttershy’s book. “I mean, if that’s alright with you.”

Behind the lenses, the eyes turned sour as Moondancer shot them to Twilight’s face. “You don’t need to walk on eggshells, Twilight. I messed up. I know they never intended to hurt anypony. But they did. Once they’ve proven their intentions are innocent, I hope you’ll punish me in their stead. I owe them that for my betrayal.”

“Punishment?” Twilight scowled for a moment before the expression faded into grief. Minuette revealed them, not Moondancer. But she dared not mention that, knowing it would be a sore spot either way. “I’m not going to punish you. This Society of Secret Sorcery caused a few problems, but it’s nothing we can’t smooth over. These leaders, Masters and Grandmaster. Talking with them, finding out who they are, that’s all we need to settle this. No punishments.” 

“Won’t Princess Celestia and Luna be mad we moved the sun and moon?”

“The notion will surprise them, I’m sure. And even more so the intentions! I understand the reasoning for secrecy, and the need to not be part of my lists. But the society can join us without us maintaining it. We princesses are not alone in our duty, and neither should the society be alone. Everything will be fine. Trust me.”

Moondancer seemed to accept Twilight’s words, though her sullen expression remained. Twilight didn’t say anything more on the matter as they made their way to the unicorn’s home. Time would heal the wounds of betrayal and guilt. She could even come stay in Ponyville for a little while once everything resolved. An olive branch in the form of a slumber party or brunch, maybe.

But upon their arrival, Twilight was surprised to see Moondancer's attitude turn into an angry inferno. “They went through my house!” Of course, that was an understatement. Upturned furniture, shattered lights, knocked over book piles, and cabinets had all been raided.

The haphazard way someone thrashed Moondancer’s home felt off to Twilight. There was too much unnecessary damage. Dents in walls, silverware stuck to the ceiling, and smashed lamps with no purpose to their smashing. She found it clear that somepony angrily did this damage.

“I can’t believe this! They’re supposed to be on the side of justice! Is this what they do to someone who—” Moondancer paused. “Who threatened the entire existence of their organization? Of course it is.” She hung her head and slumped to her rump in the living room. “I guess this is what I deserve.”

“I’m not so sure this was the society as a whole.” Twilight levitated a framed picture to Moondancer. Five unicorn friends sat together in the photo. “One member, maybe. Angrier than the rest.” Twilight wondered if Minuette blamed Moondancer for the betrayal completely, and left her own inclusion out. Perhaps even coming here to find Moondancer’s insignia was part of Minuette’s task to stay in the society’s good graces. A trial to remain loyal, though not to an old friend.

Moondancer took the frame in both hooves and gripped the edges hard. Glass split further down the center over Minuette’s face. “I don’t think I can do this, Twilight. I should’ve backed out of the society and left it all well enough alone.”

“You did what you thought was right, Moondancer.” Twilight sat beside the unicorn. “When I left Canterlot, I thought I was doing the right thing too. If I hadn’t been so adamant about Nightmare Moon’s return, Celestia might never have sent me to Ponyville. If I had backed out, imagine how different the world would’ve become. Keeping yourself together through all this proves how strong you are.”

“I am not strong.” Moondancer rose away from Twilight. “Minuette invited me in because I know a lot about magic. I thought about turning her away, but then I thought of you. Joining a group of unicorns reminded me of the days we spent studying together. I wanted to rekindle the glory days of our school years. Isn’t that pathetic? To be so stuck in the past?”

Twilight held her tongue and struggled to find the right words.

“I didn’t expect all—” Moondancer let out a brief sigh “—all this.”

With her magic, Twilight levitated a table upright and set the photo atop. She then removed the shards of glass and left it facing Moondancer. “Come on. Where’s your insignia?” 

Moondancer jumped up from the floor, catching Twilight by surprise. “My cloak and pin!” she yelled and rushed to her bedroom. Twilight trotted after her as the sudden tussling of clothes rang out. “Oh, come on! My bed too?” The mattress had several cuts down the middle and was ripped from the frame. “Did they find it? Please tell me they didn’t find it!”

Several sets of the same sweater were flung into the air. Twilight knew Rarity would lose her mind at the sight of such conformity. “You find it?” she asked. The unicorn shook through balled-up sweaters, and tore open the clumps of cloth. Twilight decided to help, and by luck found one with a dark grey fabric inside. It fell to the floor with a thump. “Is this what you’re looking for?” A silver pin sat inside the grey cloak. Twilight brought it to the light and examined the peculiar design. “A silver unicorn.”

Moondancer relieved a sigh at its sight. “They didn’t get it. That’s good news.” She then described the others. “The rest are gold. The level above me, Evoker, gets two horns, while the Masters get three. But the last one is really different. A golden alicorn. It's the Grandmaster’s pin. One horn.”

An alicorn was an odd choice. Twilight tapped her chin as she finished studying the features. She then handed the pin back to Moondancer. “Let’s not waste any more time here. The girls may have found something.”

“Both of us?” Moondancer asked. “I mean, I need to clean up here, and you’ve got everything I know. I shouldn’t be joining you. Once you find out who the Grandmaster is and bring the society into the fold, I’ll still be an outcast.”

Twilight shook her head. “I need everyone I can trust. I trust you, Moondancer. You’re part of this, whether you want to be or not. And if that’s not a good enough reason, then I’m claiming it as a friendship-building exercise. We don’t get to hang out enough!” Twilight threw a foreleg around the unicorn and held her close. “Having a true friend by your side can make all the difference in the world, don’t you think?”

Though Moondancer did not give a verbal response, her return to the abandoned home was answer enough for Twilight.

As they stood in the sunlight, staring at the well, Moondancer pressed the insignia against a brick. A rumbling echoed behind them. Twilight went slack-jawed at the sight of another door. “Is that a snake?” she asked. The tan wood, the golden circular creature. It was beautiful, unique. Yet not so out of place for Canterlot. “Interesting. I’ll have Starlight jot down note of it.”

“Oh! I can do that!” Moondancer pulled out a pen and notepad from her sweater. The action staggered Twilight, and her reaction did not go unnoticed by the unicorn. “May as well make myself useful,” she said as she hid her eyes beneath her bangs.

Twilight lit her horn upon entering the base. The sconces were dark, and no sound emitted from the blackness. “They removed the furniture,” Moondancer mentioned. Scuff marks and dust outlining cleaner spots backed up her claim.

The stone walls on the outside didn’t match the inside. Old limestone blocks painted in a pale brown gave the room a sense of age. The crevices between the stones were sealed up tight. There had to be somepony who built this, someone who knew why this place existed. Its construction couldn't have been so secretive as to allude every Canterlot archive.

“Here’s where we performed the eclipse.” Moondancer opened the double doors to the room where a podium once stood. 

Now it sat barren, as though no one ever lived there. Twilight glared over the emptiness; there was enough room to hold over sixty ponies. How could so many remain so tight-lipped? “What of the other rooms?”

“I never used them since I live here in Canterlot,” Moondancer replied as they returned to the great hall. “Minuette said they were for unicorns from other parts of Equestria. A dining hall and a boarding room, I believe?”

Twilight chose a room at random and entered. She expected the room to be vacant, but it wasn't. “Looks like they didn’t have time to get everything out.” Bunk beds, though only a few remained, would’ve lined the room from wall to wall. Now, half a dozen still sat against the furthest corner. "Judging by the unkempt sheets, they had to quickly wake up and get the furniture out. That or they didn’t have room wherever they were going. No scratch marks. Teleportation? We’ll get no witnesses of ponies moving furniture if that's the case.”

“Minuette told them about me. They knew we’d be coming. Even with an entire night, I’ll bet they didn’t get everything done.”

“Which means they’ll have left something behind.”

Twilight doubled her effort. She expanded her horn's light, and combed the beds—lifting sheets, turning mattresses, and tossing pillows. Not a hair or fur settled within the fabrics, nor an article of clothing forgotten underneath. “Maybe the other hall has something,” Moondancer suggested.

"Let's hope," Twilight dejectedly agreed. On their way back to the great hall, she stopped. “Did you ever take off your cloak while you were here?”

“No. Minuette remained adamant we keep ours on.”

Instinct turned Twilight to the door. Several hooks spanned the wall—places to set a coat or hat or cloak. They mirrored both sides of the door, including where it opened into. Plenty of space for plenty of members. “You wouldn’t wear it to bed unless you’re crazy. And if you’re in a rush, you’ll forget something you can’t see.” Twilight closed the door, and luck sided with them. “There we are," she said as she lifted the cloak off the hook.

“How will this help us? If you needed a cloak, I could’ve given you mine," Moondancer asked.

“Your cloak has your scent,” Twilight replied. “We don’t know who this belongs to. Fluttershy should have a dog, a bloodhound. Something to sniff out our forgetful member.”

“And then we find the pony and convince them to help us?”

“Follow them. Watch them. Convince them. There’s many possibilities I’ve thought of—” The sounds of hooves cut Twilight short, along with the beckoning of her presence. 

They rushed back into the great hall with their prize. The front door sat open, and a shadowed pegasus hovered in the entryway. “Twilight! We’ve got a situation!” It was Rainbow Dash. “Fluttershy is still trying to get the information on the home’s owner—but Celestia sent guards out.”

“Guards?” Moondancer gulped. The unicorn hid behind Twilight.

“Celestia sent word to Spike, who told her that we had come to Canterlot. She sent guards out, they found me. Gave me this.” Dash held a scroll up and let it unravel against her foreleg. “I knew you’d want to know immediately.”

As Twilight finished reading the contents of the letter, another voice called from outside. This time Rarity wanted the alicorn, to which all three followed. “We found something!” she yelled to them from the backdoor. “I figured you’d want to see this as soon as we discovered it.”

“Both knew to get you immediately? Guess your friends know you pretty well,” Moondancer mentioned.

“If they think it’s important, it is important,” Twilight said as they entered the abandoned home. “What'd you find?” she asked whoever would answer.

They stood in the kitchen, or what used to be a kitchen. Starlight Glimmer had put the almost pristine book on the dusty wooden table. A chair missing two of its legs sat beside, with cobwebs all around. Starlight’s light, along with Twilight’s, brightened the room beyond necessity. Every bit of grime, dust, and decay was visible. Stepping into the home was like walking straight into a spider’s web. And here was a book Twilight knew all too well.

Starlight stood to the side with her eyebrows pinched. “If it wasn’t personal before, it is now.”

The cover was purple, with a burnt gold edging and horseshoe in the middle. Twilight set the scroll next to it. Inside the horseshoe sat the Element of Magic. “A friendship journal,” Twilight mouthed silently. She opened the first few entries. It’d been used, but maintained. Some pages chipped at the edges and corners.

“What's the letter? This book?” Moondancer asked as she stood opposite of Starlight.

There were no highlights, no notes. Not even the accidental line of ink one might absent-mindedly make while daydreaming. Some of the corners could be construed as bookmarks, but it wasn’t certain. “This is a copy of the friendship journal Starlight and I published.”

“We found it in the upstairs bedroom between some broken floorboards. Somepony thought they could hide it from Rarity’s keen eyes,” Starlight explained. “It wasn’t very dusty. I’m not sure if that means it was recently hidden or not.” Starlight pulled open the letter with her magic, but Twilight snapped it closed.

“An eclipse. Manehattan. The Crystal Empire.” Twilight closed her eyes. “Now Appleloosa. A tornado destroyed their orchards and part of the town.”

Moondancer’s shrill gasp echoed in the small kitchen. “You can’t be serious! Minuette would’ve told them to stop! They would’ve listened to her—she’s an Evoker. A tornado? Twilight!”

“They’re involving us now,” Twilight said to Rarity and Dash. “Whatever it is the Grandmaster is planning, it involves us. There’s got to be a reason they’d have this. If not the Grandmaster, then a Master. It doesn’t matter. The goal is the same. We need entrance into their secret society.”

Rainbow Dash flew forward and batted her hooves together. “What’ll you have us do, Twilight?”

“Go to Princess Celestia. Tell her to put out a bulletin to arrest all those associated with the society. Any pony seen wearing a dark grey cloak is now under suspicion. We can’t take this threat lightly.”

“You really think arresting anyone on speculation is the right call?” asked Moondancer, with Starlight sharing the sentiment.

“It’s not the right call. It’s the only call we have at the moment,” Twilight said. With a nod to Dash, the pegasus flew past Rarity out to Canterlot Castle. 

“She’s right,” Rarity added as she adjusted her mane. “If your friend Minuette told them, she told them everything. And yet they continue with their practices. If they are on the side of Equestria as you claim, someone would’ve come forward. That either means these leaders are withholding information or they’re lying to their members.”

“Or both,” Starlight noted.

Twilight closed the journal and the scroll before wrapping them together with the cloak. “All the battles we’ve faced as bearers of the Elements of Harmony have been single threats. I can’t just throw the Elements at an unknown target, and especially those who might not know what they’re causing.” She stared for a moment at each of the unicorns standing around her. She stopped at Moondancer. “I’ve got a plan, and I need ponies I can trust.”

“Whatever it is, I’m willing to do it.” Moondancer stepped forward without hesitation, contradicting the reluctance on her face. 

“Thank you. But I need more than us,” Twilight replied. The three unicorns looked bewildered by the statement. “Moondancer. There’s someone I’d like you to meet. Someone who knows a bit about being on the wrong side of friendship.”





Being surrounded by papers and books all her life, Moondancer shouldn’t have felt out of place. Piles of paperwork sat atop the crystal table. Ledgers of information about the abandoned house. Applejack and Pinkie’s recounts of the neighbors’ descriptions. It was all here, but cross-referencing names was nothing more than a chore. A monotonous, boring, overly dull chore. One that Moondancer wanted no part of.

Both Starlight and Twilight looked weary, but Moondancer did not share their heavy eyes. All the recent late nights studying for the society paid off. If only the work wasn't so boring. And there was so much, even for three smart mares, such as they were. 

However, the search for the owner wasn't their only route. Twilight’s second idea appeared sound to Moondancer. Fluttershy arrived late in the night with a bloodhound, a breed of dog meant for sniffing out individual smells. Moondancer brought the cloak to the canine, eager for the reprieve from the paperwork. She pushed it against the dog’s cold, wet nose.

The dog huffed whatever scent sat within the cloth. It whined, sniffed again, and whined some more. Moondancer studied the floppy-eared canine with intent. When it settled back away from the cloak, she wondered if something went wrong.

Fluttershy was the animal expert though. And so she knew to try again. This time it didn’t even bother to sniff the cloak. The dog looked up at her with wrinkled brows, as if to call her crazy. Moondancer noticed the confusion setting in on Fluttershy’s face. It was when the pegasus took a whiff herself that Moondancer knew it wasn’t going to work. “There’s nothing for him to smell. It’s clean; run through a wash,” Fluttershy deemed, and Moondancer took back the cloak.

“You can’t be serious!” Starlight cried out. “Twilight, can we have him smell the book?”

“No. Not unless we want a sneezing dog here,” Twilight replied.

“I’m sorry,” Fluttershy said. “How’s the search going? I hope you weren’t betting on the cloak as your only avenue.”

As Twilight went to speak, a sudden gust erupted down the hall beyond closed doors. The noise startled everypony in the room aside from the alicorn. Moondancer hid behind the unfazed canine, while Fluttershy hid behind her. “No. Sending out the guard to make arrests will have the society believe that is our only option. But I’m bringing in some extra help. That should be her now.”

“Her?” Moondancer asked Fluttershy, who shrugged and shook.

A set of trotting hooves echoed as the group went silent. They stopped at the double doors into the room. Twilight went to open them, to greet the newest addition, but they swung harshly. She groaned at the unexpected sight. “What? Expecting someone else?” the draconequus asked. He greeted Fluttershy with a hug, and stuck his tongue out at the others. “I heard you found your little society but were having problems locating its members. So here I am!” Discord flexed his arm.

“You’re going to help, Discord!?” Fluttershy asked, sounding more surprised than anyone else.

“Can you even track the pony who wore the cloak?” Starlight patronized with a roll of her eyes.

“Absolutely not. Why even ask? You should already know the answer,” Discord replied. In addition, he rolled his eyes back at her. They rolled so hard that they flung out of their sockets and onto the table. “I’m a being of chaos,” he continued. “If you want one sock to disappear from your dryer, I can do that. Otherwise, leave the magic tracking to those who want to be the centaur of attention!” He couldn’t hold his laughter in, and Fluttershy must’ve found it contagious as she too began giggling. 

As they laughed, Moondancer stepped toward the table and Twilight. Discord’s eyes watched her as she connected the phrase. “Center of attention. Centaur. Center. Cen-taur,” she mumbled. “Centaur? He’s not suggesting who I think he is, is he? Twilight?” She glanced between the eyes and the alicorn.

Twilight nodded, though Starlight shook her head. Neither agreed on what the lord of chaos meant until he answered. Taking his eyes from the table, he said, “Of course!” With a snap of his fingers, Fluttershy’s bloodhound now wore a costume that looked like Lord Tirek. “Walks on four legs, cold nose, floppy ears. The perfect replacement to Fluttershy’s doggy problem.” He pointed at the purebred. “When I say perfect, I’m speaking figuratively, of course. The mutt’s personality is far superior to the overblown ego of that centaur.”

Overblown ego! Having only met him twice now, Moondancer knew it to be ironic, and perhaps his biggest joke. “If he’s got a bigger ego than you, Discord, then we should worry about him squishing us.”

Discord raised his hand to give another snarky response, but a burst of noise overshadowed his words. A gust of wind echoed, but not alone this time. Electricity sang, and a humming followed. Fluttershy tucked in behind him, while Twilight once again referred to the her she previously mentioned. 

When the frame of a pony came into view, Twilight rushed to the doorway. “It’s so good to see you! I guess you got my message,” she welcomed. Moondancer watched as Twilight wrapped the orange pony in a hug, though Moondancer didn’t recognize the new mare’s face. “I’m glad you agreed to help. Come on in.”

Moondancer adjusted her glasses to get a good look at the mare. Introduced as Sunset Shimmer, the name rang no bells. “Some familiar faces in here,” Sunset said, giving a nod to Starlight and Fluttershy. “I heard you were having some sun-setting issues. Good thing you called the expert.”

“Excuse me, but what exactly is she supposed to help us with?” Moondancer asked.

“Nopony will recognize her,” Starlight said as her mouth widened enough to swallow a watermelon. “That’s genius, Twilight!”

“Sunset is going to infiltrate the society. I don’t believe they’ll recognize her. She hasn’t been in Equestria for more than a day since before she exiled herself beyond the mirror.” Twilight shot a wink to the orange unicorn. “You know Starlight and Fluttershy. This is Moondancer. She was an initiate in the society before they started showing their true colors.”

Moondancer trotted close. “Pleasure to meet you,” Sunset greeted, and the two shook hooves.

“Pleasure is all mine.” Though the courtesy was there, Moondancer didn't mean it. The feeling of defeat was overwhelming, with the bile of jealousy writhing in the back of her throat. Why did Twilight need Sunset Shimmer? Did she even need Moondancer, or was it purely posturing? A lie Twilight told to keep herself from feeling bad? Whatever the reason, the building blocks of resentment had now been laid against the orange unicorn.

“And that’s Discord,” Twilight dryly pointed out.

The draconequus stood with his arms crossed, and eyes leering down at Sunset. A smile would’ve lightened his mismatched face, but it wasn’t there. “Discord,” Sunset spoke the name with harshness. “You’re always around when trouble stirs, aren’t you?” Her raised brow mimicked his, and neither appeared enthused by the other’s presence. But suddenly, with a grin, Sunset raised her hoof for him to shake.

He leaned from side to side, clearly in debate. “And here you are. Trouble,” Discord replied. For a second, Moondancer thought he would snatch her up and send her flying into another dimension. Or perhaps that was her own desire. Instead, Discord did the most chaotic thing he’d done since his arrival. Wrapping both hands around Sunset’s hoof, he shook it with an abnormal respect rarely given by the lord of chaos. 

The rest of the mares were silent except Moondancer, who let out a huff. Whether they were surprised by Discord's seriousness, or simply admired Sunset, Moondancer didn't know, or care. When the two finished, Sunset turned to Twilight. “Am I starting right away? Getting my hooves dirty sounds like fun, seeing as how I don’t get to do it too often anymore.”

Twilight resumed their earlier conversation. “Fluttershy’s bloodhound won't work to track down the wearer of the cloak. I thought of cloaking myself to infiltrate once you’re implanted, but Discord came up with another idea. While you’re finding out the inner workings of the society, we’ll be tracking down the members using Lord Tirek. They’ll have no idea we’ve got so many options when unraveling their secrets.”

“So long as Celestia doesn’t show up midday for a stroll, no one in Canterlot should know me.” With a grimace, Sunset added, “Releasing Tirek, though. He’s in Tartarus? He should be able to track the magic left in that cloak. If it’s not like scent, that is. But is that really something you’ve fully considered?”

“No, she hasn’t!” Starlight argued. “Discord just brought it up. We all know about his terrible sense of judgement! Convince her to change her mind! The society is already destroying Equestria all on their own. We don’t need Tirek joining in the fun.”

“We don’t even know if Tirek is willing to help,” Moondancer said. “If he is, it could be worth a shot.”

Sunset put a hoof around Twilight. “Look at that. Guess I’m the tiebreaker. Knowing Tirek, he’d agree even if he can’t track the magic just so he can escape Tartarus. It’d be a good idea to keep the rest of the bearers away from this involvement. Wouldn’t want to prove the society right, after all.” Her smug grin rubbed Moondancer the wrong way. “I’d say go for it. If the society gets proven right, maybe this’ll be a good way to test their power.”

“Oh come on! I thought of all the ponies who could convince Twilight, you’d at least side with me!” Starlight moaned.

With a shrug, Sunset patted Twilight’s head. Moondancer couldn’t help but grit her teeth at the action. “Twi’s putting a lot of trust in me to fit into the society,” Sunset said to Starlight. “If she’s got that much faith in me, I’ve got that much faith in her. Moondancer does.” Sunset shot her a sly wink, which earned more animosity. “You should too, Starlight. And be there to back her up in case things go wrong.”

A litany of disgusted groans erupted from Starlight. “I guess I’ll go over the information on owners and addresses while you’re away. Maybe drum up some defenses for Ponyville should we have a sudden rampaging centaur on our hooves.”

Fluttershy giggled and sidled beside the annoyed unicorn. “I’ll get the girls. Your work’ll go twice as fast if the five of us help out. It’s better than waiting for something to happen.”

But Moondancer refused to be left behind. “You’ve got me. I’m with you every step of the way.” She trotted over to Twilight and threw her foreleg around the alicorn, much in the same way Sunset did. Moondancer, however, pulled hard, and away from the new, orange mare.

Staggered and choked, Twilight struggled to speak. “G-glad we’re all in agreement.”
> Problem 4: Openings
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tartarus wasn’t like Equestria. Cold, unfriendly, dangerous. A prison for Equestria’s worst. 

The guard dog, Cerberus, greeted the two mares with a bark and a growl, and the third head gave a snort. Even as a princess, Twilight wasn’t welcome. But being welcome and gaining entrance were two different things in the many eyes of Cerberus. “Coming here isn’t something I exactly like either,” Twilight said, and Moondancer trailed at her side.

The stone pathways led to many of the evil or malevolent creatures of Equestria. Some were unaware of their malicious nature. Others, like Lord Tirek, were conscious of their sinful ways. Tartarus kept them at bay from the calm ponies, allowing the good-natured folk their livelihoods. 

As they traversed the stone steps, Twilight wondered how long those livelihoods had. Whether from the society or Tirek, it didn’t matter. “Let me do the talking,” she told Moondancer. “He’ll most likely have as many snarky comments as Discord. And he’s going to be sore since I’m the one who put him here.” 

“You don’t think he’ll cooperate?” Moondancer asked. 

Twilight tried to imagine the centaur denying a chance to be free from Tartarus, even if only for a few days. “It’s not that.” Her mind wandered, images of Tirek escaping filled her thoughts. “It’s how long he’ll cooperate.”

She hushed their debate as they neared the top—wouldn’t want to give him any ideas. 

On the center of the mountainous stoop sat Tirek’s cage. None of the edges were close enough for him to nudge toward, though Twilight doubted any of his strength existed. The metal bars were thick, matching the heaviness of the cage’s ceiling and floor. No amount of prodding or pushing would budge the prison so long as the mover remained inside.

