> Esquestria: The House of the Sun - A pony cultist experience
>  by BirdBodhisattva
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> Background and Beginnings
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Equestria! A land of peace and harmony, where any species and everypony can coexist. A place where anyone can find something in which they are truly special, be you an earth pony who tends to the land, a pegasus who tailors the weather or an unicorn who performs great feats of magic for the good of all. And all of that under the benevolent leadership of the alicorns, the princesses of the land, ponies with the gifts of all three races who can move the very sun and moon every day.

That is, as far as you know, what everyone can somewhat agree on when it comes to the nation where you were borne. That is the gist of it, the general idea, the underlying theme based on which everyone lives their lives.



But that's the thing about it, its just an idea isn't it…?



But in all honesty, is that how things really are? How things should be? After all, one does not need to go too far for part of those ideas to reveal themselves as facades.

After all, for example, Equestria is full of dangers (and someponies might even say "horrors") that immediately dispel the notion of safety everyone has grown accustomed to. Great beasts roam the untamed lands, some of which, like Ursa Majors, are the easiest to comprehend, being "simple" (even if unstoppable) monsters of rampaging destruction. But that's not mentioning others that are far more subtle… Some even downright intelligent and malevolent like the Changeling threat, and many, many more.

Likewise, as soon as any one of those things start causing trouble, ponies are almost always helpless to fend for themselves. No pegasus knight or unicorn mage can compete against most of those threats, with only the timely intervention of some sort of hero, or maybe even a Princess, being enough to turn the tides.

Ponies, one needs not think long to realize, are soft, innocent creatures, living in a hostile world and kept safe by a very specific number of individuals.

And yet, they live with honest conviction of the idea that they exist in a peaceful land of magic and harmony.



Idea.



An idea, you have learned, is something very powerful. It can creep into a pony's mind and plant roots that can sometimes reach into the very soul, roots that will shape your very being if they are planted when you are young enough.

Roots that require a great amount of effort to pull out, once you realize they are there, and just how wrong they are.









You wake up in the morning. Today is a very special day, but for some reason the first thing that comes to your mind was how this all began.

It was… years ago. The whole town was abuzz with the latest news, and it would be no exaggeration to say that literal festivities were popping all around at the drop of a horseshoe, parades forming spontaneously on the streets as ecstatic ponies brought out their instruments and joined each other in songs. Food was practically being distributed for free by merchants and bakers, and everywhere one went the repeated cheers could reach even the ears of the most inattentive creature.

"A princess! A new princess has appeared! A pegasus became an alicorn! Hail princess Cadance!"

The story spread like wildfire, and you couldn't help but to overhear bits and pieces of it, slowly forming the bigger picture as you went into a bar. You weren't about to turn down free drinking, after all, especially as you had just left your work after a long day.

Apparently, from what you heard from several ponies around you, a certain pegasus named Cadance had performed some deed. The details on what exactly were a bit confusing, something about a potion and whatnot. But the bottom line was that in the end she turned into an alicorn. Horn appearing in her head and magic coming to her like second nature.

Nopony was really sure of the details. Some insisted that princess Celestia transformed her, while others said it must have been some sort of personal merit or magic, but the most important part was there: a new Princess had presented herself to help rule Equestria. A new all-powerful, immortal alicorn had come to watch over the land alongside the Princess of the Sun.

"But isn't everypony being a bit too hasty about the whole thing? I mean, I hear this Cadence mare is quite young, maybe too young! And besides, is having another Princess really a good thing?"

You were startled out of your drinking, and your innocent eavesdropping from the background chatter, by a mare sitting by your side. It took you a few moments to realize that she was talking directly to you, and not just to herself or the ambient in general.

"What do you mean 'is it really good'?" you asked back, turning to look at the mare, and realizing by the slight blur in your vision that maybe you had a bit more to drink than you should have in such a small amount of time, "she's a Princess now. I mean, look at Princess Celestia, she has ruled Equestria for as long as history goes, and everything is fine. Why would having another Princess be a bad thing?"