Light abundantly filled Tartarus, magically preserving a continuous daytime. Why should the prisoners deserve darkness for a false night if only to use it to escape? Even with such light, the shadows of the cage only silhouetted the centaur. His red skin was greyer, and black fur darker than usual. 

Twilight pressed forward and Moondancer followed at a slower pace. Twilight didn’t mind. Unicorns made tasty snacks, but she had no doubt he’d want an alicorn entree. 

“Princess Twilight.” The voice exaggerated the name, a chill in the breath. Two hands gripped the bars as a snout pierced the gap. Yellow, beady little eyes stared out at them. “What brings you to my humble abode? Gloating doesn’t sound becoming of a princess, and you’ve never been particularly social.” His wrinkles upturned with his horrifying smile. “You want something.”

“Lord Tirek,” she replied with sternness in her tone. “You want something, I want something. How’d you like to be out of your cage for a short while? Stretch those legs of yours. Must be sore being in there for so long.” Twilight eyed the expression of the centaur, wondering if the words would rouse his anger. But the centaur held his tongue, proving his intelligence. And that made him far more dangerous. 

Without getting too close, Twilight took the cloak off Moondancer's back and levitated it to Tirek's reach. “I’m in need of a tracker, and Discord recommended you.”

“Discord?” Tirek spat the name. “And you believed that ignoramus? You ponies are fools for allowing him such freedom,” Tirek replied. He took the cloak in his skinny fingers. 

Moondancer brushed against Twilight’s side, leaning close. “Someone sounds a little jealous,” she said in a hushed tone, but the centaur wasn’t deaf.

“Jealous!?” he snarled. The cloak would’ve ripped at the seams were he stronger. His anger erupted, then simmered, as though he were a timid volcano—bellowing only smoke. “Jealous of what? His freedom? His right to walk amongst the world while I sit here in this dreary land? He took over Equestria and turned it into his personal playground for who knows how long? But I show up and absorb a few ponies' magic and those sisters lock me away before a full phase of the moon passes. Jealous doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings.”

Twilight rolled her eyes and wondered if debating with the centaur would be worth her time. “Discord caused chaos, you caused destruction. I’d argue his is the lesser evil—and he’s on our side now.”

She hadn’t expected her words to silence the centaur, but they did. His eyes fluttered back and forth for a moment. The dumbfounded expression made him look senile. It broke all at once as he pushed his head between the bars. A smile of serrated teeth creased his wrinkled cheeks. The sudden change left Twilight with an eerie feeling. Like a single violin string run by the length of a bow before snapping. Unnatural, and ominous.

“And now you would have me help you,” he said with a soft voice. “A chance to reform, like Discord?”

“Is that what you want?” Twilight asked, the thought never crossing her mind till now. 

Though he heartily laughed, the tension didn’t break. “Oh heavens no. Draining ponies of their magic would really put a damper on their friendship with me. But I’ve never been given a chance, either!”

It wasn’t something she intended, but Twilight couldn’t refuse asking. She stepped forward, close to the cage, leaving Moondancer back a few paces. “If you help us find our pony, I’ll ask for a summit meeting of all the princesses and fellow leaders. It’ll be a chance to see you reformed. Fair’s fair.” Twilight lifted a hoof to shake. “Deal?”

But the centaur snickered at the hoof. “A chance upon a chance is a lot of ways to say it’s a gamble with me gaining no reward. It also means I’ll be stuck here while waiting for the ifs and buts with no candies or nuts.” He waved the hoof away. “I want a bigger cage. Some furniture too. Maybe a nice fleece rug.”

Twilight covered her face with her hoof, holding back a sigh. “Fine. That’s fair. Help us, and you’ll have your furnishings and a summit meeting. Now, can you track the pony who owned this cloak or not?”

“Track a pony? With this? I’m not a bloodhound!” he mocked and fiddled with the hood. He raised it above his head, and the cloth wrinkled in his grip. “I am no dog for you to order around and slap on the rump whenever I run through the mud.” He pulled the cloth to his nostrils and his nose ring jiggled against the fabric. “But I can smell the magic. Taste it—almost. It’s faint. And it’s rough. I can sift out the smell of this magic, yes.”

“So if we release you, are you going to lead us to the owner?” Moondancer asked.

“Again. Not a dog. I can’t lead you straight to the pony. Not to mention this is washed. If we were in the same location as them then perhaps, but Tartarus isn’t much of a tourist attraction.” He waved a hand dismissively. “With a bit of luck, I might find the pony if we’re in the same city. Well, same street, at least.” He flexed his brows and sniffed again. “Same room? I’m definite on the same room. If they haven’t showered in a few wee—months.”

As Twilight stared up at the centaur, she couldn’t say whether she misplaced her confidence or if it had never been there. When it came time to open the cage, her nerves caused hesitation. Once she steadied her thoughts, Twilight shot the latch up without another fearful second of doubt passing by. The tall villain slumped out from the shadows into the light. He stood no higher than Princess Luna, but his lanky form and slender, wrinkled arms unnerved Twilight. 

But she stood ready, refusing to take her eyes off the centaur.

His unsteady hands went to give the cloak, but dropped it, covering her in a shroud of darkness. The sudden blindness sent her into panic.

After jostling and freeing herself from the cloth, she found the centaur motionless. He hadn’t budged—other than the pleasured smile he got from watching her struggle. With his arms crossed, he looked skinnier and nonthreatening. “Do you have an inkling where to go? Why is it so important to find a single pony?” he asked. 

“It’s not a single pony,” Twilight answered, still catching her breath. Her fear settled, and she added, “It’s a group.”

She folded the cloak and gave it to Moondancer. “We’re going to Manehattan,” the unicorn stated. That's where they were going to send me. We figured it’d be a good place to start, in case we find another cloak or garment.”

“Is it wise bringing me to a city with a lot of ponies?” Tirek asked, a question that hadn’t occurred to Twilight.

“Stopping the society is more important than scaring Manehattan’s citizens,” she replied. “Not to mention, that’s a lot of eyes to watch for you should you choose to dishonor our deal. Now, gather together, I’ll teleport us there.”





Canterlot. It’d been a while since Sunset Shimmer returned here, alone. She noted that not much had changed since Celestia ended her apprenticeship and forced her to run off beyond the mirror. Twilight put a lot of faith in ponies not knowing her, and Sunset hoped the business with Wallflower stayed private enough. Avoiding her old stomping grounds and the castle would help ensure her identity remained hidden. Though getting noticed wouldn’t be easy if she had to keep a low profile. 

While Sunset mulled over the past and future, her curious eyes stared up at the castle in the distance. It was as beautiful as she remembered. The sun sat high in the sky, reflecting the white walls like mirrors. She had plenty of time to perform her parlor tricks. She didn't doubt she'd get noticed quickly.

Still, an anxiousness tingled her bones and tightened her throat. The idea of lying wasn’t something foreign in her repertoire. To do so for the side of good felt unnatural. It tautened the area of the body between the heart and stomach, an area unreachable by voluntary muscles. And though she tried to focus back on the task, her eyes wouldn’t draw from the castle.

Her mind settled on the past like a hen comfortable in her nest. She couldn’t help but think of Celestia staring down at her from a castle window. How could she even know Sunset was here? A childish thought, but it brought a smile. 

The daydream didn’t last. 

A potted plant burst—dropped by a clumsy pegasus. A broken wheel of a cart shattered in two places, displacing the pony driving it. An older gent struggled to hammer a nail into his shop’s sign. All these things were commonplace in day to day life—accidents were bound to happen. Not everyone was careful, or meticulous about maintenance, or wise enough to ask for help.

Sunset went to work, envious of her own magic, which wasn’t readily available in the world beyond the mirror. Though out of touch with Equestria, her magic remained as strong and powerful as the day she left.

Without a hammer, she studded the board and levitated the sign for the shopkeeper. After reforming the potted plant and the wheel of the cart at the same time, she took no thanks from the pegasus. And the owner of said cart felt immensely better as cloth wrapped his leg and tied to his neck. “No need to thank me. Anypony with strong magic would’ve done the same,” she told them. Her voice boomed as loud as it could. Everyone in Canterlot would either hear her words, or partake in the gossip spurred by it.

Of course, as she spoke the words, she knew it as a lie. Years prior, before her escape to the world beyond the mirror, she had magic. Strong magic. And yet she did not help others with her superb skill. Her focus went inward. Bettering only herself, for herself. 

The comparison wasn’t lost on Sunset, but her will to help Twilight pushed her forward. Every new spell she cast, every bit of magic she used, every pony seeing her power. It went to helping Twilight. Ponies thanked her. Sunset even drew a crowd, though never for long as she wouldn’t dare stay in one place. Her behavior remained frivolous, or so it seemed to onlookers. With a rudimentary knowledge of the strange base Twilight mentioned, she moved in a semi-circle around it.

In the upper district, construction ponies stood in awe of her impressive work. Sunset finished a new building’s walls with ease. With the shingles, she played darts, each a bullseye. The overseer rushed to Sunset, begging for her to have a position within his company. But Sunset sang a tune and pranced away as she did with all the ponies who wanted more. 

This became a common occurrence. The more ponies knew of her, the better her chances. Oh, that orange unicorn! Of course I know of her, she felt they’d say. Her magic saved my business! I’ll tell the society all about her! Half of Canterlot had become a well-oiled machine by the day’s end. The other half had heard about it.

And when the sun set on Sunset, her body aching from all the walking, she wondered if the trouble was worth it. Even her horn barely contained any spark left. Ponies thanked her and went about their business, but none sought her out. Nopony cared for a private chat. And no one invited her to their super-secret powerful unicorn club.

Shadows quickened over the city—stretching far and high like a flood pouring up walls. The only places not soaked in shade were open spaces. The fountain Sunset found herself at was one such venue. Her body rested on the marble side, while the water rippled from the constant spray. Sunset’s reflection, though broken by the lack of stillness, blended with the sky. Orange hues matched her fur, leaving her features prominent. Eyes floated with red and yellow hair above. She twisted in a direction and half her face grew darker.

Her body stiffened when another reflection came up beside her, one with a horn. A quick snap and she held her breath. A colt, so young and small. He had to stand on the marble to see his reflection, but his eyes focused on her. “You’re pretty!” he said. A high-pitched laugh escaped his chubby cheeks before he jumped down and trotted off. Sunset let go of her breath in relief, and couldn’t suppress her giggling.

Her ego deflated once it became apparent the society hadn’t noticed her. She sat on the fountain’s edge till night came. Any forethought of shelter never occurred. She assumed her prominence would’ve landed her in the society’s secret base before Luna raised the moon. It’d take a single day, nothing more, she had believed. She was wrong. 

The lit city lamps guided any pony who preferred the night owl lifestyle. And they guided Sunset. Restaurants slowly closed up shop, evicting the fattened gossipers in their gluttonous stupors. Homes darkened and shuttered. A quiet city; a peaceful city. Alone, Sunset walked.

With nowhere to go and no one to notice her, Sunset meandered the streets. Her mind wandered while she walked. Of her past; her fillyhood. Of a night leading to a forbidden archive within the local library. That nostalgia brought her to such a place. To the Canterlot Library of Magic. It hadn’t changed since her apprenticeship under Celestia. Two cement unicorns siding the steps. The dome atop the structure reflected the moon well in the night. How was it still open this late?

To her surprise, ponies exited the library. She traversed the steps and found that not all things remained stagnant. An extension in time for the open hours was something new. Entering the lobby, an old mare with cloudy eyes behind thick glasses greeted Sunset. The librarian mentioned closing time neared and Sunset made sure to acknowledge she wouldn’t be long. Of course, she didn’t plan to check out any books.

Memories carried her past shelves she once scoured for magical expertise. With those thoughts came a starting pain in her chest, a revelation of pride burdening her. A claim for perfection. Her old self wanted to be greater. All the emotions became caught like a fish on a hook and strung up out of the water by her conscious thoughts. She hadn’t meant to reminisce. 

As she turned to head back for the entrance, another unicorn slammed into her. A shower of reading material went flying, littering the floor. Neither had been paying attention to the other, and both apologized immediately. Sunset scanned each title as she helped the brown unicorn pick up her books. 

“I’m alright. My mind has been so preoccupied, it was bound to happen sooner or later.” The brown unicorn took the books in her magical grasp, but a sudden falter caused them to fall once more. “Oh! Forgive me!” As she tried to levitate the books again, fatigue staggered her.

“Here, let me.” Sunset took the books all at once, circling them into the air and setting them down atop the nearest table.  “Are you alright? Something wrong with your magic?” she asked, examining the mare. Her own magic dwindled after the day’s outing, but less so than the groggy mare.

Tired eyes fell to the ground in embarrassment. The puffy, dark fuchsia mane looked dry, almost brittle. A golden band stretched above the unicorn’s horn, close to her hair. Between the horn and band, Sunset could see matted fur, caused by an overabundance of sweat. 

“Yes—well, no. I’ve been using it so much lately, it’s growing uncomfortable to perform basic tasks. My cooking has suffered, and my father has taken notice.” The realization of her words erupted with a confused expression. “My apologies! My concerns are not for a stranger.”

Raising a hoof, Sunset said, “Alright. My name is Sunset Shimmer. Now you know me. Not a stranger, right?”

The brown unicorn laughed, shaking the hoof lightly. “Saffron Masala. Pleasure to meet you.”

“You’re a cook?” Sunset asked, and examined the books once more. “Only one of these is for recipes. I didn’t know cooking required so much magical talent.”

“My father’s more of the cook than I, though I do love it so. I’ve actually been studying so hard in magic because I—” Saffron paused. 

The random hesitation allowed Sunset to correlate the two. “Magic does have its own sort of cooking ritual. Coming up with new spells is like creating a new dish, I’d imagine. Though I’d definitely argue my spell craft is superior to the grilled cheese sandwiches I make.” 

“You create your own spells?” Saffron asked, surprised.

Before Sunset could answer, the librarian echoed out a call for closing. Saffron checked out the books, which Sunset carried, giving the brown unicorn a rest.

Outside, Saffron successfully used her magic, and she thanked Sunset once more. “You didn’t check anything out? Well, I suppose if you’re creating your own spells, you don’t need other materials.” The tired eyes held a sparkle in the moonlight. “Sunset. Are you a powerful unicorn?” she asked, and Sunset answered wordlessly with a nod. “Did you have someone who taught you?”

A sudden image crossed her mind. Not of Twilight or the secret society she pursued. It was the same image that brought her to the library, and had come up more often than any other throughout the day. For a moment, her teacher came into her mind’s eye. “Yes,” she finally answered. “I had a great teacher. She taught me much.”

“Do you live in Canterlot?”

“No,” Sunset replied. “I’m only here reminiscing.” Lies are always better told with a sprinkle of truth.

Saffron sidled in beside Sunset, a sudden nervousness resonated from her body language. Something new, a hesitation in her jaw. With no pony around, the words erupted like an ocean wave striking a sandy shore. “I’m part of this club. We’re looking for new members all the time, but it’s hard because we’re secret,” she said hastily. “If you’re not doing anything…”

Sunset’s heart skipped a beat. The realization washed over her. “Sorry,” she nonchalantly replied. “I’m not interested in learning or teaching magic.”

“Oh! It’s not that,” Saffron whispered. A short giggle broke her nervousness. “We’re a group trying to help Equestria with magic. We’re improving lives. We need strong unicorns. I don’t know how I lucked into meeting you. But if you’re powerful, adding you would be a boon. We offer shelter. Food. A purpose, if you’re looking for that. Friends, if you’re lonely, though you seem confident enough to have plenty.”

But Sunset could only snicker at the words. “Help Equestria? Not sure how a group of ponies can do that. What could I do that a princess couldn’t?”

“All over Equestria, we’ve heard of attacks. Even Lord Tirek showed up here in Canterlot. We’re trying to form a secret group where, should the princesses fall, we’ll be there to take up the challenge.”

“That’s quite brave of you. A secret society fighting villains? Isn’t discretion the better part of valor? Why put yourself in harm’s way?” Sunset stared deep into Saffron’s tired eyes. “You’re a cook, right? Why should you fight for Equestria?”

Saffron shook her head. “It’s not just Equestria. If the society can stop someone evil from ruling Equestria, that’ll protect the ponies I care about. Isn’t that worth fighting for?”

Taken aback, Sunset went speechless. She now understood why ponies found appeal in the zealotry, and had no doubt that if the society had somehow found her first, she too would side against Twilight. She wondered just how strong Moondancer was to break away from such inspiring zeal. Twilight had spoken of the other friend who remained in the society and the ardor she had for their goals. Catching herself, Sunset brushed off the thoughts. “That does sound nice. What should I bring?”

“Just yourself. If you’re interested—” Saffron took her receipt of the books she checked out, scribbling an address on the back “—Meet me here in the morning. The introduction phase is a little worrisome, but I have no doubt they’ll see what I see.”

Sunset glanced over the location for a moment. A coolness in her stare kept her giddy feelings hidden. “Interesting. I’ll keep it in mind. Don’t be mad if I don’t show, it’s hard to rouse me toward anything. I didn't even mean to come to the library tonight.”

“Such a free spirit!” Saffron laughed as she trotted away. “I believe you’ll fit right in. Have a goodnight, Sunset Shimmer!”

Somehow, she’d done it. All in a day, just like she claimed. Sunset stood with the address in her hoof. Happiness washed over her, and a sense of glee pulled her lips wide. She wouldn’t let Twilight down.





The cold stone’s symmetry didn’t match Canterlot. Cement walkways and thick brick buildings were unlike the beautiful gleaming white marble. In a way, Manehattan remained dreary and toneless. Well, aside from the strip of theaters which sang and played at all hours. But the trio passed those while heading for Moondancer’s address. The tall skyscrapers sat far behind them, to the southwest. Construction went unchecked all over the place with renovations from the terrible vines that had swept the city.

The trio walked in a part of the city that held homes and smaller businesses. The vague alley they found sat between two three-story buildings. It didn’t lead anywhere but to a tired, sun-bleached wall. But this was it.

Moondancer glanced over the address on one of the buildings. A barber shop on the bottom floor, and stairs led up on the outside to the second and third floors. On the door, she found that this was the place, and each floor had an additional number hyphenated. “It should be here,” she told Twilight and Tirek. While levitating the insignia from her sweater, she trotted down the alley and then began trying it against every brick.

“I don’t suppose that nose has picked up anything?” Twilight waited with Tirek just inside the alley. She stood behind him, preventing his escape, but trapping Moondancer as well. Not that Moondancer minded.

“This place is a cesspool of magic. It’s hard to differentiate between them all,” he argued. The centaur’s body was too big for the small alley. Turning to face Twilight wasn’t possible. He’d have to back out to leave. “You brought the cloak, correct? I’ll need another whiff inside. I might be able to tell if the owner came here.” 

As a trash can fell, Moondancer threw a look over her shoulder. Twilight had thrown the cloak over Tirek's head, blinding the centaur momentarily. The sight of a few threads catching on Tirek’s nose ring sent her into a spiral of laughter. A bit of the cloth broke, leaving several strands hooking the metal. "Very funny," he groaned.

She resumed her search after catching her breath. The tears in her eyes didn’t help, but luck was on their side. One of the bricks with a crack in the middle reacted to her insignia. 

Moondancer trembled suddenly, though not of fear. The ground itself shook—a door beneath her. Jumping off, she watched the ground lift and fall against the walls, revealing another wooden door. The same symbol, she noted, adding it to her pad. A golden snake devouring its tail. Moondancer didn’t think it looked like much of a snake, other than it being limbless. Snakes were smooth, but the design made the sides seem jagged, like little triangles. Or teeth.

After opening the doors, Moondancer trotted down the steps. A short walk into a larger opening. Tirek followed in, coming to stand at her side, with Twilight at her other. “They didn’t remove any furniture in this one,” the alicorn stated. “Hello? Anyone home?” she called out to the darkness.

The egg-shaped room didn’t mimic Canterlot’s. The brown, aged walls were there, but only another set of double doors sat opposite the entrance. The room wasn’t large. Their either meant it for reading or socializing. 

When Twilight took a step, Moondancer did too, but a long arm stopped them both. The swift movement tilted Moondancer’s glasses, forcing her to fix them. “What are you doing?” Twilight asked with annoyed brows raised. 

“Saving your lives,” Tirek answered in a short rasp.

With her glasses straight, Moondancer looked up at the centaur. His face stood still, though wrinkled. “Is something wrong?” she asked him as her eyes took in the room.

“Can’t you smell it? Feel it?” He grimaced. “You ponies are so useless. There’s a trap. The room is so full of magic, it’s like a buffet. Unfortunately, we’d be on the menu.” He tossed the cloak into the center of the room, and it flopped on the floor.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then the room shifted. From the ceiling came down a limbless creature the size of a pony and three times the length, mimicking the golden logo outside. This one wasn’t gold. Instead, made of the limestone walls, it bored into the ground, then came up. Again and again it went in a circle, entangling itself. It would’ve crushed anyone caught inside its ball of stone. The cloak jumped and moved with each turn. Once caught, the snake ripped it against the ceiling before the magical beast ceased to move.

Moondancer’s face shriveled in horror, and Twilight’s wasn’t any different. Without Tirek, they both would’ve been the cloak—a mangled shred. “You ponies are always so clumsy,” he told them as he relaxed his arm. 

Turning to Twilight, Moondancer saw the alicorn figuratively and literally swallow her pride. She had expected her to be angry about the damaged cloak, yet Twilight was the opposite.  “Th-thank you, Tirek,” she said with sincerity. “That would’ve been the end for us if you hadn’t been here.”

“That’s right!” Moondancer gawked, realizing Tirek’s mistake. “Why didn’t you let us walk? Wouldn’t that have allowed you to escape and steal pony magic?” A sudden elbow from Twilight shut Moondancer’s mouth from another question.

Tirek’s anger seethed in his words. “Do you take me for a murderer!?” he snapped at her, silencing both mares. But he expected an answer. “Do you!?” he shouted again. Their eyes didn’t shy away from the answer, though their mouths did. “I may enjoy tearing down your pony lands and hearing you scream, but I trapped those three prissy princesses in Tartarus.” He folded his arms. “I can neither steal your magic nor hold it over your head if you’re not alive. Where’s the fun in that?” 

Moondancer inclined her head in apology of her misinterpretation of the centaur. She went to apologize, but Twilight’s laughter stopped her short. “Now I can see why you and Discord got along so well. Up to your betrayal, anyway. You two both like to taunt your victims.” Twilight then pointed to the trap. “That’s why this Society of Secret Sorcery is even more dangerous than you, Tirek.”

“More dangerous than Tirek?” Moondancer asked. Her glasses fell down the bridge of her muzzle. As she pushed them back up, her eyes fell on the centaur. His old face, wrinkled body, and limp stature made him seem weak. “I suppose I can see that. Maybe he’s not all bad.”

He snorted. “Think whatever you want. In the end it makes no difference so long as I get my rug.” He stepped into the egg-shaped room, and the two mares followed behind, giggling to each other.

The limestone creature broke the ground and ceiling in such a way that rubble surrounded the edges. While Twilight examined the creation with her light, Moondancer levitated the torn cloak from the monster’s broken face. In shreds, she held it to Tirek who waved it away. She dared not imply Twilight be at fault for giving him the cloak in the first place, and chose to throw it back on the ground. 

“This is a ward,” Twilight said aloud. “A trap is one thing. The way this brick moved, the spell must be complex!” Moondancer followed around to Twilight as the alicorn pulled on some of the monster. 

“A trap would’ve meant they dug the ceiling, designed this creature, and set down a spell, right?” Moondancer asked. “But can a ward do this? I’m not as familiar with warding magic.”

She watched as Twilight’s mind went to work. Silence between the two was common in the old days, during their schooling. “Anything is possible. The eclipse proved that,” Twilight answered in time. “I’d be very interested in meeting the pony who crafted this. On a scientific level, the structure and design are amazing. But now we need to be all the more careful. Okay, Moondancer?”

She nodded. “I’m with you.”

“Are you two done fawning over magic? You know that sort of thing is unhealthy,” Tirek called from the double doors. 

Moondancer didn’t much care for the joke, but Twilight rolled her eyes and grinned. Following the centaur into the second room revealed it to be a long hallway. Seven doors in total, four on the left side, one at the end, and two on the right. They checked each. All the furniture remained, no more traps, and not a single piece of clothing to replace the cloak. A kitchen, two sleeping rooms, another study without any books. A grand gathering hall, like the one Moondancer attended, and two practice rooms.

At Twilight’s side, Moondancer helped examine and reexamine each room twice, then thrice. Tirek remained in the hallway, his job done. At one point in their search, Moondancer stopped and gave him an annoyed look. “You could at least act like you’re helping us,” she said.

“I already helped. The owner of the cloak’s smell is here.”

“It is?” Moondancer eyed side to side. “Are they here?”

“Don’t you think you would’ve found them by now if they were?” he mocked. His leaning against the wall allowed him to sniff the bricks. “The scent is outrageous here. I don’t know if they’re in the city or not, but we can check when you’re done.”

“We are done." Twilight returned to the two. "There’s not a single piece of evidence here! They’ve had time to make sure of that. I suppose the ward proved it too. They knew we were coming.” 

Hanging her head, Moondancer apologized. “I should’ve brought you here right after Canterlot. They might not have thought of the letter they sent me.” She slapped her forehead, wishing she could remember Minuette’s address to the Crystal Empire as well. 

Back through the egg-shaped room and outside, Twilight voiced her disagreement. “We needed time. We needed a plan. It’s better this way.” 

When they stepped into the light of Manehattan, Tirek’s arm once again stalled them. Moondancer snapped from her reflective stupor. “Another trap?” she asked, hoping to be wrong. But the centaur lifted his nose. “He’s got the scent!” she realized.

“Really? Find it, Tirek!” Twilight cheered. “Lead us to them!”

The centaur ignored the dog-like beckoning. Moondancer watched his nose ring jiggle as his mind focused. Every few seconds he would take a big sniff and move a couple inches. Out of the alley, his expression looked lost, and she feared the worst.

His eyes abruptly went wide. He held up a finger to point, but switched with the wind. Ponies on the street howled at the sight of him, but his focus remained.

Moondancer shook with anticipation, biting down on her bottom lip. She wanted to scream, “Come on! Come on!” But she kept it inward, cheering him on internally. The sensation exploded outward once Twilight’s enthusiasm erupted. “You can do it!” they said in unison.

The centaur had something. Ponies moved to the other side of the street. Some rushed into buildings, locking the door behind them. Either way, the streets became empty whenever Tirek turned onto them. 

But he lost the smell outside a printing shop. He circled, and Moondancer asked if it was gone. He shook his head and pointed to the door. “In here?” She pulled on the door, and Twilight rushed in first.

The building wasn’t even a two-story. At the small counter, the receptionist greeted the two mares. A pencil between her ear and mane, she pulled it out with her hoof. “Do you two have an appointment? Need some designs printed?” she asked, and placed the pencil in her mouth to write their names.

There were no walls in the building. The rattling of printing presses echoed out with the clopping of workers’ hooves. Moondancer glanced over each pony, noticing none of them were unicorns. Before she could tell Twilight that Tirek might be wrong, the centaur entered. “This is where the trail ends. It’s a frequent smell here, but the owner of the cloak hasn’t been by in some time.”

“T-T-Tirek!” the receptionist screeched.

All the printing presses stopped. Ponies scrambled out the back entrance. The receptionist jumped out the window. Screaming echoed in all directions until the place went silent. “Well, that could’ve gone smoother,” Twilight said. “Tirek! Are you sure this is the place?”

Tirek went to answer, but Moondancer intervened. “There weren’t even any unicorns here.”

“No unicorns? Are you certain?” Twilight repeated and looked back at the centaur. “Tirek!” But he shrugged in response. “Let’s spread out then, maybe we can find something here that you can smell.” 

Moondancer stepped back outside. “I’ll jot down the address. I believe Tirek. If he says the scent ends here, and it’s strong enough to fade, that has to mean something.” After pulling the notepad from her sweater, she wrote down the building’s number. There were still ponies watching in horror on the opposite side of the street. “Starlight’s going to be mad if you make her search a whole filing cabinet of clienteles and employee listings. I hope adding the owner of this place isn’t too much to ask.”

“Once we’re done searching, let’s head back to Ponyville. She might have something for us,” Twilight called from inside. “You caused this, Tirek. Get in here and help!”

“I should’ve asked for a penthouse,” he groaned.
> Problem 5: Cloak and Dagger
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunset reached the address hours before the mid-morning light broke the clouds. Not unlike Moondancer, Sunset had to wait for her recruiter. But Sunset didn’t know Saffron well enough to say if trust linked them. In actuality, she felt bad for using Saffron, who stood as a pawn in the secret scheme. And in the back of her mind, Sunset told herself it was fine. It was for Twilight, after all.

In the alleyway between a rug shop and a café, Sunset did her best to remain calm. The ponies inside would see and read her expressions like scripture. She could only guess how many Masters would be there, or if the Grandmaster might make an appearance. Even with all the answers Moondancer gave Twilight, she didn't have enough information. Only then, upon her speculation, did Sunset realize how outmatched she stood.

One unicorn versus ponies who had practiced, grew, and taught each other. Who knew how powerful the Grandmaster could be? Sunset had learned Starlight Glimmer took cutie marks off ponies. What if this Grandmaster could do the same? Or worse?

The bleakness consumed her thoughts. But she snapped back to reality; it was for Twilight. She remembered how powerful Twilight’s magic was. Not alone, but with her friends as well. The bleakness faded in time for a shadow to appear at the alley’s entrance. “You showed!” Saffron greeted.

Sunset examined the cloaked figure. Other than the voice, she wasn’t sure it was Saffron at all. What little face showed sat hidden in a dreary grey. No mane, no tail, not even a hoof to see. “Sure. What are friends for?” replied Sunset, half-focused on her thoughts.

The hood fell. Saffron said, “I do apologize for the secrecy. The Masters will explain the reasoning shortly. Come inside before the early birds crawl the streets.” She lifted out her insignia, a silver pin, and tapped it to the wall of the rug shop. They didn't enter the store, but an opening that unleashed at their hooves.

A short flight of stairs circled, and they stood beneath the alleyway. Sconces lit with blue fire for the small room. Deep and thin, only a few doors existed at the sides. Saffron led the way to the end of the hall. Instead of opening the door, she knocked. Ponies on the other side answered, allowing them entry. Three cloaked figures matching Saffron, yet these bore the golden pins of three horns.

They stood in the center of the room. It wasn’t large. Sunset guessed if they’d done the eclipse here, the members would’ve squished together, shoulder to shoulder. The society made do, making this the site of Sunset’s induction. Should she pass, of course.

Sunset didn’t try to hold back her arrogance. She wanted nothing more than to portray a confident, Canterlot mare. Whether or not she could back it up didn’t matter. Falling from grace granted humility that others would find awe-inspiring. Victory would fill them with respect of her power. “I expected a red carpet for saving Equestria. There’s a rug store up above us. They should have one.”

The Masters glanced to each other, questioning without words. Saffron spoke with her hood down for them to see. Nopony else stood within the confines of the small room. For a split second, it crossed Sunset’s mind that these three could have their identities revealed. She could simply teleport the cloaks off them and see their faces. Or she could teleport them from the sanctuary to Twilight’s castle. But the fear that they could incinerate her with ease brought reason back to her imagination.

“This is Sunset Shimmer, Masters. I thank you for accepting her declaration, and hope she proves a valuable proponent.” Saffron bowed her head as she spoke.

“What brings you into our midst, Sunset Shimmer?” the middle Master asked. The feminine voice matched the decibels of Sunset’s. A Canterlot or Manehattan accent made the most sense.

“I met Saffron here and she invited me. Call me a loner with nothing better to do, because that’s the truth. Helping Equestria has a nice ring to it. And it’s not like I can get accepted into the School for Gifted Unicorns at my age,” answered Sunset. She let out a little chuckle. “Not that I need training, mind you.”

The Masters spoke among themselves for a moment, her bravado hitting or missing. When they ceased their quiet chatter, one of them brought a book. A spell book. “Here is our test for entry into the society. Completing a large portion of spells will also determine your status within our group. Try to go as far into the book as you can.”

Sunset levitated the book in front of her, and examined the words with consideration. From the beginning, she judged the first half to be incredibly belittling. The last half held almost impossible feats. Such as a mare into a stallion; too much magic for a requirement like these achievements.

It wasn’t just about performing the spells. This was an endurance trial as well. A beginner would dazzle the crowd with complex spells right off the bat, and then have nothing for the finale. Sunset was no beginner. Starting small allowed her to ease into expensive spells. In a race of the tortoise and the hare, Sunset dared to be a diamond-shelled turtle. Beautiful, strong, and a unique sight.

The first three spells were basic for most unicorns. Levitation, teleportation, and transmutation. In an instant, she transmuted the very spell book into a dumbbell, then an anvil, and finally a fridge. Teleporting inside, she levitated herself and the fridge above Saffron. She then multiplied the fridge, juggling a trio with ease. She dropped them all around the Masters. Teleporting herself, she felt much like Discord, popping out randomly from inside the fridges. 

Saffron clapped at the showing, surprised at their impressiveness. But the Masters remained nonplussed, immobile to the strange act. 

When the fridges combined back into the book, Sunset wrapped it in a bubble. The shielding she cast around it protected from the additional lasers she fired. The bolts of magic ricocheted off the guard with ease, almost striking the onlookers. With Saffron distracted, Sunset used the opportunity to transfigure the fellow unicorn. Her brown fur became white, her dark fuchsia mane became pink. Then, as Saffron instinctively rose bipedal in shock, Sunset froze her in place.

No longer did the Masters remain idle. They clopped their hooves against the ground, chorusing cheers and praise. Sunset, however, wasn’t finished. She filtered over the harder sections of the spell book. 

One became two. As one Sunset stood below the frozen Saffron, another Sunset pressed into her back. The two unfroze the unicorn, while also reverting her original brown coat. Saffron wasn’t upset at the involvement. She howled with delight as the two Sunsets hugged her sides. 

The strain became painstaking to hold two entities in her magical grip. Before she limited her being, Sunset transformed the world around them. Reality shifted. Grass grew beneath their hooves. A night sky tore open, whereas it was day moments ago. Trees grew taller than any building in Manehattan, vines stretched across their limbs in interwoven patterns. 

And then it collapsed. The two Sunsets fell into each other as the world became lit with blue flame and limestone walls. Believing Sunset at her limit, the Masters called her end. “We are stunned,” a high-pitched feminine voice said, different from the other. “You have passed with flying colors. Take your breath.”

“I’m not finished,” Sunset interrupted, refusing to falter. She then threw the spell book at them and turned to Saffron. “I’d like to show you a spell of my own. If you’d allow me to borrow you for a moment, Saffron.”

“You’ve already been doing so, once more is fine. I’m excited to see your own work,” Saffron enthused, nodding wildly in anticipation.

Before the Masters could defuse the situation, Sunset’s horn lit in a spark. “I’m not so sure you’ll be saying that in a moment.” In an eruption of light, Sunset connected her horn’s magic to Saffron’s. A moment passed before it appeared to do anything more than produce a glow. 

Falling on her front knees, Saffron gasped with shock. “W-what is happening?” she asked, fear striking her pupils, turning them tiny.

“What is happening?” Sunset repeated the question. “A regret. One made by many.” The glow stopped, and Sunset allowed herself to inhale. “It’s siphoning. Or you could say it’s mimicking Lord Tirek. It doesn’t matter. I exhausted my magic, and now I’ve borrowed yours.” Her horn lit with a ball of energy, displaying her returned strength, and ending the trial.

“Truly, you are equal to no unicorn known in Equestria,” a stallion said, the third Master. “Nor should they know you. Your success must be kept secret, for should the princesses fall, we will be there to pick up the fight.” 

The middle Master addressed Saffron. “For bringing such a gift, Saffron, we give you the rank of Evoker,” she said. The stallion brought a golden pin with two horns and pinned it to her cloak. “Please take your rank and go,” the mare commanded. “We would like to speak to the new initiate alone.”

Saffron thanked and bowed and thanked again before taking her leave. She closed the doors behind her, and Sunset stood alone with the trio of Masters. The middle came forth with a cloak and silver insignia. “Please put this on,” requested the mare.

Doing so, Sunset felt a swarm of pride creep up her neck. Tests and questions were common at her school beyond the mirror—yet this wasn’t like any of those. Instead, it brought nostalgia of her time under Celestia. The self-importance fell in line with the days long past. With her hood lowered, she pinned the insignia, and couldn’t contain a smile. 

“Sunset Shimmer,” the high-pitched mare called. “You received a proud emblem of our group. The Society of Secret Sorcery welcomes you with open hooves. We believe you will do great things.”

“And we would even be granting you the status of Evoker,” the stallion added. “Were it not for recent events. A terrible tragedy.” 

“Let us not worry our newest addition with the past,” the middle mare spoke. “Though we only grant you the status of the initiated, we will include you in the right of ascension. The Grandmaster heard your name and found nothing worrisome. You proved yourself here. These two things grant you the right to become host under our guidance.”

Sunset’s pride evaporated. The need to reveal the mystery of the three Masters overcame all other senses. She choked on a knot in her throat, her breathing stuttered. The middle mare came forward. Sunset wanted nothing more than to blow the hood off the mare and see the face in the light. “You did a background check on me?” she asked, her voice shallow. They found nothing worrisome, which meant Celestia must’ve scrubbed any records after Sunset’s escape through the mirror. That didn’t surprise her, though. If she were Celestia’s sister, Sunset would’ve become a mythical prophecy in some old book. “Why the secrecy?” she asked.

“Our original reasoning was to keep our identities secret from one another. If the time came and we were face to face with a villain like Tirek, he could not force our members to rat each other out. They couldn’t, because they wouldn’t know. Time progressed, and we are all glad we forced our discretion on all members. One initiate scampered off, telling a princess of our society. She jeopardized our whole reasoning for hiding. Only we Masters know our members,” the middle mare explained.

“And I don’t get to know any of yours—in case I decide to rat you out?” Sunset asked. To play up her charade, she then followed it with a muttered comment. “Why anyone would do that is beyond me.”

The trio heard it, as she wanted them to. And in response, the middle mare answered, “The princesses see our work as troublesome, and perhaps it is. But we do not take it as a slight. We are nearing the end of our tests, and you come at a wonderful time. Soon, we will have a red-letter day. We’d like for you to become our Master-in-Training. I believe you’ll fit right in. Your skills prove it so.”

“Master-in-Training? To become one of you three?”

“That’s right. We need someone with your talent to help guide and teach the other initiates. Through hard work, together we can complete our goal,” the middle mare said. Sunset couldn’t hide the inquisitive look on her face. Noticing, the mare added, “One more test of our abilities and we can begin a ritual. Sunset, how would you like to become an alicorn?”





Moondancer held her tongue as she stood on the sidewalk. The modest two-story home of pale pink sat happily in front of them. Clean cut grass, freshly watered potted plants. A little rooster wind vane on a corner of the blue roof. They stood in the lower section of Canterlot’s housing district, not far from the abandoned home. The owner of the dilapidated dwelling lived inside. Starlight discovered it before their return from Manehattan. The lilac unicorn came with them, though only to get out of the work they’d dropped on her. She’d return to it once they finished in Canterlot—though they all hoped this meeting would conclude the society’s business.

“Why do I have to stand out here and guard the flower ghost?” Starlight asked Twilight. She stood next to Tirek, a brown and yellow sheet covering his figure. After the terror he caused in Manehattan, Twilight saw fit to keep his appearance hidden.

“If you’d like, you can wear this and I’ll have the snooty attitude,” he replied. The sheet had two eye holes cut for him to see.

And Moondancer held her tongue. Laughter crept up her throat, but she retained her silence. 

“Would you two quit your complaining? Just wait outside,” Twilight commanded, then nodded to Moondancer. The two trotted up to the door, then knocked gingerly. Midday light shined down on them well, allowing the answering mare no shadows to hide behind. Not that she had any intention to hide.

“Good day!” the small tan mare greeted. 

“Are you Auburn Nest?” Moondancer asked, giving the name Starlight cross-referenced. This mare was indeed a unicorn.

When the mare declared herself Auburn Nest, Twilight stated herself and Moondancer. “You own an abandoned home over near the upper district. It’s linked with a crime, and we’re looking for information.”

Politely, Auburn Nest invited the two in. “I’m not sure about any home I own aside from this one,” she said, once inside.

As they followed into the home, Moondancer eyed the empty picture frames and barren shelves. Art abundantly hung around, though nothing expensive. The entry had a stairway and led right into the living room. “Is there anyone else home, ma’am?” Moondancer asked.

“Oh, no. It’s just me nowadays,” the mare answered, inviting them into the living room.

“Would you mind if my friend looked around your home while we discuss your involvement?” Twilight asked in an authoritative tone.

Moondancer halted, stunned by the idea. She shot a look to Twilight. How could Twilight want her to search? There was no way. Not alone. “Twilight, are you sure that’s wise? I’m not exactly the right pick. Maybe Starlight can take my place,” she whispered.

But Twilight shook her head, refusing to allow Moondancer her moment of weakness. “Of course, Princess!” Auburn Nest replied with a delightful smile. “How can I say no to a princess? I bet my neighbors will be jealous!”

With a side eye from Twilight, Moondancer trailed away from the living room. She stood in the hallway for a moment, listening to the two get settled. Though Twilight wasn’t harsh in her tone, the words were severe. Moondancer could barely believe her old introverted friend now commanded such a voice. And here Moondancer remained, still beating herself up over her part in the society. She tried to pull herself together, but all Moondancer could do was stand in a hallway, feeling ashamed. With a deep breath, she put one hoof forward.

Moving steadily, she found a view into the kitchen and of the rustic dinnerware. The dining room held a backdoor, though all the blinds remained closed to the yard. Every step felt less anxious. Peering out, Moondancer noted the rusted swing set. 

Back down the hall, she went upstairs. There were three doors. One room was Auburn Nest’s, which she found first. A spotless room, and quite barren. No pictures. No books. Not even a single receipt or magazine. Examining all the obvious hiding spots, Moondancer found nothing. Not a thing out of place.

The bathroom appeared as flawless, but the third room remained a mystery. Dust soaked every portion of furniture, though there wasn’t much. It became clear that no one came in here often. She wondered why. The dresser and drawers were empty. Not even a secret compartment. The fitted sheets felt stiff, and nothing sat under the bed. She bemoaned the lack of a hidden space beneath the floorboards, though the carpeting felt nice.

A mirror across from the dresser drew her attention. It sat tall for a pony. Moondancer stretched to see her knees. She noticed spots on the edges where time wore away—with one part faded less than the others. A note or picture maybe? There were a few of these spots ranging all over the frame. Had someone used to live with Auburn Nest?

Moondancer returned to the living room just as the tan unicorn served tea. “I do hope you found everything to your liking!” Auburn greeted. Raising a teacup in her hooves, Auburn gestured to Moondancer. “It’s so rare to be in company of a princess. You’re a mighty lucky mare!”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Moondancer replied, levitating the cup. She watched as Auburn Nest chugged down the tea, not even stopping to breathe. Twilight took a gulp of her own before continuing her interrogation. Moondancer listened, still holding the tea, though further from her glasses to avoid them fogging up. When a short pause occurred, she asked, “Ma’am, who else lived here? There’s two rooms, but one doesn’t appear used.”

“My daughter,” Auburn said, shaking her head. A bright smile hung on her face as her eyes glazed over. A memory trapped the mare for a moment before she continued. “She’s such a sweet thing. She got me this tea. Black tea. Said it’ll help with my headaches. She’s such a sweet thing.”

“Miss Nest, please,” Twilight begged. “Your name is on the paperwork. If you’re part of the society, you should just come forward. Our goal is harmony, not friction. Equestria hangs in the balance.”

But Auburn Nest smiled and nodded. “I’ll bet a princess’s work is never finished. It’s so nice of you to visit the common folk from time to time. Is this some sort of program? Will Princess Celestia and Princess Luna be joining us? Oh, I had such an admiration for Princess Celestia when I was a filly.”

Moondancer studied the tan mare, assuming she could be no older than her own mother. The dull grey eyes looked cloudier than other ponies’, though blindness wasn’t a question. Auburn avoided furniture and did not need to search for her cup. “I do apologize for my home. I try to keep it as clean as possible,” Auburn added. “Do be a dear and let me know before Princess Celestia arrives. I’ll scrub night and day before then.”

“Miss Nest.” Twilight hung her head and sighed. “Celestia’s not—” The alicorn then went silent, taking a drink. “About the house...”

“I rarely leave my home nowadays. My daughter is so nice. She brought me this tea, you know. She helps me clean, though I can never seem to get it as clean as she does. Makes me proud.”

The living room was immaculate. Nothing littered the floor, no clothes hung off racks. Moondancer found the mention of an untidy house odd, as even the kitchen stood kept and clean. “You’re a unicorn,” Twilight countered, keeping the conversation on the subject. “Have you at all heard of the Society of Secret Sorcery? They’re a large group.”

“Oh, you are sweet,” Auburn replied. “But I don’t need any help. Everyone has their own trials and tribulations. If I believe I can do it, then I’ll be sure everything is spotless.”

Moondancer watched as Twilight’s disgruntled face fell dejected. They both knew the next few questions would bewilder them more than solve anything. Following the mare’s train of thought, Moondancer interjected with a question of her own. “Where is your daughter now? Do you have many children?”

“Only one. A filly. She’s very sweet. This tea, it’s black tea. She introduced me to it. I have such strong, painful headaches. It’s like a dozen drums against my forehead.” With both hooves, she set the cup down to refill it from the kettle. With it full, she didn’t wait for it to cool, downing the cup like it was nothing.

“Where is your daughter?” Moondancer repeated.

“Where is who?” Auburn asked as she leaned back in her chair.

“Your daughter?” Twilight spoke harshly.

“Oh. She is very sweet,” Auburn replied, and then pointed to the tea in Twilight’s hooves. “She introduced me to this tea. Black tea, she called it. I’ve had such a terrible problem with headaches, and she is so kind to find this for me. It helps with headaches.”

Moondancer snapped her eyes to Twilight whose face twisted in confusion. She didn’t even bother speaking to the alicorn before ripping the teacup away with her magic. A few hot drops struck the loveseat they sat on. Placing her own cup next to Twilight’s, she made a gesture to the kitchen. Twilight gave an understanding nod.

“Ma’am, can you tell us about your daughter? Anything at all?” Twilight asked as Moondancer headed into the kitchen. “A name? A description? Where’d she go to school?” Moondancer examined the cabinets and listened. A ceramic, blue-painted jar sat near the sink, with several teabags inside. Sniffing the contents, Moondancer determined it to be the same as Auburn served.

“Who?” Auburn asked, as if the conversation didn’t exist.

Once she returned to the living room, Moondancer set the container in front of Auburn Nest. “Who gave you this tea, ma’am?” she asked the mare, hoping to spark something.

“That’s black tea.” She stared. “My daughter is so kind to have found it. It helps with headaches. I’ve got terrible headaches, you know. Sometimes I can’t even get out of bed.”

“Did she say where she found it? I’d like some for my mom,” Moondancer lied.

“Where she… found it?” Auburn blinked, lost in her mind. “I’m not sure. But she’s such a dear. I’m lucky to have her as a daughter. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“Can you tell us more about her?” Twilight asked before Moondancer could stop her.

Auburn replied with the answer they didn’t want. “Who?”

Moondancer looked to Twilight who visibly shook. “The room upstairs hasn’t seen use in a very long time. There’s so much dust, it’s like the dumbbell set Twinkleshine gave me for Hearth’s Warming during our school days. Whoever her daughter is hasn’t shown up in ages, which means she’s been drinking this tea for ages too.”

With a stern, melancholy expression, Twilight agreed with a nod. “You reached the conclusion before I did, but I’m there now. I have no doubt this mare’s daughter is a Master, or even more likely, the Grandmaster. We need to get Auburn Nest to the hospital. Whoever they are, they poisoned their own mother.”
> Problem 6: Old Enemies
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Days passed in the world below Canterlot. Life grew comfortable within the society’s secret base. But no matter how comfortable she got, Sunset kept her cloak on at every hour of the day. When night came, she took the furthest bed in the hopes of avoiding anypony else. Sometimes, when the hideout became crowded, she’d pull the blanket over her head and staple it down with a spell.