The mare looked at you, taking a sip from the mug she was holding, and for some reason gave you a smile. "Well, I asked you if it was something good, you asked me how could it be something bad," she said, with an amused back-and-forward tone, "and it's true that things have been the way they are for a really long time," she took another sip, inching towards you slightly before continuing to talk, "but the point is... is Equestria itself the way it was supposed to be?"

You couldn't help but to raise an eyebrow at that.

The mare sitting right next to you looked normal, a light pink (even if a bit hard-looking and curly) mane against dark red fur, drinking something that might have been just as strong as the drink you were having, sitting in a bar that occasionally erupted into cheers as someone hailed the name "Cadance" or threw bits at the bartender while saying something about serving another round for everypony.

She was a totally unassuming, normal earth pony mare, except for the slight weirdness of what she was saying.

"I mean, we live in a world that is so full of mysteries, so filled with unexplainable things… Is the way that Equestria currently looks like, the way that Princess Celestia keeps it, truly the nature of the world? Or maybe… it is just kept like that through constant effort?"

Her eyes met yours for longer, now, that same pleasant smile on her face. And when she found what she was looking for in your gaze, she began to talk, and her words resonated with whatever it was that she realized was inside you.


What did she see inside you?

[This defines the "aspect" of the cult you will join, which CANNOT be changed without great pains. The cult's philosophy, as well as what it can offer you, will be based on this. Your initial affinity will also be aligned with your cult's, since that is where your initial interest came from, but that can be changed easily as you learn more about the world and pursue the other aspects.]

[ ] She spoke about this world, Equestria, and the many other worlds that ponykind knows to exist, and the secret passages that connect them. Figuratively, when referring to other countries, and literally, speaking about far away realms that most ponies believe to be only fairy tales. (KNOCK is the principle of openings, and of finding hidden passages and portals. It entails secrets that both locksmiths and burglars share, even if they do not realize it.)

[ ] She spoke about knowledge, and about how some realizations can be so shocking that normal ponies might even shy away from trying to discover them. She wondered aloud about how could the ponies of Equestria claim to know so much, and yet not even be able to answer a question as simple as "from where does a Princess comes from?". (LANTERN is the principle of knowledge, and of its light that is both illuminating and unkind. It entails secrets that are held by oracles, even if they do not realize it, and scholars, even if they later regret it.)

[ ] She spoke about change, and its necessity. After all, it is not enough to keep a tool sharp for it to be useful, sometimes it is necessary to smelt it down and forge a new one. And about the fact that, surely, that must also hold true for greater principles. Perhaps even the world itself, no? (FORGE is the principle of transformation, fire and destruction, and of reshaping on all levels, be them physical or spiritual. It hold the secrets that both blacksmiths and rebels share deep down in their cores).

[ ] She spoke about conflict, and about how even in a place as "peaceful" as Equestria it is inevitable. The friendly competition that allows fillies to grow into adulthood, the clashing of interests that occur in daily life, and even combat itself, although Princess Celestia seems to insist on bearing the brunt of that last one on her own shoulders. But what rewards might be reaped from conflict, if it is so natural? (EDGE is the principle of violence and cunning, and of strengthening through confrontation, no matter what shape it takes. Its secrets are shared by soldiers and merchants, and any creature who sees itself as a predator.)

[ ] She spoke about life, and how it inevitably leads to death. About stories, and how they inevitably lead to endings. And how all of that was so very beautiful. But whenever you tried to recall her words, you realized she didn't speak much at all. (WINTER is the principle of endings, cold, beauty and silence. It encompasses all things that have already ended and waits patiently for all things that will end. But one knowledgeable on its ways might figure out how to work around endings, and perhaps death itself.)

[ ] She spoke about life, and its unceasing energy and continuity. About how all creatures, ponies most of all, seem to be dancing a grand dance in pace with the heartbeat of Equestria itself. Neither her words nor her smile stopped for even a moment, and during the whole conversation her hoofs kept beating against her mug. The rhythm was almost hypnotizing. (HEART is the principle of life, preservation and protection, as well as of the dance that must never cease. It is known, even if subconsciously, by any creature that knows happiness and perseverance in the face of adversity, and it is put into practice by dancers.)