Most of the time the hideout remained sparse. A few regulars would make their daily appearance, such as Saffron. The Masters rarely showed; the Grandmaster never did. It became easy to tell when a Master did appear. Their insignia distinguished them from the others, but several ponies would also follow them through the base. Questions, orders, or concerns were the usual talk.

For those just starting out, like Sunset, it grew difficult to tell who was who. The silver pins were the most common. By the end of her first real day within the society, she’d had enough of the mystery. After developing a system overnight, she convinced Saffron to mimic her magic. 

It wasn’t any different than a small firework. The user sent a set of sparks above their head in the design they desired. For Sunset, she chose the sun. Not the same design as her cutie mark, it’d be too obvious. Instead, it resembled Celestia’s. Golden, with orange tendrils.

Since she lived in Canterlot, Saffron left at night, returning to her home. The next day, Sunset found it difficult to sieve out the other ponies from her new friend. With her image system, Sunset sent her logo over her head whenever an Evoker arrived. Saffron would display cooking utensils, and the two would greet each other. It cut out the unnecessary awkward greetings in meeting unintended ponies, and avoiding the use of names.

When the other regulars noticed the salutations, they made their own as well. Some even came to talk to Sunset about it. A spool of twine was one image she befriended, another a balloon. No one spoke their name or showed their face, but they knew Sunset, even if they did not know her face. 

While she and Saffron became closer friends, Sunset also taught those willing to learn. Saffron would bring ingredients, prepare dinner, and then settle down with seven others. They all crowded around Sunset, and soon she became the most popular mare in the hideout. She had no doubt that it was due to her skill.

But Sunset didn’t understand. So many of the unicorns here in the society didn’t have proper training. How could they get inducted into a society meant to protect Equestria? Why would they put their lives on the line when push came to shove, when they didn’t even know more than levitation? And so she taught. With nothing better to do than lie in wait for the Grandmaster to show, she made herself useful. 

“Lower the shield, then fire. If you keep it up while you fire, you expend too much magic. Then, when you’re struck, the shield will break and you’ll be vulnerable.” Sunset stood in the small room the Masters used to induct her. With her magic, she raised a shield toward the straw dummy. It sat against the limestone wall, strung up beneath one of the blue flame sconces. “Lowering the shield makes you vulnerable too, so don’t do it unless you can be sure you’re safe.”

Soon, her little group grew with the training. “Lower, fire, raise,” she instructed, drilling it into their heads. And as the group grew, more ponies joined in. Even some of those who were visiting from Manehattan, the Crystal Empire, or elsewhere. They stayed to train, and left to teach their own groups.

“Teach us something you’ve created!” Saffron pleaded over one dinner. “You were magnificent in your initiation. Your repertoire must be expansive, right?”

“Where did you learn all this?” the balloon pony asked. A stallion, one of Canterlot’s noble stock, judging by the accent. “I’ve learned more from you than all the books in the Library of Magic!”

“Experience is a better teacher than books. You can read about how other experiments have gone, but what’s the point if you don’t experiment yourself?” Sunset answered. She had experienced a lot, and learned more from it than she could say.

Saffron replied, “Like cooking! Experimenting in the kitchen is a necessity.”

“Exactly.” Sunset levitated her fork to her mouth—Saffron’s delectable cooking was top-notch. “I suppose tomorrow I can start teaching you about wards. You all are keeping up on your levitation strength training, right?” Saffron and the other members around the table nodded, bringing a smile to Sunset’s face. “We’ll see who’s lying tomorrow then,” she said with a bit of laughter.

As dinner continued, an interruption came in the form of a group of ponies entering the mess hall. Each insignia pinned to these members held a golden status. One in the center, however, had three horns. “A Master,” Saffron whispered as the group came to their table.

Moving their head from side to side, the Master examined each of the members. Though their features remained hidden by the cloak, it became clear they searched for somepony in particular. On a hunch, Sunset sent out her greeting. A sun appeared over her head. The Master nodded. “There you are.” It was the mare who spoke the most during Sunset’s initiation. The inflection in her voice sounded more from Manehattan than Canterlot. Sunset could tell the difference now that she’d spent time with the slow, enunciating Canterlot stock.

“Tomorrow morning we will be having the Trial of the Evoker. Another pony desires the test, and you will be going against them. Whoever wins becomes an Evoker,” the Master explained. “It won’t be easy. Prepare tonight. It’ll be your quickest way to advance.”

“What about the rest of us? When do we get to advance?” the stallion with the balloon image asked.

Before the Master could answer, Sunset interjected, “Oh, don’t be jealous.” She patted his hoof. “When you can teleport more than three inches, I’m sure they’ll let you advance.” The ponies around the table bellowed with laughter. Had the balloon pony not grown accustomed to Sunset’s snarky jibs, the Master might have worried of a fight breaking out. But Sunset knew he would laugh, as he did indeed, removing tension. “I’ll be ready,” Sunset told the Master. “I can’t wait to show off to the ponies here.”

“Do not be so confident,” the Master replied. “This test is one that both participants can fail.” With that, the Master and her entourage left the mess hall. 

After Sunset went to bed, she stayed awake and wondered what sort of test they planned. She didn’t fear failing. Her biggest concern was whether the Grandmaster would finally make an appearance. What should she do? Try to capture her and take her to Twilight, or maybe butter her up and find out just who she was? The path remained unclear.

When morning finally came, she found that not only did the Grandmaster not show, but a Master had missed too. Members gathered inside the hall that Sunset performed her magic for the trio of leaders. Several shot off their images to show their support, while her opponent had no one. 

Two glass boxes big enough to fit a pony and twice as tall sat opposing each other. “We’ll be taking this outside,” a Master said, the same one from yesterday. “Evokers, at the ready.”

The world exploded with greens and blues as the limestone walls evaporated. They hadn’t shifted reality like Sunset had. Instead, they teleported the occupants. Everyone stood in between two grassy knolls surrounded by forest. Canterlot sat far above on its mountain, looming down in judgement. “No one should notice us out here,” the other female Master stated. “Would our initiates step forward?”

Sunset met her opponent in front of the Masters. 

“Let us go over the rules, shall we? In this competition, you’ll be put in a glass box each. Atop the box is plywood, and atop that is hay. We’ll hit the hay with a fire spell. As the hay burns down to the plywood, you must figure out how to get out of the box,” the Manehattan Master explained. “Several spells are not allowed during this. Teleportation, levitation, and transformation. You cannot damage or change the box, plywood, or hay. There is a time limit, which is the hay. When the plywood breaks, the hay will fall and so will the fire. You must escape before then.”

“This seems awfully dangerous for an advancement test,” Sunset said. “And can’t we just break the time limit by making it rain?”

The other Master clapped her hooves together, and suddenly a bubble extended around the society’s gathering. “Does that answer your question?” she asked. “Yes, it’s dangerous. Our whole work is dangerous. You’re free to quit now if you’re scared.”

“Quit and save me the trouble.” It was Sunset’s opponent who spoke—a mare. Sunset didn’t recognize the accent, though it spoke to her of Canterlot. The authoritative tone that gave it away. Canterlot ponies commanded in a way other city ponies did not. Mostly for their benefit, rather than the pony they spoke to. Quick and to the point—to be done with it.

“Being cocky is my shtick, thank you,” Sunset reprimanded. “I’m ready whenever you are.” Turning back, she headed for the closest box. A few of those whom she taught stood near. Saffron shot her image above her head, and Sunset waved in response. 

The rules bewildedered Sunset. No teleportation, levitation, or transformation. No damaging or changing the box or wood. A very tricky challenge. Sunset couldn’t imagine what the solution would be, even as she climbed into the box. Once inside, an Evoker closed the latch.

She watched her opponent get in her own box. Studying her opposition gave Sunset a better idea of the dimensions, such as height. Looking up, she first thought of the idea to flood the box. A fountain of water spraying from her horn and pushing off the wood. When they brought the hay atop the plywood, Sunset realized she’d drown before the water could float off the heavy bale.

“Time.” The Master’s signal went off, and two different Evokers set the tops of the hay bales afire. Sunset watched for a moment, judging her opponent’s hay. It didn’t burn quickly, nor slow enough for the wind to blow it out. Even if she created an air current, it could increase the flame spread.

Swaying side to side, lost in thought—Sunset didn’t fully comprehend the test had started. She watched, debated, revised, and took her time. Only when the heat of her hay began causing sweat to drip down her muzzle did she realize the urgency. The hood of her cloak clung to her soaked brow. She watched her opponent, but it grew incredibly difficult as the hood covered her eyes. In a moment of frustration, Sunset threw off the hood. Several gasps rang out as the crowd saw her face. But she refused to lose, and her opponent hadn’t done anything either.

The mare did notice Sunset. Mimicking, she pulled down her hood as well, exposing her blue face. Twilight hadn’t told her what Minuette looked like aside from her coloring, and so Sunset assumed it to be her. A simple initiate, knocked down from her Evoker status after the reveal of the society. Now they both wanted to be an Evoker, though for very different reasons. It made sense to Sunset.

She wiped the sweat from her eyes with the back of her hoof as her breathing grew harder and harder. Neither she nor Minuette made any progress. They stood staring at one another, each contemplating the dimensions, the spells, and the rules. 

And then it struck Sunset. Not once did the Masters say they couldn’t ask for help! 

She turned away from Minuette, to Saffron. “Hey!” she beckoned the unicorn, refusing to use Saffron’s name. “Come here.”

Saffron looked to the Masters, though neither of them made a move to stop her. She drew close to the box, the flames of the hay brightening her cloak. “Are you alright? What do you need?” Saffron asked.

“Undo the latch,” Sunset commanded.

“What!?” Saffron stepped back and shook her head. “I cannot do that. That’d ruin your trial! Why in Equestria would you want me to have you fail?”

“You wouldn’t be causing me to fail. Look, we’re friends, right?” Sunset asked, and Saffron nodded hesitantly. “Friends help each other out of jams. You just got to trust me. Undo the latch and let me out.”

Saffron glanced to the others who came to cheer Sunset, then to Minuette, and finally the Masters. None made an attempt to stop her. Even when she put her hoof on the latch rather than her magic, no one made a peep. Saffron let the metal latch slope, allowing Sunset to open the glass. She thanked Saffron with a hug, and then announced to the Masters, “I’ve succeeded.”

“You did not succeed.” The Manehattan Master came forward. “Not in the way we expected, at least. But we did not state that you could not ask for help. In a way, you surpassed even our own mantra. Helping Equestria requires us all, and you proved that in asking for help. Your fellowship grants us all a boon.” The other Master stepped forward, presenting the Evoker insignia. “We grant you an advancement, Evoker.”

Sunset allowed the Master to place her new insignia on the cloak. When she went to show the charade of bravado she’d built up, her words fell under the loud scream. A bang followed, like a flowerpot striking cement. 

“No!” The scream echoed against the glass. “If Moondancer were still here, I would’ve won!” The blue unicorn slammed both hooves into the door before teleporting out. It was indeed Twilight's friend Minuette, whose tears littered the grass beneath her. “I knew the answer! I knew it! I knew it right off the bat!” Her head hung low as she screamed into the dirt.

The world altered as the other Evokers put out the flames and teleported the members back to the base. Minuette’s screams now deafened the occupants due to the small room. Even so, Sunset rushed to the crying mare. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, it’s not the end of the world,” she said, raising a hoof to the mare. 

For an instant, Sunset believed Minuette would slap away the hoof. The anger behind the eyes blared with a rain of fire. But she did not assault Sunset. Instead, Minuette threw up her hood and stormed out—the door slamming behind her.

“Everyone, please take your leave,” one of the Masters commanded, pulling Sunset aside. “Do not fret for the mare. She is the one whose friend betrayed us. Let’s focus on you instead.”

Sunset watched as those she knew filtered out until only Saffron remained. But the other Master pushed her out, leaving Sunset alone with the more talkative one. Though she felt pride in accomplishing the feat, Sunset remained on the upset mare. “What’s going to happen to her?” she asked.

“Nothing. She’ll have to find another way to earn the Evoker rank. We’ll also have to find a new trial now that the solution is out there. Letting others see your success will only further their want for training and growing. You truly are a boon.”

Sunset didn’t respond. Her body shook, processing her success.

“And now that you are an Evoker, we can allow you to focus on the next test.” Sunset turned to the Master, her attention focused on the matter at hoof. “Master-in-Training. You’ll be leaving tomorrow for Cloudsdale. The other Master here today will be your advisor. She’ll be scoping out the city to see if they expect us.”

“Cloudsdale? Won’t they notice a unicorn?” Sunset asked, surprised by the location. “What are we doing in Cloudsdale? What kind of test?”

“We test many things to prepare ourselves for an event that will change the world. Raising and lowering the sun and moon was one. This is a test of our abilities to control pegasus magic. Creating weather is one thing, but this is combining a few different aspects. You’ll be bringing Cloudsdale to the ground, literally. Every cloud, every building. A test of strength.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“For us, of course. But we’re not here expecting safety. Completing this final test will prove to the Grandmaster we are ready.” As she walked away, she stopped and turned back to Sunset. “Oh, one more thing.” Lowering her hood, the Master revealed herself. “You should expect the unexpected, since this is your first real taste of what we can do as a group. The Master who is advising won’t come to you in cloak.”

Sunset stared for a moment at the lack of a horn, before falling to the face. “Y-you’re—”

“Not a unicorn? Did you think only unicorns wanted to protect Equestria? Silly girl. As Master-in-Training, you better get used to it. You may be the first unicorn Master of us. Wouldn’t that be nice? I do hope the Grandmaster doesn’t favor you, though. I tend to get jealous.” With a teeth-baring smile, she added, “You’d be wise to stay on my good side.”

“Master—” Sunset went to speak.

But the earth pony shook her head. “We don’t call each other Master, Sunset. Not in the privacy of an empty room like this.” She saw the expression of concern grow over Sunset’s face. “You’re surprised that I’d reveal my face and my name.” She wrapped Sunset in a tight hug. “Don’t be so worried. We’re one great big family. We don’t need to hide ourselves from each other. My name is Suri Polomare, and I can’t wait to see what happens next.”





The pony they called Auburn Nest went to Canterlot’s hospital. She’d drank poison, mind-altering poison at that, for a long period of time. Tirek didn’t care. He was glad to be back in Ponyville, inside Twilight’s castle. It meant he no longer had to wear the ridiculous sheet. Not only that, the purple servant dragon served him crisp, cold water in a tall glass.

The ponies were sitting around with their noses to their books. The snooty one and Twilight searched for anything relating to the print shop in Manehattan. Tirek had no interest in helping, though he sat close to the one who followed Twilight like a lost puppy. He watched, though mostly out of boredom, as she examined pages in a book. The thought of returning to Tartarus over continuing this tedium did cross his mind.

When watching the pony read became too mind-numbing, he switched to the condensation rolling down his glass. It was more intriguing anyway. Which little blob would hit the crystal table first? He likened it to the secret society the ponies chased. If their long term goal was secrecy, they would not have announced themselves to the world. He didn’t bother expounding this idea to the ponies. They were either already aware or wouldn’t listen. Not to him. Especially not within the snooty one’s presence.

But she kept busy with Twilight on the opposite side of the table, and the lackey wasn’t.

Leaning close, he stared over Moondancer’s shoulder, eyeing the words. She read faster than him. The pages blew by too quickly for him to grasp more than a few sentences. Finally, he asked, “What are you looking for?”

Either she’d succumbed to her own little world, or she’d forgotten Tirek was there. She jumped, twisting away, before realizing her mistake. He allowed her several heavy breaths before he repeated the question. “I’m looking for… anything,” she replied, calmly. “This book is almost pristine. There’s no highlighted passages or paragraphs. The binding isn’t worn. But several sections have cuts, and corners bookmarked, and other various markings.”

“Is it important?” he asked, feigning interest out of boredom.

“Oh, sure. We found this in the abandoned house—the one Auburn Nest supposedly owned. It’s one of the copies published by Twilight and Starlight, in fact. It contains the lessons they learned right after Twilight became a princess. All the way up to—” She paused, turning to look up at him. “All the way up to defeating… you.” Her smile fell flat.

“Me?” Tirek snorted. “What? Did they write about me?” He went to put his hand on the page, but the unicorn snatched the book with her magic.

“I-I don’t know if Twilight is okay with letting you read this.”

“I am not a pet for you ponies to decide when my feeding time is,” he replied, and grabbed the book out of the air. “You weren’t aware of my presence over your shoulder. You cannot guard what I read when you cannot even guard yourself.” He set the book back on the table, open to the first pages.

Moondancer shoved herself in front of the book. Her bushy brows pushed together in a face of anger, though it hardly mattered to Tirek. “I can take care of myself.”

“Really? Then why do you appear distraught every time you look at her?” He raised a finger to Twilight. The little unicorn’s expression did change to the troubled features he knew they would. “For her lackey, you sure seem unsure of your place at her side.”

“I’m not her lackey,” she mumbled, “I’m her friend.” 

If every pony were her friend, Tirek believed the world would be a dreadful place to live. Especially for someone like him. He placed a hand on his cheek and contemplated the young mare. An opaque reflection of his stared back at him in her glasses. He knew that every moment he tried to break these ponies apart, they'd just remind themselves of their bonds. But Tirek didn’t understand Moondancer’s words. No matter how smart, he never could've drawn the conclusion that perhaps she only spoke the words to reassure herself. 

“Fine, go ahead and read if you’re so interested,” she snapped in a quiet voice. “Maybe you’ll learn what friendship means.”

He doubted it, yet read anyway. 

The first entry he asked about related to Manehattan. “Why is it these all have some valuable lesson about being better? I thought you ponies wanted to be friendly. Is being better than somepony else not denotative to that nature?”

“We’re not trying to be better than someone else. Just better than our previous selves.”

“Reincarnation?”

Moondancer shot a look with furrowed brows and he realized the stupidity of his question.

Returning to a few of the later chapters, he motioned to a sentence. “What is this … Sweetie Belle?”

“Oh, that’s a Cutie Mark Crusader,” she replied, as if it made sense. “And then here. This is the first entry that relates to the keys they received,” she added, as if it made even more sense. “Then here, Rainbow Dash’s. Pinkie Pie’s is this one.”

“What's so special about these keys?” he asked her. He didn’t expect the sudden, pale reaction he received. If glass shattered, the unicorn heard it when he had not. “Well? Do you know or not?”

“They opened a box,” she answered, and then her jaw clicked shut.

Playing with his beard, Tirek allowed the moment to sit in. “What box?” he asked in a slow, quiet drawl. He didn’t want to spook the mare, since it clearly wasn’t in the book. He’d need to learn it from her or another. But going through the trouble of asking somepony else wouldn’t be worth it. At least, that’s what he assumed until she answered.

“The box, a gift from the Tree of Harmony. That’s what I heard. It contained the unique power to—” she gulped down the fear emanating in her voice “—defeat you.”

Tirek’s eyes went as wide as they could. “So they did write about me! It does explain why they had their power returned. How did this tree give them such a treasure? Did it mail a leaf?” The whole idea of a magical tree granting glorious power sounded ridiculous. But he lost, and Tartarus remained his home. If a tree was the reason, he wanted to know why. “How did they come across this box?”

“I’m not sure.” Moondancer raised up to ask Twilight, but her face returned to the flustered look. As luck had it, the purple servant dragon returned to refill glasses. “Spike,” the unicorn beckoned him. “Spike, how did the bearers find the box with the keys and things?”

As the dragon filled Tirek’s glass, he replied with a single name. “Discord.”

“Discord?” She blinked.

“Discord!” Tirek spat the name.

“Yeah, back when he ruled over Equestria, he planted seeds around the Tree of Harmony. They got unleashed and Twilight and the others put back the Elements to remove the corruption. Got the box in return. Needed six keys to open it, but they used the power inside to defeat—” He stopped, realizing the mistake. His eyes shot up at Tirek. “No more water for you,” he said harshly, pointing a finger, before walking away.

When the two sat alone, Tirek returned to the book. “Ironic. Discord doomed me to fail before I even realized he sided with ponies,” he mused aloud.

Moondancer grimaced. “I might regret this, but you need to read the final entry.” Flipping to the back of the journal, she found Twilight’s admission. “This is after your defeat.”

Tirek read over the entry. Then reread it. He remained silent for a long time as he processed everything. Internally, however, was a different story. The first read filled him with anger. The second filled him with fear. The third filled him with knowledge. 

The little worm had planned everything. 

The tale painted a picture in his mind, to which he unfolded the events. The intruding vines forced the bearers to return the Elements. This granted them a box, all caused by Discord. He then outlined passages in their special little journal, helping them figure it out. But even knowing about the box, he still betrayed them, joining Tirek. He was no fool! Discord knew joining Tirek would only end in a betrayal—and he wanted that! The necklace. Scorpan’s necklace! That led to the key and Discord knew it!

“Tirek? Are you alright?” Moondancer asked.

Though he couldn’t see his reflection, he knew anger must’ve seeped through. His red knuckles were almost white with how clenched he held them. “Did Discord really suggest including me in your search for the society?” he asked the mare.

“Uh, yes? Why do you ask?”

Slumping back on his equine body, Tirek closed his eyes. He fell into a wave of pondering, not bothering to answer her. Tirek didn’t understand what that little abomination planned. He was needed for something. But what? How could Discord know? What could he do that Discord could not? Or was it even that way? Tirek found himself wondering if he was not just a pawn in a bigger scheme.

He relaxed in his thoughts, only for an anguished cry to wrestle him from his brooding stupor. “I should’ve known!” Twilight Sparkle yelled. Her hooves slammed into the table and rattled the glasses of water. “Flim and Flam! They own the print shop!” Pointing to Moondancer and Tirek, she commanded them to rise. “Time to make an arrest!”
> Problem 7: Reasons
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Moondancer officially hated Las Pegasus.

Since they arrived in the high-flying, high-stakes city, the trio had been bombarded with requests. Tourists wanted their picture taken with the Princess Twilight Sparkle, while others wanted to create a gag photo of running from the Lord Tirek. But no matter what, ponies did not want a photo with Moondancer. She began to begrudge not staying in Canterlot, alone, in her own comforting home. While watching another family surround Twilight, she debated climbing the closest roller coaster and jumping.

Twilight didn’t originally agree to any of the photos at all. It wasn’t until the tourists stopped Tirek and he obliged that things changed. Twilight felt compelled to honor her citizens’ requests. If Lord Tirek, fearsome villain of all ponies, allowed photos, then the Princess of Friendship should too. He even gave out a few autographs for those interested in watching him work his hands. Nevertheless, Moondancer found distaste in how long it took. Walking through the city turned into one big mistake.

“You’re awfully calm, Tirek,” Twilight said once they continued. “I didn’t expect you to be so accepting of these requests. You haven’t snarled at a single pony today.”

He grunted, and said, “Yes.”

“Yes? Yes—what?” she asked, confused by the response.

He didn’t reply. Looking back at him, Moondancer noticed his crossed arms and inquisitive expression. He’d been like that ever since they left Ponyville. The friendship journal came into her mind, and she wanted to tell Twilight her experience of sharing it with Tirek, but another tourist wanted another photograph. This one she decided to photobomb as her sanity dwindled.

Seven photos and four signings later, they arrived at the Horsehead Ne-bowl-ula. The pun caused Moondancer to wince when she first heard it, and seeing it in lights didn’t stunt her reaction. Of course, that was only an hour ago. Visiting the resort the Flim Flam Brothers owned, they found no sign or tail of the twins. The receptionist generously gave the Princess Twilight Sparkle directions to the two. That, and she wanted a photo, an autograph, and a hug.

But if hearing the terrible name for the bowling alley was the worst part of Moondancer’s day, she’d be okay with that. Unfortunately, this was Las Pegasus. And for the Horsehead Ne-bowl-ula, a championship tournament was daily.

Every lane held two to four ponies occupying the rosters with teams or duos. Maple and pine alleys shone with the glow of oil as marble balls rushed for pins. Even the gutters had a glistening luster, though only the poorest bowlers saw the polish.

“They dress in tacky outfits with hats,” Twilight told them as they examined the crowd. Unfortunately, tacky described the bowling alley with such accuracy that it should’ve been written on the floor. Custom made shirts, special glittered signs, and the ugliest neon shoes were as common as air. “Well, they’re yellow. Red and white hair. One has a mustache?” she described. Most every stallion in the alley had a mustache, or some form of goatee. “Let’s just stick together. I know what they look like.”

As they examined the first lane, Tirek pointed to the strange glass cases above the seating area. “What sort of game is this? Are those X's bad? Why does the number jump?” He rattled off his questions before pointing to the very left side. “What does that number and weight mean?”

“Looks like the lanes aren’t manual. Fancy life Las Pegasus gets the automatic scorers,” Moondancer answered. “Also, the words are the name he chose. GiveMeStrikes is definitely not his real name.” She nodded to the stallion readying himself to bowl and pointed to the custom name stitched below his team’s. “That one is Guts. Can’t say it’s inaccurate with that many zeroes.”

“They’re all fake names,” Twilight said, grinding her teeth. “Which means we can’t rely on them to find Flim and Flam.”

“Their team name on the other hoof.” Moondancer glanced between several of the teams siding the nearest lane. “If Tirek and I spot something that relates to them, we might be able to help while you look for their faces. Keep an eye out for a team with brother or twin or unicorn in their name, Tirek. You’re taller, you’ve got the best chance of spotting them.”

As they picked a direction, dodging the floating pegasus employees, they reached a dead end. Some of the bowlers stopped and gawked, and dropped bowling balls on their hooves. “Princess Twilight Sparkle!” a few onlookers cheered. More photographs!

Moondancer sulked behind Twilight in every photo taken, ceasing her search. She made it a point of contention to have the weirdest face she could imagine for every picture. She stuck her tongue out as two ponies came to both sides. “I do love tormenting tourists with disruptive backgrounds,” the stallion to her left said. She looked up at him, his eyes went cross and lips puckered. 

“It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t every five seconds,” Moondancer replied. She put her hoof on the tip of her nose and pulled up.

“At least no one is asking for the sidekick to take the picture. Though that also means no one is asking to take a photo with you,” the stallion to her right added.

“I don’t mind,” she said, suddenly defensive. “I’m not the princess here.”

“Nonsense!” The two said in unison before a self-developing camera appeared in front of them. “Say 'Princess!'” The blaring light went off before Moondancer could even put her hooves up to prevent being blinded. Once she regained focus, she found the photo hovering in front of her. 

In the picture, the two stallions made crazy faces. Moondancer held a clueless, shocked expression. She didn’t notice until now that the stallion to her right had a mustache. Turning to him, she asked, “Are you Flim?”

“No,” he replied.

“Oh. Alright. Thanks for the photo I guess.” Moondancer stuck it in her sweater with the notepad. As she did, Twilight sprang up in front of her—the abruptness sending her falling to her rump.

“You found them!” Twilight said, pointing to the two.

Moondancer’s bushy brows fell together. She scowled up at the stallion to her right.  “I thought you said you weren’t Flim!”

“And I’m not! He’s Flim!” he replied.

“And he’s Flam!” Flim pointed to the mustached stallion. 

“And we’re the world-famous Flim Flam Brothers!” they sang in unison.

“And you both are under arrest for conspiring against Equestria!” Twilight bellowed at the top of her lungs. “Endangering ponies in the Crystal Empire, Manehattan, and Appleloosa. You’re linked to several crimes committed by the Society of Secret Sorcery. I demand your full cooperation, and all punishments will be lenient if you comply,” she told them.

Standing at Twilight’s side, Moondancer glanced over the twins. In their bowling uniforms of yellow and black, they both wore helmets. High-Striking Heroes, their name written into their shirts. It had nothing to do with brothers or unicorns, as Moondancer first believed. The helmets mimicked that of the old Wonderbolt aviator style, without goggles. She guessed flying related to being high in the sky, and they kind of looked like bees. Though whether she found them to be eccentric, or if Las Pegasus was just nutty, she couldn’t quite be sure.

“Don’t threaten us with a good time!” Flim said. Or at least, Moondancer believed it was Flim. The two did not have their real names stitched into their outfits.

“We run an establishment that pays taxes, gives to charity, pays the appropriate minimum wage, and offers trifling health coverage! What more could we do?” Flam asked.

“You own a print shop in Manehattan. We’ve discovered it has connections with this criminal society. One that caused the recent eclipse, which you may have seen or were part of,” Twilight replied. “Are you denying you own the print shop?”

The two brothers looked at each other, then back to Twilight. “We are!” they said in unison.

“We have your names and records for the building,” Moondancer stated.

“For the building!” Flim pointed out, raising a hoof and smiling. “Investments, my dear lady. Own the building, lease it out! The print shop rents the place from us, giving us a nice little source of revenue!”

“From Ponyville to Fillydelphia! We own a building in every town! Never know when the land deed will suddenly be worth a fortune.” Flam took off his hat, revealing the white and red hair. “Though our main focus right now is our resort right here in Las Pegasus. I’m sure you’d know that, seeing as how your friends helped us—acquire—it?”

With a roll of her eyes, Twilight let out a long-winded sigh. Moondancer stepped up in the moment in an attempt to steer the conversation back to Manehattan. “Well, if you don’t own the building, could you tell us who you leased it to? It’d help us a bunch and clear your names.”

“No can do!” they said in unison. “Renter confidentiality!”

“There’s no such thing,” Twilight argued, her voice booming against the alley’s rattling noise.

“There is in every contract we sign out!” Flim replied. “Keeps us from situations like this!” He chuckled as he threw a hoof around his brother. “Dislike it all you want, but there’s no way we’d break a contract. Not unless there was a better one to be had!”

Moondancer squinted, not liking the sound of that. 

“What did you have in mind?” Twilight asked without a single drip of enthusiasm.

“Princess Twilight Sparkle!” Flim howled. “On display in our resort from eleven to eight, every other weekend for three years!”

Flam added, “Photographs, autographs, and hugs! Holidays off. World-saving clause. Two thirty-minute breaks. And a generous contract renewal bonus after the three years!”

A snicker came from the centaur. “If she refuses, I’ll accept. Beats living in Tartarus,” Tirek mocked.

“Give me a moment to think this over,” Twilight requested, taking Moondancer aside. Standing away, with Tirek, she looked Moondancer square in the eyes. “So I think having Tirek drain them of their magic is the best solution.”

Before tripping over her words, Moondancer held a long, monotone note as her brain caught up to the notion. “Are you sure that’s the best solution?” she asked once she regained full mental function. “I’m not disagreeing, since you know more about these two. But moving straight to Tirek?” She looked up at the centaur who appeared on the verge of drooling. “Are they really that troublesome?”

“Yes. Come with me,” Twilight commanded the two. Returning to the brothers, she lifted a hoof to Tirek. “Flim, Flam. Your request for a contract is so awful, I would prefer giving you an unjust ultimatum over signing. Not only are we on a time crunch to find the leaders of this secret society, we cannot even prove that you’re not part of it. This contract would make it impossible for me to continue my search.”

Flam's eyebrows furrowed. “We don’t know a thing about your society—but you want information and everything can be bought for the right price. Negotiations, Brother! We’ll be hosting a princess in our resort by the day’s end!”

A table appeared out of thin air in front of them, right in the middle of the bowling alley. Though plenty of ponies stopped their games to stare at the events unfolding, they now gathered to see the negotiations. Even the bowling alley staff, like the shoe trader, came to watch all the way from the entrance. 

Moondancer pointed out the obvious. “You two are unicorns. And if you’re known worldwide, why wouldn’t they invite you into the Society of Secret Sorcery?” It seemed simple in reasoning.

“Why would a pair of world-famous stallions like the Flim Flam Brothers be part of a secret society?” Tirek countered, satire echoing in every syllable.

Twilight shot an annoyed look at him, but it faded almost immediately. “And the society’s whole façade is protecting Equestria. Knowing these two, the first thing they’d ask is how much money they could make in such an effort. Or where the profit could be had.”

“Dear brother of mine,” Flam said, “I believe we’ve become stagnant. Our shticks and idioms are commonplace! Our personalities caricatures!”

“We’ll work on it later, Brother.” Flim popped a contract onto the table, setting his hat down with it. “Come now, Princess Twilight! Surely a minimum three years of service is fine payment for our information!”

Another long sigh left Twilight’s lips. Moondancer could tell what would come next. She moved to the side, allowing Tirek a further place against the table. “No, as I’ve said, your contract is atrocious. Instead, I’m giving you an ultimatum. Since you’re participating in blocking this criminal case, you have two choices. Tell me who the renter is, or we’ll believe you’re working with the society. As such, I’ll allow Tirek to drain your magic.”

Cracking his neck, then his knuckles, Tirek smiled down on them with satisfaction. “And she is not bluffing. They’ve been treating me like a dog, and I’m about to get my treat for being so good. Please deny her request, for I am very hungry.”

The two brothers turned to each other. Moondancer expected them to now understand the severity of the situation. If Twilight willingly allowed Lord Tirek to absorb their magic, then the world needed saving. But in unnerving unison, the twins beamed wide. “We deny! Drain our magic!” they spoke in tandem. Bowing their heads to the centaur, they pointed their horns to his mouth.

“Wait, what!?” Tirek shouted, raising a hand to shield himself. “You want me to drain your magic? Why?”

“If the princess allows you to drain our magic—” Flim said.

“We get to sue the crown for reckless endangerment!” Flam finished.

“With all these witnesses, we’ll win a hefty settlement!” they spoke in unison. “So, please, drain us dry! Have our magic! We won’t cry! Eat up!”

Covering his mouth, Tirek took a step back. “I think I’m going to be sick.” He turned away, and his beady eyes met both mares. “Ponies wanting me to drain them.” He stifled a retch. “Put me back in Tartarus, I’ve found my weakness. This is worse than anything you princesses have ever done to me.”

The three took a step from the table to reform their plan of attack. “Okay, I really don’t want to sign their contract,” Twilight whispered. “And even if Tirek could contain himself for a minute to drain their magic, I don’t want Celestia to pay in the end. Even if these two are con-artists, they’d get a fair trial. Really debating on whether or not to join Tirek in Tartarus at this point. Moondancer, do you have any ideas?”

“Me? You’re asking me?” she gawked. “I couldn’t possibly know.”

“Yes. Why ask her?” Tirek wondered, choking for air. “She gets anxious every time she looks at you. Helping with this is like asking a sheep to shear itself. These monstrous thieves are going to get you in a thirty-year contract if you rely on her flustered thinking.”

Twilight’s mouth soured as her cheeks tightened. “Are you still whipping yourself over what happened? It wasn’t your fault. It was Minu—” She stopped herself, biting hard on her lip. “Moondancer,” she continued, “I brought you along because I knew I could rely on you. You’re the one who saw what happened to Auburn Nest! Can you seriously say you don’t have the strength or courage that I see in you?”

“Princess Twilight?” one brother called. “We’re not willing to wait all day.”

Moondancer didn’t feel confident in her words or her idea. Having someone else speak praise did not remove the self-doubt in her heart. The feeling of not being good enough. But the motivation to try for their sake could be enough to kick-start the process, especially when it came from a valuable friend.

As she stared deep into Twilight’s eyes, Moondancer felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. Sharing books and laughs. But the wave crashed as she realized that was the past. Stuck in the same place as always. Now, in the present, with bowling pins breaking apart, she snapped to the twins. A bigger feeling took control. She understood the meaning behind those emotions.

Her doubts, her confidence. Moondancer let both those things fall on Twilight. Just like her nostalgia. Without realizing it, she let the alicorn bear the weight of her feelings. Every time she looked at Twilight, she saw her own guilt. And now, Twilight gave back the confidence, breaking her doubt. The words didn’t reach their mark, but Moondancer felt the truth beneath them. “Show them what you can do!” it said in Twilight’s voice.

“I’m not sure I’m the right pony to tackle dealing with your abrasive contract.” Moondancer stepped to the table. “I haven’t been sure of anything in a little while now, except for my own faults. Maybe that’s why I can recognize yours.”

The twins looked at each other. “Our faults?” Flim said. “Our faults!” Flam mockingly repeated. 

“This contract is forethought, planned well in advanced. There’s no vision. It’s like a lock without a key. You must’ve made it a while ago without considering the consequences. I mean, we’re in the middle of a criminal investigation. Ponies’ lives are in danger. Your little extortion is blocking our investigating, putting you in serious trouble. Like, more trouble than just partaking in the society.”

“So what? You think you know a little bit about litigation and we’ll kowtow to you?” Flam threw his head back with laughter. “Honey. We’ve been in this game far longer than you. For starters, you never obtained a warrant, so we never had to give you any information at all.”

“Twilight Sparkle is a princess. She could sign off on a warrant right now. Or she can remove the need for one. She has the authority.”

Flim raised a hoof and began shouting, but Flam quickly stopped his brother. “Now, now. Even if that’s true, the ramifications would allow us to pursue some legal entanglement. We’d sue the crown, and I have no doubt we’d win. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” Flam asked, clearly thinking they’d won.

“Then go ahead and sue,” Moondancer replied. “Get the best lawyer money can buy.” She paused, watching their confused expressions grow. “But before you do, we’ll be taking all your assets and putting blocks on all your accounts. Your resorts, residences, managed properties. Your bank accounts, financial advisors, and anything else relating to your monetary gains will be examined with scrutiny.”

“You can’t do that!” Flam snarled.

“This is a criminal investigation,” she said with calmness. “You are owner of such a place within our inquiry.” Moondancer thought it best to leave out that all they had to go on was a scent found by Tirek. “That means all ownership under you will also need examination. We’ll be closing your resort today along with any other businesses. Your current residence will be searched by authorities for information relating to the society. Should we find other criminal activity, we’ll add it to the list.”

Flim fainted into his brother’s forelegs. “You’ll ruin us!” Flam said, fanning his brother. “All for what? A name? What kind of sick pony would do that? Princess of Friendship my left ear! The company she keeps is monsters! You all should be ashamed! Or in Tartarus!”

“I wouldn’t go around claiming that.” Moondancer held back a grin. “What if Twilight’s credibility falls apart? She could sue for defamation!”

Shaking his brother awake, Flam pleaded to tell the name. Flim held no hesitation either. Without another thought from the two, they gave up the name of the Master. “Moondancer! You did it!” Twilight cheered before the name hit her registry. “Wait. He’s an earth pony.”

Moondancer felt a sense of pride in defeating the two brothers, but that washed aside for Twilight’s reveal. “Svengallop? I've never heard of him. He's an earth pony? But that’s impossible, Twilight. Everyone there is a unicorn.”

“I smelled an earth pony,” Tirek revealed, stunning them both. “It makes perfect sense. It’s why the smell retained in the cloak remained weak and pathetic. Whoever this stallion is, they do not use magic like you two. And if she claims they're an earth pony, then it makes sense to me.”





Miles beneath the city, every cloud looked black from the underside. Standing far back or flying high revealed the tops to be white and fluffy. Homes rose like elephants among squirrels. But underneath, far below, it was black. The waterfalls trickled by the gallons into the forked river that ran through the plain. The few rainbowfalls that existed never hit the ground, their light disappearing midway. 

In the shadow caused by the city, Sunset gathered with over forty other unicorns. She stood off from anypony, beneath a young pinewood. The society left her in charge of signaling the test, and she needed a Master to give her the go ahead. They couldn’t very well signal it, since none of the three were unicorns, as she learned. But she hoped the Master would never arrive. 

Tearing down Cloudsdale didn’t feel like a justified act for Equestria’s secret defense force. But from all the other problems caused by the secretive group, this fell right in line with their actions. Sunset spent time analyzing the reasoning, to fill the gaps. She wondered what sort of things the Masters told other members. There needed to be a reason. Maybe a villain could fly, reach Cloudsdale, and they were testing if they could pull the city down. 

She didn’t agree with their methods, and she was glad her involvement didn’t include any of the previous tests. Hearing of them from the other members, she wondered how they could agree to such things. It's why she tried to find the reason. Flooding the Crystal Empire could test the city against other natural disasters besides a raging blizzard—but she had nothing for Manehattan and Appleloosa.

Sunset huddled against the bark. A sudden gust blew above, rocking the tree. Sunset kept her hood up to hide her face should another member grow bored of waiting and come for a chat. Of course, some of the Evokers knew her face. The dark grey cloaks hid her fellow unicorns well. She couldn’t even see the closest one. The entire city hovered, yet they surrounded it from the ground. A full circle, miles in diameter. 

The tree rocked again, this time with no wind.

Sunset knew the name and face of one Master. She debated on learning the second today, then teleporting to Ponyville. Without two Masters, she might cripple the society. But if they were not unicorns, what could they do? How were they any use to the Grandmaster? Perhaps it was the Grandmaster she needed before truly abandoning ship. 

She wanted nothing more than to escape the wild ride. Every muscle tensed in her body, knowing the atrocity about to occur.

“Looks like everypony is in position. Hope we don’t require all the members.”

The voice didn’t startle Sunset, though her heart jumped to her throat. It was time. She subtly glanced around the tree in search of the pony. “I was told I’d be meeting someone here.” With a whistle, the pony announced herself. Sunset stepped back from the tree.

Another gust blew down pine needles along with Sunset's hood. “I’ve been scouting them all night. Not a single pony expecting us. I would’ve thought my home city would tighten up after Appleloosa. Maybe they don’t expect us to do another weather trick. Good thing it’s not.”

A pegasus—teal fur and wings.

“Lightning Dust,” the pegasus introduced herself. “You might make Master if things go well today,” Dust spoke bluntly, a snicker hidden in her words. “You ready to get things started?” Sunset nodded in response. “Good. You’re approved to begin. I’m heading up to run interference.”

Before the pegasus could zoom off, Sunset asked one question. “Why? Why are we doing this?”

“You already know the reason,” Lightning Dust snapped, lunging like a cornered rat. She motioned to her hornless forehead and pointed to her flapping wings. “This is the final test needed to prove to the Grandmaster we’re ready. So get, it, done,” she commanded.

Sunset pulled her hood back up as Lightning Dust flew away. There was no doubt about it. Forget the Masters. The Grandmaster was the root, stem, and flower of this whole operation. Pulling out the weeds only gave her more sun to grow. If Sunset could be any help, she needed to find out who the Grandmaster really was.

Sunset hesitated as she stepped out from beneath the tree, yet her horn lit anyway. An explosive wave of magic rocketed out above her head. An image formed in the sparks to create the logo of the Grandmaster’s insignia. A golden frame, with an eyeless alicorn, large enough for the closest members to see. This was Sunset’s addition to the society. Whatever signal they used prior to her arrival, Sunset’s images proved a better tool.

Acknowledging they saw, those members shot the same image.

Every unicorn repeated this until the furthest point from Sunset produced the logo. And the test began. Sunset’s horn crackled with energy, sparking beneath the hood. Levitating something against gravity depended on the weight. But how would one bring something down that didn't succumb to gravitational pull? 

Sunset saw it much like being in a pool with her clothes on. Floating on the water was easy—most mammals have natural buoyancy. But diving under, which was difficult even when clothed, had buoyancy force swimmers back to the surface. Then getting out of the water with clothes on? A bag of bricks would be easier to carry. At least then she knew no one would be wet. Pulling Cloudsdale to the earth didn't seem different. 

These ponies were the same group that raised the sun and moon. But those celestial bodies held in place after they moved them. Levitation wasn’t the issue. And if any pony’s magic faltered, the city would rise once more. Only a few seconds into the demonstration of power could they see the city move, and the rise. Everyone must've noticed, and the magic grew stronger, their wills combined. Lower and lower, meters became miles. 

And then Sunset witnessed the one problem that came with lowering clouds.

Though the combined large clouds that created the circumference of the city remained intact, the smaller platforms did not. The difference in air temperature lower to the ground broke the clouds, becoming fog. Those buildings that sat atop the foggy mixtures felt gravity for the first time.

Since the separate buildings were on the edges, they brought them down quicker than the whole of Cloudsdale. So much so that the first home came crashing down in front of Sunset. It shattered on impact, the roof collapsed inward, and the walls fell to the sides.

Sunset ceased her magic immediately, rushing to the home. With her magic, she pulled debris apart, ripping up the devastated roof. She cursed herself for blindly putting her own needs first, but that fell away when she found the home empty. Whoever lived here escaped or hadn't been home. 

Outside, Cloudsdale hovered only a small stretch above, and rapidly fell. Sunset couldn’t escape as the main cloud touched down, soaking her in a haze. The coldness wrapped around her cloak and tightened it with condensation, then frost. Darkness shrouded her as the buildings loomed above. She wondered how long Cloudsdale could maintain the weight before the new temperature dissipated it.

But the test finished. Whatever other buildings fell, it didn’t matter. Cloudsdale now sat on the ground.

The little swirling wafts of cloud around her reminded Sunset of another time and place. Time seemed still there too. With her hood down, she trudged back the way she came and hoped to still escape with the other members. Some of the more adept initiates maintained portals back to the hideout on the outskirts of the forest, but only for a short while.

Before she reached the edge of the cloud and the sun-touched ground, Sunset had to drop low. A pony trudged through the haze, and she assumed them a pegasus. Her chest felt tight. Crawling, she moved in the opposite direction around the pony, but a light suddenly arose from them.

“Initiate or Evoker?” Sunset called and threw her hood back on.

The unicorn’s light diminished as it turned into a crackling dimness around the pony. They came toward Sunset, their hood down. “Initiate, no thanks to you,” the mare said. Sunset recognized the face even through the mist. “But I won’t have to worry about that for long. A new Evoker spot’ll open up right after we’re rid of you.”

“You’re going to challenge me? You can’t compare to my magic,” Sunset replied and readied for a fight.

“I know. But I saw you. You rushed straight into that house.” The tone Minuette spoke with wasn’t happy to fight, or eager to pay retribution. A hanging melancholy gripped her vocal chords and turned the words weak. “I know somepony else like that. It’s why I know you won’t fight back.”

“You saw that? Well, it doesn’t matter. You’re wrong. I won’t lose to you.”

“I’m not talking about me,” she replied, and her horn’s energy released.

The world brightened around Sunset. The clouds evaporated around her, and the sun’s rays fell in with the pony shadows. “There’s one!” a mare yelled. “Get the bonehead!” another shouted.

The angry pegasi fell on Sunset in an instant. Tearing at her cloak, they grappled against her. Though the suddenness surprised her, instinct fell into teleporting away. It was no problem for a unicorn such as herself. But the pegasi weren’t alone in their assault. They were nothing more than a distraction.

In the cloudy mist, Minuette remained. Were it not for the pegasi surprising her, keeping her constrained, Sunset could’ve easily avoided the second spell released by the blue unicorn. But with her reaction time slowed, and Minuette’s aim precise. Sunset managed to teleport out from underneath Cloudsdale, leaving the pegasi behind, but only back to the pinewood tree. Darkness surrounded her as quickly as the pegasi had. The spell dulled Sunset’s senses and grew her exhaustion. The sleep spell overtook her as she fell to the ground with the noise of gusts being the last thing she heard.
> Problem 8: Revenge
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Somewhere in the distance, Sunset heard the pitter-patter of rain. It didn’t sound close, thankfully. Upon opening her eyes, she found darkness to be the only thing surrounding her. Nothing indicated of where anything was—including herself. The blanket around her shoulders and the lack of stars answered one question, but another arose in its place. Whose home or room was this? She hoped that upon lighting her horn she would find the bunk beds within the secret society. Instead, she found crystal. 

Her cloak gone; she couldn’t hide. Without the garment to swallow up her identity, she felt unsure of leaving the room. But this had to be Twilight’s castle. She was certain of it. 

At the sole door in the room, Sunset dimmed her light and snuck a peek. The castle halls were dark. Nothing suggested whether she was near the room with the mirror to another world or the front door. She had the choice to wait or go. To stay meant a longer explanation for the Masters, and she couldn't be sure what she could say. How did she get to Ponyville? She'd been in Cloudsdale, under attack by a few pegasi just moments ago. And there certainly wasn’t rain. But she could hear it as she meandered the maze of crystal corridors. No light but her own. Then, the entryway came into view. The loud drizzle of rain battered the windows, though night hid the droplets on the glass.

If she was here, then someone found her on the ground outside Cloudsdale. No doubt the guards would’ve brought her immediately to Twilight—she’d been the one to put out the warrant for all cloaked individuals. But where was the alicorn? Who else had the society lost? Was her cover blown? A thousand questions rattled off in Sunset’s mind. She could only be certain of one thing—she needed to spill everything while she had the chance. 

The castle was large, but unique in its design. Most halls led round to one room in particular. One room, cracked and lit, with three mares. Twilight, Starlight, and Moondancer. Sunset peered in, examining the room carefully. They were alone. With a whistle garnering their attention, she asked, “Anyone else here?”

“Sunset! You’re awake!” Twilight rose, coming to offer a hug. “Cloudsdale found you, the Royal Guard brought you here. But you’ve been sleeping for a while now. What happened!? Cloudsdale—it sunk to the ground. The society’s work?”

“Not sunk. They brought it to the ground. Their final test,” Sunset explained. “There’s so much I’ve got to tell you.”

“Excuse me.” Moondancer rose too, though she didn't include a hug—a sour face in its place. “You were part of that? You helped bring Cloudsdale down? Ponies lost their homes! Businesses! And they still haven’t managed to bring it back into the air. We’re under a torrential downpour because so many clouds went shooting out from the city! What were you thinking!?”

Sunset stepped beside Twilight and put a hoof around her. “I had thought of keeping the charade up until I could learn who the Grandmaster is. If I didn’t participate, I couldn’t get to where I am in the society!”

“Where you are?” Starlight questioned. She didn’t stand—her tiredness written into the bags beneath her eyes. They all looked tired to Sunset. “That kinda sounds like you’ve joined them.”

“Which she apparently has since she’s doing their dirty work,” Moondancer added.

“Girls, both of you calm down,” Twilight commanded them. “Sunset, can you start from the beginning? You managed to get into the society, right? We’ve learned who one Master is. Did you find the identity of the Grandmaster?”

Sunset blinked, surprised by their success. “Really? No. I don’t know who the Grandmaster is yet. I’m this close though!” She held up her hoof as if to display the distance between her non-existent fingers. “I am a Master-in-Training, and I know two of the Masters. One is Suri Polomare and the other is Lightning Dust. Who did you discover?”

By the angered expression shifting through Twilight’s face, it became clear to Sunset that something clicked. “They are targeting us!” she snapped. “Suri Polomare, Lightning Dust, and Svengallop! These three have all had conflict with us bearers in some way. It’s not just personal—it’s revenge!”

Starlight raised a hoof. “Suri Polomare is in the journal, right? Who are the other two?”

“Yeah, fill us in, Twilight,” Sunset said.

A litany of groans erupted from the alicorn accompanied by strange faces. Struggling with the words, she said, “Where do I even begin?” Twilight levitated the friendship journal from the table and opened up to the Manehattan passage. “Suri is a conniving seamstress. We helped Rarity win against her in Manehattan during a dress competition—Suri lied and cheated, stealing Rarity’s idea. We gained a key from the thread given to Rarity by Miss Coco Pommel.

“She no doubt has resentment towards Rarity, and perhaps the rest of us, for succeeding despite Suri’s efforts. Lightning Dust is a different story and the oldest. From what I recall, Rainbow Dash teamed up with her in the Wonderbolts when she first started out. Lightning Dust endangered our lives and acted out too much. They kicked her out. Like Suri, I bet Lightning Dust blames Rainbow Dash, and all of us, for her own failure. If revenge is their goal, it makes sense they’d team up.”

“What about Svengallop? What’s his reasoning?” Moondancer asked.

“Svengallop is different. He is the former agent of Countess Coloratura from Manehattan. He controlled every portion of Coloratura’s life and used her fame to further his wealth and success. But he didn’t know Applejack was her friend from long ago. After Pinkie Pie, Applejack, and I helped expose his corruption, Coloratura refused to have him as her agent. From my understanding, she had been his most successful client. I’m not sure why he’d want revenge on all the bearers. If he was sour enough about it, I suppose it would make sense that these three formed a band against all of us.”

Sunset pointed out the obvious. “Does that mean the Grandmaster is someone else you’ve scorned? Is she even a unicorn?”

“I’ve seen her levitate. The only time I saw her, in fact. And she opened a vision to the outside when we performed the eclipse,” Moondancer answered. “Have you spurned any unicorns, Twilight?”

Sunset glanced at Starlight, and with a smug grin, she raised her hoof. Starlight mimicked the gesture, re-raising her hoof and giggling. “Very funny, girls,” Twilight said with a roll of her eyes and a slight smile. “So you haven’t met her, Sunset?”

“No, but I know what she wants. Their whole goal is to become alicorns,” Sunset replied. “That was their invitational spiel. Lightning Dust made a point to indicate it the last time I brought it up. It’s supposed to happen after the test—bringing down Cloudsdale.” She then let out a gasp. “That may mean they’re in the process right now!”

“Not likely.” Twilight shook her head. “We’ve got Svengallop locked up here. Unless they’d not give a hoot about including one of their founding members in this—what would you call it? A ritual? How would they even perform such a thing? They didn’t mention that, did they?”

“Well, no. But you have Svengallop? Problem solved!” Sunset cheered, clapping her hooves together. “Let me return with him to the society. Ritual starts, I teleport out, then back in with you guys. Give them the ol’ blindside wallop!”

Moondancer moved in between Sunset and Twilight, her furrowed look surprising to Sunset. “Give you Svengallop?” she said in a dismissive, and rather rude, tone. “Not a chance. He’s our only piece of information on the rest of the society.”

“Have you gotten anything from him?” Sunset curtly asked as she squinted at the pale unicorn.

“No. But that’s no reason we should just give up. He knows who the Grandmaster is,” Moondancer countered. Creating a magical, transparent whiteboard above her, she pointed to a set of faces. “The Masters all know who the Grandmaster is, and now we know who they all are. Let’s round them up, lock them away, and they’ll eventually tell us who the Grandmaster is.” The three faces became covered in tiny steel bars.

Starlight then edged into the conversation, though she still hadn’t moved from the table. “Not that I’m on either side of this fence yet, but that could take a while. Sunset’s plan of returning with Svengallop is a now idea, while that plan is a long time in waiting. In that time, the Grandmaster might go ahead with her ritual without the Masters. They’re not unicorns, she doesn’t need them. She needs the society’s members.”

“Exactly. So it’s decided,” Sunset said with a nod. “I’ll take Svengallop now, find out where this ritual is, and get you all there.” As she trotted to the closest door, Moondancer blocked her path.

“Twilight hasn’t agreed to that plan. She’s in charge here, not you,” Moondancer warned, nostrils flaring.

Sunset turned back to the alicorn, expecting Twilight to agree with her. “Of course she’s in charge, and she agrees with me. Right, Twilight? I mean, this would solve your problem.” Sunset marched toward Twilight. “I know the shoe is usually on the other foot—err, hoof. But it’s about time I pay you back for what you’ve done for me. What are friends for?”

“Sunset. I actually agree with Moondancer,” Twilight replied, hesitantly. “Ritual or not, I don’t believe the Grandmaster has that kind of power. If we wait, Svengallop will tell us. I’ll put a bulletin out on Suri and Dust. We’ll have them arrested and they can sit in a room until they grow bored. One of them will crack.”

“If you arrest them, the society will know it was me who told you. They already know I’m here, I don’t doubt it. If I return with Svengallop then there’s a chance to maintain my cover and meet with the Grandmaster. That’s the better option!”

Twilight’s brows arched together as her mouth went flat. “Sunset, you don’t need to return. You’ve done enough. You can help us interrogate Svengallop instead.” 

“But Twilight—” Sunset started to speak, then stopped herself. How could Twilight not want the Grandmaster most of all? Sunset didn’t understand.

Then, Twilight asked a terrible question. “I don’t want to suggest anything, Sunset. But why are you so dead set on freeing Svengallop?”

A little hurt, Sunset took a step back. “I’m helping you, Twilight,” she said with a softness she hadn’t meant. “You’re not seeing this clearly. Maybe I haven’t been clear enough. This is the only way. Waiting around to see if the Grandmaster can or cannot perform the ritual isn’t an option. Look at Starlight. Look at me! We didn’t wait, Twilight. We found another way. I can’t let that happen now! I’m taking Svengallop, and I’ll stop this ritual no matter what.”

Once again, Moondancer stood in the way. “Twilight has the final say, and she said no.”

“And Twilight is wrong,” Sunset replied before gritting her teeth.

“Excuse you!” Moondancer snarled.

“No. Excuse you, teacher’s pet,” Sunset snarled back. “I’ve seen magic out of control quite a few times now. There’s nothing worse than allowing it to fall in the wrong hands—hooves—whatever! Out of my way! I’m going to help Twilight, even if that means I have to go against her.”

“Sunset. That’s reassuring, but I insist.” Twilight teleported in between the two. “This has gone far enough. We can talk about this more, but I can’t allow you to take Svengallop. Tirek is locked up in a room nearby with Spike guarding the door. If Svengallop tries to escape, Spike’s got the authority to release Tirek. I cannot let Svengallop go. What the society has done, what it plans to do, it’s far worse than anything we’ve dealt with before. Even losing Tirek would be less worrisome!”

Sunset tilted her head and raised a brow as though she didn’t understand. But she did understand. She understood exactly what Twilight said—but she wanted to hear it straight. “Are you saying that if I release Svengallop, you’ll have Tirek take away my magic?”

“No? No!” Twilight stammered. “I mean—”

“No?” Moondancer repeated. “That’s absolutely what it means, Twilight! Someone from the society is here to rescue their Master. No matter who they are, we release Tirek.”

“That was more for some dunderheads like Flim or Flam,” Twilight argued. “Not a friend!”

Sunset countered, “What about Minuette?”

Both Moondancer and Twilight went silent. Their eyes suddenly pierced Sunset with resentment. “What did you just say?” Moondancer asked, almost growling the words. “You have no right! How dare you! Twilight! Twilight, are you really going to allow that!?”

No longer able to stay seated at the table, Starlight pushed herself in between the group. “Everypony calm down. If I have to be the naysayer, then so be it. Twilight’s been wrong before. She was wrong about the Pony of Shadows. She was blinded by her admiration for Star Swirl. Twilight, maybe bringing Sunset from beyond the mirror was your way of preventing a mistake like that.”

Twilight shook her head at Starlight but slowed to a stop. A hard line formed her mouth as she stepped out from between Sunset and Moondancer. “Maybe. I’m not sure. Both plans work. Letting Sunset take Svengallop is enticing. It’d give us a chance to end this now. But keeping him here, arresting Suri and Lightning Dust, that’s the less risky option. It would allow us time to gather more information. It would also allow the Grandmaster time to escape. To go into hiding—I can’t decide.”

“If Twilight brought Sunset in to prevent her mistake—then she brought me in to do the same thing!” Moondancer held her head high. “You said I'm needed. That I am strong. Here’s my strength. Svengallop is staying.” She stared down Sunset. “You’re not taking him anywhere.”

“Alright. Let’s take a vote,” Sunset replied. “All in favor of not letting the society perform a ritual to create an army of unqualified alicorns with extremely powerful magic, raise your hoof.” Everyone in the room raised their hoof. “Then it’s settled. I’ll be taking Svengallop and going.” As she walked past Moondancer, she felt an abrupt push back by a magical force. 

“Nice try. Without Svengallop, no ritual.” Moondancer’s bushy brows pouted. “I’m beginning to think you want the society to succeed. Maybe you’re on board with the ritual and want to bring him back to get it started. How do we know you aren’t the Grandmaster? You kind of sound like her, and I’ve never heard Twilight talk about you before all this started.”

Sunset slammed her horn against Moondancer’s. “That makes two of us. Who exactly are you again? Because Twilight knows me pretty well. I’ve done the whole villain thing and, gotta say, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. But you on the other hoof. Well, the Grandmaster hasn’t shown up once for anything since I joined. Could it be that the Grandmaster has stayed by Twilight’s side this entire time?” She feigned a look of shock.

A wall of magic sprung up, blocking the two. “Girls! That is enough! I invited you both to help me, not fight each other. If I allow you to continue, the society wins no matter what. Sunset, take Svengallop and go,” commanded Twilight. 

“But—” Moondancer tried to interject.

“Moondancer,” Twilight bellowed the name as if it were an order. “I need your help more than ever. If there is some ritual we don’t know about on becoming an alicorn, we have to figure out what it is and how to stop it. Even when Sunset finds out who the Grandmaster is, we might not have a chance to catch her. If she’s powerful, she may escape or fight back. We need to be more than ready. Thanks to Sunset, we now know that the time for that will be upon us shortly. You must be prepared. Starlight, wake the girls. This concerns us all.”

Sunset wanted to hug Twilight. “I knew you’d see it my way.” The scowl on the alicorn’s face sent Sunset reeling back. “Alright. That’s fair. Gloating isn’t cool. Now we know. You could at least tell Rainbow Dash that one of these days.” 

With a sigh, Twilight pointed to a door. “Follow the halls until you come to the door with the lights on. He’s in there. For our sake, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Got it. Thanks.” Sunset turned to the door, but not before meeting eyes with Moondancer. She debated giving a smug smile or a snarky grin, but this didn’t feel like a win. There was no singing, no happy dance at the success. Nothing but the uneasy feeling in the back of Sunset’s mind. The what if she failed. What if the Grandmaster didn’t actually care about Svengallop’s return, and refused to meet with Sunset? 

Without another word, she trotted down the crystal halls. Rain echoed as she found a hall near the outside walls. One room on the inner side still had the lights on, and a sleeping Spike sat a few doors down in Sunset’s path. He didn’t stir at her presence, and she refused to make the same tail-tripping mistake twice.

She made it a point to open the door and enter rump first. She didn’t want to just barge in as if she knew Svengallop was inside. Of course, she did, but acting as though she didn’t would only help her charade. Spike didn’t even stir at the light, and she slowly closed the door without a sound. A voice called out. “Sunset Shimmer?” it questioned. She turned to see a white stallion with light pink hair. “What are you doing here?”

She squinted at him, playing up the façade. She had never seen him before, so it wasn’t hard to act as though she didn’t know he was Svengallop. “Do I know you?” she stammered.

“In a way, you do.” He rose from the single table in the room. There was no other furniture, perhaps to prevent him from using it against Twilight. “You already met two of the Masters, now you know the third. Svengallop,” he greeted with a hoof shake.

“You’re not a unicorn, so I guess that checks out. And you know who I am. But what is a Master doing here?”

With a gruff grunt, he rolled his eyes. “Those halfwits somehow figured out my inclusion in the society. I haven’t the foggiest idea how, but it doesn’t matter. They’ve got nothing out of me, and now that you’re here, they never will.” He then scanned her, looking up and down. “Wait. Why are you here?”

A sneer leapt past her cool demeanor. “That little blue apostate put a spell on me. Last thing I remember is falling asleep outside Cloudsdale after we brought down the city.” Placing a foreleg over her eyes, she pictured Minuette. She almost regretted not telling Twilight it had happened. Almost. “I guess the Cloudsdale citizens found me, or some guards. Since I wore a cloak, they must’ve had me brought here.” She then stomped a foreleg. “I was trying to find my insignia. I’m not even sure where we are,” she lied.

“It’s a good thing you found me. If you kept searching, you might have come across that terrible brute Lord Tirek,” Svengallop mentioned. “We need to get out of here before they’re aware you escaped.”

“I can’t leave without knowing no one else from the society is here,” Sunset replied, turning back to the door. “I’ve checked several rooms, you’re the first I’ve found.” She paused before putting her hoof on the knob.

He sidled in beside her. “It sounds like that friend of the traitor sought you out. You’re probably the only casualty, especially if you haven’t found anyone else. We’ve been careful to not leave anyone behind from these tests. And if the final one was a success, the Grandmaster will want to begin the ritual immediately. Don’t worry about anypony else. She’ll want you there.”

Hiding her grin, Sunset felt pride swim up her head. She knew this was the right choice. She’d meet the Grandmaster and learn her identity. It didn’t matter why the Grandmaster wanted her there. She wouldn’t allow it to be any other way. “Fine.” She turned back to him. “You’re lucky it was me. I can teleport us to Canterlot. If it had been anyone else from the society, you’d be in for a long walk in the rain.”





The ball of flame burst into existence out of thin air. Heat radiated from the creation as a kettle levitated atop the embers. No kindling kept the fire going, only the sheer magical power of the Grandmaster. She stood in front of the large rectangular mirror as the water boiled. With another burst of magic, she created a soundproof barrier along the walls and waited for the whistling. 

A small pump organ in the corner of the room, tucked between limestone walls, bellowed a tune within the magically insulated room. It did not move on its own—the Grandmaster played the keys and the acoustics rang loud. In front of the mirror, she hovered six brushes against her mane as she listened to the deep tones of the instrument. She loved the echoing sound, especially when played by somepony as skilled as herself. Powerful, yet troubled at the same time.

The perfect music to hum along to as she let the brushes do their work. A simple spell of animate objects allowed her to focus. Not on the fire magic, or the levitation, or the soundproof barrier. She didn’t even have to focus on playing the organ.

Her main attention centered on the bright white smile reflecting in the mirror. As the brushes helped fluff her curly, deep-golden locks of hair, she made sure her smile remained pure. Nothing would be out of place for the ritual, not even a single strand of her pale yellow fur. 

When she finished with her mane, she turned to a side view. She stared at her rump; at her cutie mark. She loved her cutie mark. Her long legs and skinny features brought the mark to the forefront of everypony’s vision. They’d wonder what the mark meant. They wondered what her talent could be. But she remained silent on the matter. Only her mother knew. As she stared at the mirror, she glanced to the pictures and notes strung about the frame. 

Auburn Nest was one such photo, albeit younger, standing with a filly of golden hair. They didn’t look alike at all.

The kettle suddenly sounded off, and the Grandmaster levitated a teacup to the spout. The flame disappeared as the organ’s song petered out. She blew off the steam—the one thing she didn’t use magic for. She’d done it this way since she was young. And soon she’d stand atop the tallest balcony in Canterlot Castle, staring out over Equestria, with her favorite tea. 

A knock came to the door. Lifting the sound barrier, the Grandmaster called, “Come in.” She didn’t need to know who. Only the Masters knew the entrance. 

Suri Polomare entered with a bright smile, which she displayed by dropping her hood. The Grandmaster loved this. Seeing such a welcoming sight as the first thing in the morning meant the day would go well. A sign from all the magic in the world. “Good morning! What a good day it is!” Suri said, closing the door behind her. “Sunset Shimmer has returned with Svengallop, and the ritual can finally begin!”

The Grandmaster did not spill or spit out her tea. There was no need to be surprised, in fact. She knew Sunset Shimmer would return. She never had a doubt. And Suri was right—now the ritual could begin. “Very good. Wake the Evokers. Send them to the other capitals. Have them meet us in the destination. It doesn’t matter if they’re secretive or not.” The tea was still hot, but the Grandmaster downed it in one swift motion. She wanted to savor the taste, but there was no more time. Greatness was upon them. “And send her in,” she said, once finished.

Suri bowed, pulled on her hood, and exited. Only a few seconds passed before another knock—but that gave the Grandmaster plenty of time. She infused the room with a spell of her own creation. “Come in,” she once again called. The orange unicorn entered alone, just like she wanted, allowing them to speak informally. “There you are. Such a wonderful girl, so full of magic.” Coming close, the Grandmaster brought out her wide, cheery smile. “Greetings to you, Sunset Shimmer. I am the Grandmaster. But you may call me Faith.”
> Problem Solved
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunset had been nervous a moment ago. Suri Polomare had just pressed her insignia against one of the inner stones of the sanctuary—and much like the outside, this one opened another secret passage to a smaller door with the same golden circle. Sunset could only kick herself for not realizing there might be more than one hidden door, but she doubted her insignia would’ve worked. It didn’t matter anymore. Her nervousness evaporated the moment she laid eyes on the Grandmaster.

The golden mane and pale yellow fur wasn't any more special than anypony else—though her height was noticeable. The tall beauty was a unicorn. Not a secret alicorn. Not a monster in disguise. The only thing about the mare was her prettiness, something Sunset didn’t often think about. She never bothered to compare looks or height before, but this mare made her question such things. Why though? Something about the golden mane made it appear like liquid gold hovering on the mare’s shoulders. It invited Sunset; she wondered what it smelled like. 

Then her eyes snapped to the face—what a terrible smile. Both rows of teeth were as straight as needles, and her lips were so wide the tops of her gums could be seen. Sunset believed those teeth wanted to bite down on her. The mouth said honeyed words, but Sunset couldn’t hear. Her heart rate shot up as sweat coursed down her brow. Her nervousness returned. Why did sweat? What was happening?

Her eyes darted around the room. Only her eyes. She took a moment to swallow her panic. “You’re the Grandmaster?” she asked, though it wasn’t the question she meant.

“I am. But please, call me Faith,” the Grandmaster replied as she trotted toward Sunset—the words were a command. “It’s so good of you to return, Sunset Shimmer. I worried you would’ve been convinced to remain at the princess’s side. I should never have doubted you.”

Sunset immediately noticed how Faith walked. It wasn’t like other ponies. At first, it brought an image of a tree swaying back and forth in the wind. But that wasn’t right—she twisted, bent, and rounded. Faith moved in a way that Sunset could not put her finger on—would that she had fingers. Whatever it was, she didn’t like it, and she did not like Faith. The prettiness of the mare acted like a fancy lure on a fishing hook. A trap. “Of course I returned. I told them nothing. I managed to sneak out before they even knew I was there,” Sunset lied. Even she could tell that her voice didn't sound convincing.

“I certainly doubt that,” Faith replied. She reached Sunset and circled around her, down one side and coming up the other. “I do hope you told them everything. I’d hate it if they didn't meet us. It'll take them a while before they figure it out, but they should arrive just in time for the ritual to be complete. The shock on their faces!”

Sunset couldn’t move to follow Faith, not even her head. Only her eyes jutted in the direction of the mare. “Meet us? I told you, I didn’t tell them anything. Why would they meet us? Where would they meet us?”

Faith stopped in front of Sunset and that terrible smile returned. Every fur on Sunset’s neck shot up straight like dogs' hackles. “Come now, my dear little unicorn. How is it you’re so clever but never foresaw our use of you? Had you not returned, we would have needed to find another for the ritual. You’ll make an excellent conductor.”

“You’re using me? For what?” Sunset spat, a sudden jolt of anger coursed through her body. 

A slow, short tilt of her head allowed a few strands of gold to fall from the curls. Faith’s smile remained. “I guess you’re not a clever pony. What did Celestia ever bother seeing in you?”

Sunset understood. Moondancer had been right, she shouldn’t have returned. And now she knew why her body couldn’t move. She'd struggled with every fiber of her being. Her horn lit and fizzled. Every muscle except for her eyes and mouth remained still. She’d fallen right into their trap. “How’d you figure it out!?”

“Figure out? I knew from the start. We do have members of the royal guard here in the society. Some from the Crystal Empire, some from here in Canterlot. Of course, with all the cloaks, I’m sure you had no way of telling. Almost as though we planned for exactly that.” Faith stifled a chuckle. “Thank you for bringing back Svengallop. I don’t need him anymore, but I did promise to make him an alicorn. He would be a tad sore if he missed out on the grand ceremony. My Masters have done such wonderful work. It would’ve been bothersome to replace them.”

“What are you going to do with me?” Sunset cried.

Faith didn’t answer right away. She tapped her pale yellow cheek lightly and watched as Sunset squirmed. “You have so much magic in you, and you can fit so much more. It’s why we test all the unicorns brought here. Everyone is accepted, don’t you know? It doesn’t matter if they’re not strong. We only need one. One stronger than all the rest. And that one is you.”

As Faith turned, Sunset saw the cutie mark. At first, she thought it nothing more than a golden circle on the pale yellow fur. But a part dipped while another grew, as though a snake were trying to eat its own tail. And Sunset realized it was exactly that. The same mark on all the doors. It’d been in front of everyone since the very beginning. “If that’s the case, no point in fighting it then. I was going to teleport back and have Twilight arrive to arrest you, but bringing you in myself will prevent this little blunder from falling on Moondancer’s ears.”

The slender unicorn stopped and slowly turned to Sunset. Her brows pinched together as she gave a doubtful smile. Sunset tried her best spells to no avail. “Bring me in? Oh, you sweet, pure thing. You don’t understand. You're not the one in control. Let me show you.” As Faith took a step toward Sunset, the world shifted. A portal rippled around them. The limestone walls faded, replaced by crystal glow and light purple stone. 

Behind Faith, Sunset could see it in its full glory. The Tree of Harmony. “Have you ever heard a word, and then the next few days you hear it everywhere? It’s so coincidental, but your mind is hardwired to pick up on patterns. I felt that. One day—drinking tea, reading a book—I felt it. I was reading a copy of the Friendship Journal, published by your royal friend. That’s where I first read the word and it sounded off in my head. Then, the next day, I heard of the Pony of Shadows. That’s when I heard the word again. I heard it everywhere.”

Sunset stared at Faith who appeared brighter than the Tree of Harmony behind her. She struggled to move—Faith’s spell remained, locking her in place. All she could do was listen, and speak. “What was the word?” she asked.

“I’d heard it before, it wasn’t new to my lexicon. I had a very sound education, you see. Not quite as wonderful as your royal friend—or you for that matter. But I am one to keep up with the world. I’d heard of Twilight Sparkle, seen her coronation. It took place in Canterlot, how could I not? And I even heard the word there—though the time between then and the Pillars' return was so long. I never correlated the two.”

Not understanding, Sunset held her tongue for a moment. She couldn’t hold her curiosity for long. “What does this have to do with the Tree of Harmony?” She motioned with her eyes to the tree behind Faith.

“Isn’t it funny?” Faith asked as she turned to face the tree. She took several steps toward the crystal bark. “Thanks to Twilight Sparkle, the Pillars returned. There were headlines and newspapers for weeks about it. They even published the information about their planting of the Tree of Harmony. The Pillars have their own special Elements, even if they don't have gemstones to back it up. So how is it that Star Swirl the Bearded is the Pillar of Sorcery, and yet Twilight Sparkle is the Element of Magic?” she asked. 

She didn’t give Sunset time to answer. “They’re called the Elements of Harmony, in the Tree of Harmony. Yet the Elements and the Pillars are very different indeed—except Star Swirl and Twilight Sparkle. Sorcery and magic, different names for the same thing. But strength and healing certainly don’t match up to kindness or honesty.

“Magic is a very common trait. It’s Twilight Sparkle’s cutie mark, along with her supposed Element. Her friend, Starlight Glimmer, also has a cutie mark for magic. And Moondancer as well. And you. So, if anyone could wield magic like her, then surely anyone can wield her Element.” Faith looked up at the six-pointed star sitting in the tree.

Sunset snapped. “You can’t be serious!” She knew better than anyone what sort of effects an Element in the wrong hands, or hooves, could lead to. “The Elements of Harmony aren’t meant for just anyone to use!”

“Isn’t it funny?” Faith repeated the phrase. “You hear a word, and then you hear it everywhere. Harmony. The Elements of Harmony. The Tree of Harmony. But see, that’s where I think the whole thing falls apart.” Faith turned back to Sunset. “Twilight Sparkle doesn’t wield the Element of Magic. She can’t. It makes no sense for it to be called that. It makes no sense for them to be called the Elements of Harmony, either. It’s one big joke! Don’t you see? Twilight Sparkle is the Element of Harmony. Singular. And these six gemstones are the Elements of Magic.”

“I don’t understand. Whatever you want to call them—do you really expect to wield them? Do you really think you can pluck one off the tree and use it like Twilight? Lifting the sun and moon is one thing—this is on a whole other level.”

“Sunset,” Faith said the name as if she were a teacher scolding a disobedient bully. “Have you not been paying attention? Must I feed you every bread crumb to follow the trail?” The terrible smile returned. “Think about this: Princess Celestia and Princess Luna both wielded the Elements. Three for one, three for the other. We've all heard the legends. Your Twilight Sparkle has even done lectures about it. But did you ever stop and ponder just how Celestia defeated Nightmare Moon? Surely you know the tale. Banished to the moon for a thousand years!”

Sunset gulped. “She used the Elements?”

Faith’s face lit up with glee. “Very good!” She patted Sunset’s head. “But why was she able to control Luna’s Elements? Why didn’t Nightmare Moon use the Elements to banish Celestia? It’s because, like Twilight Sparkle, they both control a very special Element. The Element of Harmony! The one Element—that six-pointed star—to control all the others in the same way she controls her friends. I mean, have you seen them? They get necklaces and she gets a crown. It’s not a coincidence. One to control the others. It is not unlike ourselves. We must have harmony within us to maintain our magic, lest it is thrown wildly out of control.”

“She doesn’t control them!” Sunset snarled. “You’re a fool! They’re her friends!”

“You’re right and you’re wrong. She doesn’t have to control them with words. They believe in her. They believe she can solve all their problems. All they have to do is have—” She paused, pressing a hoof to her cheek. “Faith.”

With a spark of energy, Faith created a bubble surrounding Sunset. Released from her state of suspension, Sunset tackled the circular walls in anger. She found she could still not cast any magic, but that’s when she saw what was preparing. The Society of Secret Sorcery gathered, over sixty strong. All the unicorns were there to help whatever ritual Faith planned.

“I’ve got faith, too,” she told Sunset. “I believe I can create a new Element. The Element of Faith. With it, I will take control of Twilight Sparkle’s Element. I will use my Element to control them all and ascend to a new state. I will grant myself, and my followers, alicornhood. The Pillars put all their magic into creating the seed for this tree. So to create something new, I need a lot of magic. I’ll siphon it straight into one spell, all of it for this tree. That’s why I gathered these ponies. And that’s why I needed somepony strong enough to handle it.”

“You’ll never get away with this!” Sunset shouted.

“Oh, you poor, misguided thing. Unlike you, Sunset Shimmer, I can have everything I want,” Faith replied. Upon hearing those words, Sunset tore at the bubble in a fit of ferocious anger. Her horn exploded in sparks, though no spell could release. Everything in her reeled towards the golden unicorn in a primal fury. She wanted nothing more than to rip Faith straight from reality. “We’re beginning everyone! Remember to smile! This is a glorious day, after all.” 

The Masters sounded the start of the ritual, and the unicorns in the black cloaks stood shoulder to shoulder. All of their magic beams were sent straight for the bubble—straight for Sunset. As the magic passed through her and out her horn, it formed a single ray of light that focused on Faith’s horn. The overwhelming agony of all the magic being pushed through her was too much for Sunset. Too much for anypony to withstand. Her vision darkened into a tunnel, and the cavern echoed with her anguished scream as the ritual began.





Moondancer couldn’t help but feel guilty, and a little justified. It’d already been an hour since Sunset Shimmer departed with Svengallop, and nothing had come of it. The bearers had come. Rainbow Dash was soaked from clearing the raging storm outside, and Rarity was still half asleep. They all seemed uneasy and uncertain. Especially Twilight, who paced in the entrance of her castle where they had all gathered. 

“We could go to Canterlot, maybe use Tirek to sniff Sunset’s cloak. We still have it and her insignia,” Starlight suggested, throwing out ideas.

“For once, the snooty one is right,” Tirek agreed. He stood nearest to Moondancer, which was to say, nowhere close to the bearers. It didn’t surprise Moondancer. They feared him, or resented him, and had not seen his demeanor change over the last few days. “I can track her. She’s a unicorn. It’ll be easier than that earth pony.”

“If you go to Canterlot and they’re not there, we wasted time searching for an empty base,” Applejack reasoned. “If she told y’all to wait, then wait. It’s the middle of the night. They may wait till mornin’. Or they didn’t want to wake their precious Grandmaster.”

“That’s true, Applejack. Though if they are waiting to do it in the morning, going to Canterlot would be the best idea,” Twilight debated. The alicorn's pacing made Moondancer more anxious. “We still have no clear answer on how or where or even why they’re trying to complete this ritual. If they’re not in Canterlot, we have no other leads but Sunset. Moondancer, any thoughts on where they’d go?”

The sudden question surprised Moondancer so much that she choked on nothing. She coughed and gagged before regaining her composure. “Me!?” she questioned, which garnered a sour look from Twilight. “Right. Sorry.”

With an audible gulp, she took a moment to frame her words. “Well, I have a bunch of individual thoughts about what the society wants. I couldn’t wrap my head around why exactly the society would do what they do. Why be secret if you’re going to create an eclipse? Run all these tests?”

Tirek raised his skinny hands and applauded Moondancer. “I was beginning to think you ponies didn’t even realize the oddity of a secret society going public. I certainly noticed it.”

Twilight stopped pacing to shoot a look between the two. “Wait, what are you two talking about?”

“I don’t know why it wasn’t more obvious, but Sunset’s information about what they want made it click in my head. Being secret was their goal, right? To create a society so secret they would never be found by someone as evil as Tirek. But why create an eclipse to show everyone? It didn’t make sense. But if they’re trying to become alicorns, then secrecy is thrown out the window. A sudden sixth alicorn shows up out of nowhere?” Moondancer shook her head. 

“There’s five of them now?” Tirek asked and sneered.

Moondancer ignored Tirek’s question and continued, “You can’t be a secret society without members. Performing the eclipse? That was a big display of magic. Every unicorn would be jumping at the prospect of doing something like that. Using that and these tests, I think it was a way to recruit new members. They wanted as many unicorns to see the potential of coming together.”

“And they would do that… because?” Rainbow Dash wondered.

"To amass a large amount of unicorn magic. Maybe to rival an alicorn? Take all of it and make a single alicorn? Twilight, you were a unicorn who became an alicorn through Celestia, right? Then perhaps they think that lifting the sun and moon—these tests—will strengthen them to match her. Then they can create one alicorn who can create hundreds more.”

“That makes too much sense,” Starlight said. “I’m getting a chill down my spine just thinking about it.”

“I’m not done.” Moondancer remembered the friendship journal. “If they are creating a ritual, I don’t think they’d just settle for doing it in one of their hideouts. The pieces of the puzzle were coming together when we found out the other two Masters. As rude as she was, Sunset was a wealth of information. Revenge is just a means to an end, I think. Maybe they're being used to distract us from what they need. Like, we'll focus on them rather than what the Grandmaster is trying to get.”

Pinkie Pie slammed both hooves into the ground, waking Rarity. “Those no-good, rotten, lowdown meanies! Lying to ponies! Causing all this destruction!”

“Pinkie, please,” Rarity said. “Don’t interrupt her.” She then let her head lax. “Or me.”

“I believe the Grandmaster only sought out those three for information if that's what she did,” Moondancer said. “Suri was in the journal. The key you gained after besting her. You six opened the box from the Tree of Harmony to defeat Tirek. If I was in an outsider's position, I'd correlate that you six have gotten everything from that tree. And the Elements were powerful enough for Celestia to banish Nightmare Moon, and for you to reform her. But if Celestia could use them alone, an alicorn, then a group as powerful as her could too, right?”

Twilight scratched behind her ear and looked around at the faces of the bearers. “I guess?”

“I don't know if what I'm saying is right, Twilight," Moondancer continued. "Them wanting to become alicorns and all the tests combine together in my mind. I'd be a fool to not see that the power to raise the sun and moon is equivalent to wielding the Elements of Harmony. If they could use the Elements, then they'd surely have enough power to create an alicorn." She then paused, blinked, and gaped. "No! That's it! They must think that Celestia used the Elements to turn you into an alicorn!"

"But she didn't—" Twilight tried to reply.

"It doesn't matter how she did it. That's the conclusion I came to by following their trail," Moondancer said, cutting her off. "The pieces of this puzzle click together too perfectly. Even if it's wrong—no, I know it's not wrong."

“That makes sense to me!” Starlight said and trotted to the front door.

Tirek approved as the bearers murmured in agreement. “It sounds to me like you’ve got it solved. All you need to do is temporarily withdraw your little Elements and prevent the society from obtaining them. Hunt them down slowly, and your Equestria is free to frolic once more. And I get my rug.”

“Trying to become alicorns—if they're messing with the Elements of Harmony, they're likely to do more harm with them than any of their tests have done." Twilight nodded. "Forget walking. Everyone come close,” she commanded and included Tirek. “I’m teleporting us to the Tree of Harmony. Good work, Moondancer. I knew I could count on you.”

Moondancer huddled in with the bearers and tried to hide her blushing cheeks. She enjoyed the praise, whether or not she was correct. It kept her warm inside, which vanished and turned as cold as the rain that soaked her to the bone. Twilight had teleported them, but not to the cave where the Tree of Harmony resided. Mud coated the underside of Moondancer's hooves, and Rarity's scream of panic could barely be heard over the sudden boom of thunder. 

They stood in the ravine that once was a river in the Everfree Forest, dark clouds hung far overhead. Ponyville was clear of rain—but the Everfree was a place all its own. “Twilight? You mess up your spell? We’re getting soaked out here!” Pinkie exclaimed.

“No, I aimed correctly,” Twilight replied, and pointed at a small gap in the wall. Moondancer guessed that was the Tree of Harmony's cave. “But I was trying for the inside. I’m not sure what happened.”

They moved quickly as a group toward the distinct gap. The blur of water on her glasses made Moondancer second guess her eyes, but when the bearers gasped, she knew she saw true. The cavern’s entrance had a magical barrier blocking entry. “I was right!” Moondancer beamed happily. “They are here!” she yelled over the rain.

“Then the ritual has started!” Twilight yelled with anger tearing from her throat. She unleashed a ball of energy and sent it sailing into the barrier. The wall took it with ease. She launched another, and the wall ate it without remorse. “Moondancer, Rarity, Starlight. Help me!”

This time, all four summoned their energy and bore into the shielding. All to no avail. Not a scratch. “Seriously!? Who created this?” Twilight scratched her head. "Wait—what am I asking? A group of unicorns created this. We need to come up with a plan," she told the group.

While they stood around discussing ideas, Moondancer created a magical shielding above. The rain already soaked her sweater, but there was no sense in letting it continue—and they thanked her for the reprieve. She removed her glasses and tried to dry them off, but there was little use. She could see without them, though facial expressions were blurry, and she did not want them damaged for what would come next. If anything did come. Rainbow Dash and Applejack kicked and bucked at the barrier as she stuck her glasses into her sweater. 

Though she had gotten them there, Moondancer held no answer on how to bring down the wall. She didn't want her streak of good fortune to be thrown off by a terrible idea that could only waste time. The thought of boring under crossed her mind, or digging from above. But the memory of the stone snake attacking the cloak in Manehattan stunted her from those choices. That was when she remembered their savior.

Fluttershy had interjected just then into Starlight and Twilight's brainstorming. “Maybe we should get Discord?”

Moondancer thought of the name and did not picture the draconequus. Instead, she turned to the centaur who growled the name a moment later. "Discord." It was a bitter sound, barely noticeable above the rain tapping at her magical umbrella. But she had heard it, and now there was no turning her attention from him.

“Just look at it. Look at it.” He wasn’t talking to Moondancer, though for a moment she thought he was. She couldn't help but stare at him. His beady eyes twitched in a mixture of anticipation and anger. “Somehow that little abomination planned it all. Their magic does nothing. Their pony magic does nothing. He knew it had to be me. But why? Why couldn’t he just do it?” He held his hands up, fingers pointed, and then clenched them with a tremble.

“Tirek,” Moondancer whispered his name under the rain. She trotted close and stood beneath him, the shadow of water droplets from her shield dotted his face. With a soft tap against his leg, she garnered his attention. “Did you figure something out?” she asked in a tight voice.

His mouth was a hard line, lacking all the emotion his eyes held. Some of the water that had soaked him dripped down his small horns onto his forehead. With a nod, they fell off him. “I did. More than you know.” He cupped his jaw with his hand, and tightened the grip on his cheeks.

As he walked forward, Twilight called his name, but Moondancer quickly stopped her. “Leave him be,” she said, and the bearers retreated from the barrier. They all stood underneath Moondancer's umbrella and watched him.

“How could he know?” Tirek yelled his question over the rain—though not at the bearers. His fingers pierced the magic wall and moved like he was playing with wet clay. “He’s a fool.” With a ball of magic in his hand, he lifted it into the air and let it drape into his mouth. After swallowing, he sucked on his fingers. “They could’ve eventually gotten inside without me, but perhaps it would take too long. Maybe that’s why I’m here.” He unhinged his jaw and sucked down the barrier’s magic without as much as a breath between. It wasn't even enough to smooth his wrinkles.

The group rushed forward to his side. “You did it, Tirek!” Twilight said. When he turned to them, Moondancer saw the distressed look in his eyes. They were no longer anxious or menacing, only confused, and with how old he already appeared, he looked almost senile. 

“Stealing magic. It's like I was made for it,” he replied, though there was no feeling in the words. They were too vague for Moondancer to comprehend the meaning—maybe even Tirek did not understand what he meant.

“Nice work, Tirek. Now it's time to end this,” Twilight said as she marched forward. Moondancer followed behind at Tirek’s side. She studied him curiously—which he either ignored or failed to notice—before flickering lights and echoing voices drew her attention. Out of the rain and just inside the cave, everyone heard the scream. “Sunset?!” Twilight called as she rushed forward.

As they rounded the corner, at least sixty cloaked ponies met them. “And there's the party crashers. A little earlier than expected,” a pony yelled from the back. A mare, a little taller than the black cloaks, with golden hair and pale yellow fur. She stood next to the Tree of Harmony, and a bubble containing Sunset floated in front of her. "They've come to ruin us, to hinder what you all wanted."

Twilight cried out, “We are not your enemy! We don’t want to hurt you!”

Another wall of magic went up, mimicking the one Tirek had just taken down. It cut a line in the cavern between the cloaked group and the pony by the Tree of Harmony—the bubbled Sunset on the outside. The pony behind the barrier let out a jarring laugh. “Cover your ears, my friends. Do not let falseness into your heart, regardless of the pony speaking them. Look how they cower with Lord Tirek! They'll use him to drain our magic! Why else would they have brought him?” The members of the society moved forward without reservations against that reasoning.

Twilight put up her own barrier, and Moondancer tried her best to reinforce it with her magic. The cloaked unicorns began their assault in that instant—magic bolts and beams splashed against their glowing wall. It held better than Moondancer expected, but she knew it wouldn't matter if they couldn't stop the ritual.

Moondancer wasn't alone in that thought. Starlight yelled a moment later, “Forget the barrier, we've got to stop her!”

“We should get to the Tree of Harmony!” Rainbow Dash called. The pegasus flew to the highest point of Twilight's barrier and looked over the crowd. “It’s not gonna be easy! There’s a lot of them!” A sudden bolt exploded on the shield right in front of Dash. “Hey! Don’t make me come down there and wipe the floor with your cloaked butt!”

“You have to get to the Tree of Harmony!” Moondancer said over the bursts of spells.

Twilight threw a look over her shoulder. “What?”

“I’ll create a distraction to draw their attention. You six get to the Elements of Harmony. Without them, the ritual ends! If protecting them is what we have to do, you six are the only ones who can.” Without a second thought, Moondancer released her magic and focused on a spell. She tried to mimic what she'd seen in Manehattan. A long slender worm bore up from the ground and launched around the cloaked ponies. It wasn't as impressive as the creation inside the society's secret base, but it didn't seem to matter—she was not alone.

“She’s got the right idea.” Starlight unleashed a spell twice as powerful—three dozen stone pillars shot up from the floor straight into the ceiling. A rolling wave of stone and dirt followed and struck against the magical wall brought on by the Grandmaster. Thick motes of dust coated the cave and blinded the cloaked ponies like a smokescreen. "I'll keep the place from collapsing in on us. It's a good thing I know a bit about caves," she said with a wink to Twilight. "We'll distract them together!"

"R-right!" Moondancer felt inadequate comparing herself to the way Starlight moved her magic, almost awestruck at the feat. She stopped her small worm that disorganized the society's members and stepped out from Twilight's barrier—creating her own around herself and Starlight. "You focus on attacking, I'll keep us defended."

"Room for one more?"

Moondancer turned back to the group, smiled, and opened the defensive bubble. “You sure about this, Tirek?” she asked with a glance to Starlight for approval.

“Their leader already made it perfectly clear, and the buffoons in black will target those six twice as much if I'm with them. If these annoyances truly desire to become alicorns as you ponies suggest, I should give those six every opportunity to succeed,” Tirek answered. “After all, who would be a new alicorn’s first target but one that can drain their new power? As much as I dread returning to Tartarus, I'd like to return in one piece."

"Fine," Starlight agreed. "But no draining magic."

“So long as you two lackeys keep me safe, I’ll maintain my role as terror in presence only. But should we get separated, I’ll have no choice but to defend myself. Be sure to not let that happen.” His wrinkly grin pushed his sideburns back. “I’ll bet you two will make me feel the safest I’ve ever felt with that.”

Twilight released her shield and created another around herself and the bearers. "Alright. Thanks, you guys. If we need help at the barrier, I'll find a way to let you know."

Moondancer gave a nod before the two groups broke apart. She, with Starlight and Tirek, jumped into the dust cloud without a second thought. Just as he had assumed, the few cloaked ponies who withstood Starlight's barrage jumped at the chance to take down the Lord Tirek. Spells pushed away the motes of dust and magical blasts struck against Moondancer's barrier. And it was working—they were the target.





The assault of magic had ceased. There was a burst of dirt and stone that rained down on Sunset, but the bubble protected her. She wouldn't have been able to do anything if it hadn't. Colors shifted—the world blurred and unblurred. Eventually, she reached the imaginary surface and gasped for air. Her throat hurt to take it all in, and the screams left her breathless. But the pain had stopped, and she didn’t know why. Delusions crept into her mind. Things that came from her past. An image of a flower with golden petals stood out, and then it transformed into a golden circle. She snapped out of it, though groggily still, and groaned in displeasure of the noise and lights.

She tried to feel steady in the bubble, but her legs couldn’t hold her weight. She rolled to one side and attacked the wall of magic with words, not failing to notice Faith stood on the other side. The Tree of Harmony—or Tree of Magic as Faith called it—was being tugged by the pale yellow unicorn. The branches shook but did not give.

“Come on! I’ve made mine. What’s your problem!? Just let me have them!” Faith cried out at the inlaid gemstones. That’s when Sunset noticed the round gemstone levitating at Faith’s side. Much like the bearers’ Elements, Faith’s false stone was in the shape of her cutie mark—gold, a perfect circle, a creature biting on its own tail. She’d actually done it. Faith had created her own Element. “I’ll rip them out if I have to, tree!” 

“The bearers are on their way, Grandmaster.” It was Lightning Dust, who stood on the outside of the barrier, not so far from Sunset’s bubble. Next to her stood Suri Polomare and Svengallop. “You’ve got your Element. We need to become alicorns before they arrive.”

“Do be a dear and silence yourself,” Faith commanded without yelling. Her eyes burned with red hot intensity. Lightning Dust didn’t hesitate to back down. “Make yourselves useful. Find and distract the bearers. Don’t let them get close. Once I am an alicorn it won't matter if they make it to their Elements.”

The three Masters bowed their heads to their glorious leader. Each of them put on their cloaks to hide their faces, and Sunset followed them with her eyes until they disappeared into the dust cloud. “What happened?” Sunset whispered to herself, surprised by the sight. She’d been so out of it she didn’t even realize there was a battle raging within the cavern. Sunset could see the light and hear the strikes, but the fight had done a number on the cavern. Some of the motes of dust were thinner, and some parts were thicker. She even saw a few pillars of stone and dirt in those thin sections, and the walls of the cavern looked further away.

Then, out from the dusty fog, Saffron showed her face. “Sunset?” She came close to the bubble until she stood beneath. “Are you hurt? I’m so sorry. I refused to give up my magic. I’m sorry I didn’t try to stop them. I can’t believe this all happened.”

Sunset’s whole body shook with a cold chill. The memory of the magic flooding her made her stomach churn. “I-I’m alright. Can you get me out of here?” She looked back at Faith behind the barrier, but the mare wasn’t focused on anything but the tree. The false Element hung suspended next to her. "I can't cast in here."

“I can try. It’s dangerous out here, though.”

“It’s going to be a lot more dangerous when I get my hooves on those Masters,” Sunset replied.

“I’m not so sure you’ll be saying that here in a moment,” Saffron noted as her horn lit with magic.

“Where have I heard that before?” Sunset asked as the bubble popped around her. Saffron caught her on her back, and the two hugged. “Thank you. Now, we need to find Twilight and help her reach the Elements.” Sunset pointed to the golden ring. “We’re all going to be in danger if they don’t stop her.”

Saffron nodded. “Everypony was rushing towards the cave’s entrance, then things got hectic. I got out of the way as best I could. I heard someone mention Lord Tirek." She paused as she shuddered. "It's hard to tell where anybody is—and he may be hiding in the dust."

“I know you might not believe me, but Tirek is on our side. Let's go meet up with Twilight, she can explain everything.” Sunset marched into the fog, right up to a section of broken pillars, and straight down into a trench. The earth had shifted somehow, and she assumed Twilight had done it along with creating a smokescreen.

Saffron trailed behind. “Shouldn’t we put up a barrier?”

“Let's not put attention on ourselves yet. Keep low. Keep silent. Hide in the confusion. I'll keep us protected.” They made their way underneath a flat pillar where the dust had settled and in between two others that jutted straight up into the ceiling. She looked back and saw the worry on Saffron's face. “I know you don’t really know who I am. I’m sorry for lying to you.” Saffron didn’t reply. “I used to be one of Celestia’s apprentices before I made a mockery of her studies and betrayed her trust. Not my proudest moment.”

“I owe Pinkie Pie and Rarity much,” Saffron eventually said. “Had I known I was siding against them, I never would have. I don’t think many here would either. I thought we were protecting Equestria—we've betrayed everyone instead.”

“I'm glad you feel that way, actually. I don't want to hurt any of the other members if I can help it. Except for maybe the Masters. I don't think they'd hesitate to harm us. They've got their cloaks on, so we'll have no idea if we're encountering them or not.” 

Saffron let a short gasp out at that. "You mean you're not mad at the others for contributing to the Grandmaster's plan?"

"Oh, no, I'll demand a few apologies later," Sunset replied, trying to bring levity to the terrible situation. "But that's later. Now we focus on protecting the Elements."

As they ducked and crawled, they came upon three cloaked figures hiding behind uneven ground who waited for their opportunity to strike. The dust settled in patches, and the thick motes grew sparse. The three weren't as hidden as they thought as Sunset found them first. With her magic, the hoods of the cloaks enclosed, blinding the three. She then softened the soil beneath them, sinking their legs until they were stuck. She didn't wait for them to break free before sneaking past with Saffron.

When they were out of earshot, Saffron asked, “Do you think they’ll forgive me? Pinkie Pie and Rarity, I mean."

“I don’t think you need to justify your actions, Saffron. You were lured in by the promise of safety. It was a lie, and you can’t be blamed for that,” Sunset replied as they rounded a corner of pillars. One had been cut in half, and there was a pony at its top shouting down directions. A blast from some unknown source hit that pillar and the pony quickly teleported off, but the crushing stones came toppling down. With a last-second barrier, Sunset protected Saffron and herself. The fog of dust renewed itself around them, upheaved by the crash. "Keep close," she said as she pushed through the cloud and into a trench.

She could see a few paces in both directions, the motes of dust above them. Before they could choose a direction, a voice called out, “Wait! That pony! It’s you!” A stallion slid down from the fogginess on a slope in front of them into their trench. Sunset readied a few spells to deal with him but stopped once he sent out his imagery: balloons.

“Are you here to stop us?” Sunset demanded and did not lower her horn.

“No!” He threw off his hood. A blue stallion with wavy white hair held a big smile. “I’m so excited to be here! I mean, it wasn’t that great when we all shot magic at you and you screamed. But this is awesome! It’s like we’re really defending Equestria! Oh, but who knew it’d be against Princess Twilight? Everyone is so focused on Lord Tirek because they're scared. This is great!”

“Tirek and Twilight aren't our enemies,” Sunset told him. “You do realize we’re about to face a major catastrophe if we don’t help the Elements, right? The Grandmaster duped you!”

“Really?” he replied without any loss of his excited demeanor. “That's awesome!"

Sunset blinked, then turned to Saffron who looked just as bewildered. "Y'know, I guess the Grandmaster wasn't lying," she said. "She really did accept any unicorn."

"Hey! If you guys are going to the group shooting the cool beams, why don't I join you?" the stallion said. "You taught me more than anyone in the society ever did. It'll be fun!"

“This isn’t a game! This is an actual fight!” Saffron chided, and Sunset wanted to berate him too.

Instead, she let it go. More help would be a boon. “You remember what I taught you two about attack and defense, right?” Sunset asked both of them, and they nodded in response. “Alright. You saw Twilight and the others? Lead the way then.”

The stallion whinnied happily as he trotted up a blasted dirt hill. On top, they came face to face with a group of six cowering beneath some strange outcropping of earth. The heat from the beams of magic had cut through the dust and lessened their cover. She could see a strange circular pattern of stone and dirt, which reminded Sunset of a snake, though it wasn't as thick as those pillars that towered over them. When they noticed Sunset and her friends coming down the hill, two broke into a sprint. The other four were unsure whether or not to attack.

“You two attack, I'll defend. We work as a team!” Sunset charged forward and created a barrier surrounding them. Saffron and the stallion wasted no time going on the attack. If she had chosen to go on the offensive, Sunset was unsure if she could let her anger simmer long enough to not seriously hurt the four. With those two, their spells struck and scorched cloaks, but did no real harm other than putting fear in them. Even as the four broke into a sprint away from Sunset and her two pals, they fired feeble blasts and beams backward. Of course, it did not damage to Sunset's shield. She wondered if the magic they'd sent through her had left them with little, or if they had always been so weak. "It doesn't matter anymore," she said to herself.

After the six cloaked ponies retreated, Sunset took the hill. There were three pillars between them and another mound, two stood upright while one leaned. Cloaked ponies were running away with screams of terror. On the other mound, Sunset could see the top of Tirek's head through a shielded sphere. “Is that Tirek?” Saffron asked, having noticed horns as well. “By Celestia, are you certain we’re doing this?”

There was no more hiding. The cloud of dust had settled here, and the camouflage it provided no longer hid the destruction in the cave. The wall of magic, the few dozen pillars—some collapsed, some not—and the cloaked ponies running or charging were all visible. Only hiding behind mounds or in trenches, or behind the occasional pillar, would they get a chance to approach stealthily.

“I'm bringing them to us. Shields up," Sunset decided. She dropped her barrier and focused on the dome opposite them. With a burst of magic, she lifted the ground right up from the mound, tearing it from the earth. Her horn sparked as she weaved them between the pillars like a car in traffic. As it grew closer, she could see it did not hold Twilight. Saffron and the stallion protected Sunset, but both stood in amazement as the floating island came to their hill and settled. "Looks like you could use a lift!" she yelled with a chuckle.

“Sunset Shimmer!” Starlight greeted first, extending her shield to cover the three. “These friends of yours?”

“Yeah, but there’s no time to explain. Where are the girls?” Sunset asked as she eyed up Tirek. She almost sneered at him.

“We’re just the distraction team, they're heading for the Elements,” Moondancer answered. “What happened? Why didn’t you come get us!?”

Sunset wanted to get angry, to say she couldn’t, to explain what Faith had done. But that would’ve meant admitting Moondancer had been right. “We'll talk about it later.” Sunset turned to the stallion and Saffron. “You two stay here and keep the distraction going. I’m going after Twilight! She’ll need my help.”

“You can’t do it alone! There are way more ponies here than during the eclipse,” Moondancer said. “I’m coming with you!” Sunset would've preferred Starlight's company, but she doubted Moondancer's ability to rein in Tirek. She made no objections—and didn't bother thanking Moondancer for the assistance either.





There were very few ponies willing to attack the Princess of Friendship, even after their Grandmaster's goading. It helped that Tirek drew most of their fire—if they could even find Twilight in the dusty cover. Those that did attack found her barrier impenetrable. She refused to let it down for a second, even if it meant crawling at a slower pace than intended. Some of the society’s members picked off pot shots when they came into view. Her fellow bearers moved with her, though they had their own issues. Rarity and Applejack did their best keeping Rainbow Dash locked inside. The pegasus begged to knock some heads together, and Twilight wanted nothing more than to let her. But they were so close.

Starlight's spells had done wonders in wrecking the organized members of the society. The wavy trenches and outcroppings of soil made it easier to navigate beneath the cloud of dust. But it also meant Twilight did not have a clear shot for the barrier. Maneuvering in the cavern made it feel twice the size she remembered—if only due to the now vertical nature of the cave. The pillars were a whole other issue that they had to work around, quite literally. “There!” Pinkie Pie yelled straight into Twilight’s face. “Under there and we can get to the tree!” She pointed to a tilted pillar that barely stood. In front of it were two large piles of pebbles that made her think of autumn leaves in neat heaps. Twilight marched underneath the tilted pillar into the crevice between the pebble piles. She could see how much the cloud had dissipated—the magic wall was visible from ceiling down.

“Wait! That was her!” Rainbow Dash suddenly yelled, and Twilight stopped. Everyone looked up and around. “She flew! She’s the only one!”

“Forget about her, Dash,” Rarity pleaded. “I know how you feel. Trust me, I know. Now is not the time for it.”

“Don’t listen to her, Crash!” a voice rang out from above. “Come on! I wouldn’t mind clobbering you!”

Twilight saw the cloak fall behind them before the blur of the teal pegasus. “Lightning Dust!” Dash shouted and stomped. The vibration trembled beneath their hooves, and it didn’t stop. Darkness shadowed them too late before Twilight noticed the tilted pillar coming down. Her reaction was swift, however, but only to catch it before it struck down on her shield, to which she dropped in the process.

The surprise of the pillar sent the bearers reeling away, and once clear, Twilight teleported herself out from underneath to let it fall. She stood at the wall of magic. They had made it to the Tree of Harmony, but they were not alone. When she turned to find her friends, it was just in time to see Rainbow Dash charging up into the foggy ceiling to get at Lightning Dust. They twisted and twirled before being obscured by a towering pillar.

Rarity and Fluttershy had dived into one pebble pile, while Applejack and Pinkie had climbed atop the other. “Girls! Return to me!” Twilight beckoned. There was no time to focus on past foes. She turned to look at the Grandmaster—she had seen true. A golden circle. A gemstone. No different than the six in the Tree of Harmony.

If her friends had heard her, they surely ignored it. Suri Polomare had appeared from nowhere, kicking at the pebble pile that held Fluttershy and Rarity. “When we’re done, we’ll turn your little Ponyville shop into a flannel design studio!”

“Flannel! It’s summer!” Rarity shrieked. “You monster!” Like Rainbow Dash, Rarity chased after her rival, further separating the group. It didn't help that Fluttershy followed after, though only in a vain attempt to recall Rarity from her wanton path of retribution.

“Applejack! Pinkie!” Twilight yelled to the two on the other pile. “Go get them back here!” They hopped from their pile onto the downed pillar to make their way to Twilight. "I'll tear this wall down and get the Elements, you two make sure everyone is back here by the time I've done it," she told them.

“You sure you're not the Element of Laughter, Twilight Sparkle?” a stallion yelled, garnering their gaze. Svengallop stood on the opposite end of the down pillar. “You're certainly funnier than the joke of a pink pony before you.”

Applejack and Pinkie turned to the stallion. "I knew you wouldn't be far behind!" Applejack yelled. "Tired of playing in the shadows? If you wanted a wrestlin' match, you should've just come down to Sweet Apple Acres. I'd be happy to put some dirt on that blue suit."

"When I'm an alicorn, I'll be happy to tear down that little outhouse you call a home piece by piece!" he barked, and Applejack and Pinkie Pie tore at him. He rushed off with them quickly on his tail, all before Twilight could order them back.

Without her friends, Twilight tried to refocus on what she could do. It was clear the Grandmaster had planned far ahead, using the bearers’ past antagonists as pawns to distract them. "Tear down this wall! You're finished. If you don't, I will—and if I can't, I've found someone who can." She didn't want to use Tirek again, but the golden gemstone levitating by the mare worried Twilight more than she could admit aloud. There was no response from the pale yellow mare.

“You must think you’re so smart,” Twilight said to the wall of magic; to the Grandmaster. The golden-haired mare ignored her or hadn’t heard. “My friends will return, they'll come to their senses as they always have. But what about me?" Twilight gripped the barrier with her magic, ripped at it. The last was stronger, this one could be broken. She wanted nothing more than to shatter it and the mare. "You should have come after me. I think that was your biggest mistake.”

“Didn’t I?” The Grandmaster had heard! “Are you sure about that?” She craned her head back, and Twilight saw the angered smile of teeth bearing down at her.

Just above and to the side of Twilight's head, a magical bolt struck the barrier. Surprised, Twilight turned her magic into creating her own shield. She expected one of the unicorns—but not this one.

“Don’t make me do this, Twilight,” Minuette said. “You can back away. It doesn’t have to be like this.” The blue horn on her head sparked with energy as she readied another blast.

“Minuette,” Twilight mouthed as she dropped her shield. She held her chest, right where her heart sat. The Grandmaster had planned for her! “You know I can’t, Minuette. You know I can't! What she’s doing—it's wrong,” she answered while trying to keep her voice confident.

“She’s doing what Celestia never had the will to do, Twilight!” Minuette exclaimed. “She's going to give us all the power to stand at your side as equals! To help protect Equestria! But you—you wanted to suck up our magic and keep us from becoming like you! You joined Tirek—joined evil!”

Twilight shook her head, sending tears flying. “No! I didn’t! You don't understand. The Elements of Harmony aren't meant to be used for selfish reasons. They'll turn the user into something evil—a demon! I’m trying to stop that from happening. I’m trying to protect everyone, even the Grandmaster, from certain doom!”

"So the Elements can only be used by you? Explain mine then!" the Grandmaster interrupted.

Twilight glanced back at the wall of magic over her shoulder. She saw the unicorn on the other side raise a golden circle that mimicked the cutie mark on her back end. "Y-you created a seventh. How? Tell me how! How are you not some sort of evil creature!?"

“You’re a good pony, Twilight,” Minuette said, and Twilight refocused on her. “It’s why I know you won’t stop me.” The blue horn exploded with a beam of light. As it sailed to Twilight, it was struck off the path by another spell.

With a smooth landing, Sunset jumped to stand in front of Twilight. “But I will—time for a little payback!” Sunset matched blast for blast against Minuette as though it were child’s play. 

“Sunset! You’re here! Oh, thank goodness!” Twilight wanted to hug her but dared not interrupt the bout between unicorns. A sudden yell and threat cut off Sunset’s response. When Twilight turned, she saw Lightning Dust charging down from the ceiling at a wrangled Rainbow Dash. “Moondancer!?”

She was not alone. Rarity, Pinkie, and Fluttershy were on her sides. With Applejack dragging the lassoed Dash, Moondancer led the charge to Twilight's position at the wall. "We figured you could use the help!" Moondancer said as Sunset made her own magical barrier surrounding them. 

The Masters and Minuette charged against the barrier to no avail. “I’ve got them! Work on the wall!” Sunset yelled.

A second later and a terrible growl of words shouted at them. “You’re all so useless!”

The voice came from behind the wall, far louder than Sunset’s shout. Twilight turned to the Grandmaster and expected to be met with the heat of anger in her eyes. Instead, she was met with the hot intensity of a powerful stream of magic. Twilight wasn’t ready for the surprise attack, but she didn’t need to be. Moondancer met the beam with her own.  The section of wall was down—and so long as Moondancer held, it would remain that way. “Go! While it’s open!” Her voice strained the words, and it was clear she wouldn’t be able to last long.

Twilight didn’t need to coerce the bearers into the opening in the Grandmaster’s wall. They were a step ahead of her, ready to end this. “It’s over! You’ve lost!” Twilight yelled as the Grandmaster broke her beam and closed the wall. Moondancer and Sunset remained on the other side.

"You!" the Grandmaster growled as she took a step away from the six. “Lost? Me!? I’ve got my Element! I’ve proven they can be made. You’re nothing special anymore! You’ll be a memory in the minds of Equestria when I’ve accomplished what I want.” The Grandmaster smiled, though the crazed eyes and beads of sweat dripping from her forehead told Twilight it wasn't a happy smile. No matter how powerful the pony, it was clear the Grandmaster was near her limit.

“You won’t be accomplishing anything,” Twilight argued.

“You’ve caused so much damage, I don’t even think Tirek or Discord could’ve matched it!" Rainbow Dash added. "You’ll pay for Cloudsdale, and all the other ponies you’ve affected. Let’s turn her into stone!”

Pinkie stomped her hoof. “You’re super-duper loco! You want to see how the Elements work? We’ll show you how it’s done!”

Twilight used her magic to open the six-pointed star. She pulled out her Element, and the rest, all at once. “Your reign of terror is over. Your false creation can’t stand up to the real thing,” she said.

“What? Is that all it took?” The Grandmaster watched the Elements suddenly float past her. A laugh—shallow and harsh—erupted from her throat. “Had I known I needed you to get the Elements for me, I would’ve invited you myself!” With her magic, she snatched at them. Twilight's alicorn control proved more powerful than the unicorn's—until the golden gemstone lit up, and the six Elements staggered in her magical grip.

“Stop! If you use the Elements for evil, you’ll unleash terrible magic on the world!” Twilight pictured Sunset Shimmer turning into a raging she-demon in the world beyond the mirror. She dared not let that happen twice. While holding onto the Elements, she sent a beam of magic to strike down the fake Element—though it bounced off with little notice. Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy flew up to grab their Elements, but it was too late.

The process started much like it always did. White light glowed and connected between the Elements. This time, it formed a circle, and even connected to the Grandmaster’s false Element. “Yes! Yes!” she yelled, her eyes glowing pure white. “I’ve done it! I’ll be the greatest, most powerful alicorn to ever live! With seven Elements at my disposal, I’ll become a being of purity and grace! This is what having faith does! To believe so hard that even the smallest of chances turn into success!”

A pure beam of rainbow erupted from the Elements of Harmony. Much in the same way it targeted villains in the past, it came down on Twilight and the bearers. But before the rainbow could hit them, it stopped its arch. “Wh-what!?” the Grandmaster gawked. The rainbow went black and broke apart like ash above the bearers. A domino effect ran back up its curve and down to the Grandmaster. “N-no!” she cried as the white light of her eyes became tendrils of darkness.

Twilight went to cast a barrier around her and her friends, but there was no time. The explosion from the erupting Elements was too much, too fast. Everything went white. 

It was unlike anything the Elements had ever done before. Twilight's senses dulled in every sense of the word. Blind, deafened, even mute. She couldn’t think of a word to say, and so she said nothing. Had she lost consciousness? She couldn’t be certain.

Something shook her, but she could neither see nor answer the touch. Had time passed? It felt like an instant, as though seconds were passing. She felt the cold dirt of the cave’s ground on her back. When did she lie down? And her face felt warm, like heat beneath the sun gracing her cheeks. A sudden pull brought her up to her rump, and she felt hooves steady her. “Twilight!” Her name sounded like a distant train horn, but it was there. “Twilight!” It was Moondancer. Had the Grandmaster's wall come down in the blast?

“Are you alright?” It was Applejack. “Speak to us, Twi!”

Twilight motioned to her eyes and her ears in an attempt to get them to understand. When her name continued to be yelled, she tried her best to answer. “I-I can’t see.” She couldn't even hear herself speak the words, or know if she really had. When she said it again, she heard herself and it sounded like a balloon popping. The noise rattled her brain. She covered her ears for a moment and shut her eyes out of pure reflex.

“T-Tirek’s gone. Fluttershy and Starlight are searchin’ after him,” Applejack said. “Lightning Dust is tryin’ to get away. Rainbow Dash and Pinkie are flyin’ after her, though.”

“What happened? The Grandmaster—” Twilight whispered. As she opened her eyes, her vision returned. The blurriness was there, but she found the answer. It hurt to speak and see and hear, but it grew clearer every passing second. The first thing she saw was the light of the sky. It’d been raining when they entered the cave, but there wasn’t a cloud in sight. “Sun. How did we get outside?”

“We’re, uh, technically not,” answered Moondancer. "You've been out for a moment."

Twilight struggled to crane her neck, the motion dizzying. They’d been standing in front of the Tree of Harmony and the Grandmaster, but now neither such things existed. Only the smallest indication of the Tree remained in the form of a stump. And in front of that crystalline stump sat a golden circle—the fake Element. None of the other Elements had survived the explosion. 

“Faith was her name,” Moondancer stated. “Sunset told us. She wanted to create her Element of Harmony and use it to control the others. From there, alicornhood, I guess. I was—I was right, Twilight.”

With her hearing returned to normal, Twilight asked, “Is everyone else alright?” She looked at Moondancer and the unicorn was untouched aside from her lack of glasses. She then looked down at herself, making sure everything was intact. “You said something about Tirek?” Without a scratch on her, she turned to Applejack.

“Yeah. Everyone is okay. You took the biggest portion of that blast, but everyone got a taste. He must’ve escaped during everyone’s stupor,” Applejack answered. “Can’t say I blame him. Seeing this, it definitely ain’t in his favor.” She then pointed to her forehead.

“A-Applejack. Is that what I think it—” Twilight paused as the orange wings expanded behind the golden mane. “You’re a—” She turned to Moondancer.

Moondancer had already pulled up her sweater, her glasses fell on the ground. “We all are, Twilight,” she said, showing off her wings. “In the end, she got what she wanted. The society did the impossible.”





Luna had come and gone. The moon was lowered, the sun had risen—though neither could be seen. Celestia would've liked seeing the beauty of the stars and the orange hues streaking across Canterlot. Yet there was something majestic about the rain in mid-morning. Grey clouds turned every color in Canterlot the same, in different shades. To Celestia, she found it beautiful that everything could become the same under certain conditions. Even listening to the sound of it striking tiles and stone was a pleasant rhythm at such an early hour.

Not that she enjoyed being soaked. The magical umbrella covering her and the balcony suited quite nicely as she stared over grey Canterlot. A teacup sat on the balcony's railing, also covered by Celestia's spell, but she didn't want a sip just yet. She debated bringing Luna back to enjoy the calmness and knew that would only end in her putting Luna to bed. But there was nothing quite like observing the weather.

She almost turned to go back inside for Luna when the pleasantness was cut short like a hot knife through butter. Something—Celestia wasn't quite sure what—erupted in the direction of Ponyville. It didn't stop either. Like a wave, maybe magical, flowed over her. It was fast and strong like ocean waves receding. The clouds were whipped from the sky, and the blueness washed over the world. Celestia was blinded for a moment, startled in seeing the sun.

"The society?" she murmured at first. But the direction had been Ponyville. "Twilight?"

Yet there was nothing wrong. No signs of chaos that had come with the society's spectacles. No tearing of her city. Had something happened only to fail? Ponyville looked the same—Canterlot unchanged. Nothing but the clouds. Celestia removed her magical umbrella, a few droplets landing on her back and head, and grimaced at the sky. She craned her head back to see all corners above her. No clouds. It was certainly more than they had done to Cloudsdale—if this was the society's doing.

If it was near Ponyville then Twilight had to know something, there was little doubt of that. Celestia decided to go inside and grab a scroll and quill. Before she could return, however, the sounds of screams rang out. She rushed back to the balcony's railing and accidentally knocked over her teacup. "There goes another one," she said, not bothering to catch it. Something had happened—those yells came from the castle courtyard. She could see guards forming a group on one of the walkways, yet there was no panic.

The yelling didn't stop, but only moved aside for the addition of laughter. "What's going on down there?" Celestia was about to fly down to find out when a scroll appeared directly in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. "Twilight!" She caught the letter before it fell like the teacup—but did not unravel it. The guards, she saw, all few away. All of the ones in the courtyard. All at once, and some better than others.

They weren't the only ones flying. Ponies came out of their homes, to which she only knew by the sheer amount of pegasi in the sky. And those that flew were carrying items too. Not in their hooves or on their backs. The potted plants, crates, or whatever knickknacks that Celestia could not describe from such a distance all floated. Floated with the pegasi.

A sudden shudder rocked through Celestia, and she turned her focus back to the scroll. With quickness, she unraveled the parchment and saw the single sentence right above Twilight Sparkle's signature.

Five little words read: We have an alicorn problem.