[ ] She spoke about how dry and dull Equestria truly was, even if nopony was willing to admit it. About how nothing new is ever created by ponykind, only maintained, and about how the world itself seems to have forgotten about what can be learned from the satisfaction of desire. Your eyes almost didn't leave her while she spoke, to the point where you almost didn't listen to what she was saying. (GRAIL is the principle of desire, seduction and thirst. It knows about all things succulent and treats both charisma and seduction as the most pleasant of tools.)

[ ] She spoke about secrets, about how the world hides its own in the most unusual of ways, and about how those secrets change and transform while the world isn't looking. She didn't talk in circles, but she didn't talk in a straight line either, and at the end of it you were left with the irrevocable impression that something was in the wrong shape. Although you couldn't tell if it was the world, or yourself. (MOTH is the principle of unreason, secrecy and change. It understands chaos by understanding nothing at all and can only be learned by following your own whims. But inevitably, it leads you to where you truly desire to be.)

[ ] She spoke about the history of this world, and how it looks sometimes more like a knot than a straight line, and about how sometimes it even contradicts itself. It is a commonly held belief that the present can go towards many futures, but is it also possible for the present to be connected to many pasts? (SECRET HISTORIES is the principle of the world itself. It is the study and knowledge of the frailty of cause and effect, and of the secret places where more than one possibility took place.)

After that you kept in touch with Copper Secateur, the somewhat unusual mare with which you had spoken on that fateful night. At first it was just the atypical meeting, the normal chit-chat over a hay sandwich that usually marks the beginning of a friendship. But not long after, she invited you to a "party", a small get together with several other ponies, in which you had some very interesting conversations.

Then, another invitation, this time to a much more "selected" group. Only a fraction, you would later realize, of the very same ponies that Copper Secateur had invited to that party. And this time, she spoke freely and in depth about certain things that were wrong with Equestria, and the world at large. The very same things that had peaked your interest on the first time that you had met her.

One of the ponies she had invited left, then and there, and you never heard of him again. But the others, together with you, she later invited to a meeting of a "group" she was part of.
> The Cult
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"Velvet Covers," the newly created player character, is a unicorn Lady noblemare. Happily married, and with one young daughter, she is well read and educated. However, due to a terrible accident in her youth, she is plagued by a debilitating scar on her body, as well as a crippling fear of danger.

In her talks with Copper Secateur, she was initiated into the secrets of MOTH.




You are Lady Velvet Covers, the tall (and some would say gorgeous) unicorn mare that is staring back at you in the mirror. Your slender body covered in light brown fur contrasting beautifully against your white mane that…

That actually needs some caring before you leave, you conclude, reaching for a comb with your magic.

You move around your room with just the slightest bit of care. Stormchaser, your husband, is out of town taking care of family business, and you know that nothing short of you dropping a whole cabinet on the floor will wake up Silky Stream, especially since her room is a whole corridor away.

But still, there is no need for unnecessary noise.

Soon enough your mane is presentable, and you start putting on a discrete dress that had been patiently floating next to you for some time now. One final look at the mirror to double check that your right hindleg is completely covered by the long skirt, and out of your room you go.

You do not exactly have difficulty walking, and you can run if you absolutely have to, but as usual you go down the corridor from the room with the utmost care, even though the floor is covered in rich carpeting. No reason at all to wake up your daughter, after all, as unlikely as that could be.

You whisk past the main hall, which was still empty of servants at this time of the day, and out through the front door you went.









It is somewhat pleasant to go out alone, and although you do notice the appalling gazes that are directed towards you whenever you declared that you will leave unaccompanied, nopony so far has ever really objected to the idea. Not even Stormchaser. So you take your time while you walk to appreciate the morning sun on your fur, the rare silence of a waking city and the pleasant feeling of having only yourself for company.

No accompanying maid, no watchful bodyguard, only yourself.

Until you finally arrive.

Your hoofs take you to a side street in a rather pleasant part of town. The street itself eventually leads to a dead end after another curve and is almost totally empty, save for a few ponies who, just like you, seem to have woken up no more than an hour ago.

Well, it is a holiday after all. Granted that there will be as many ponies partaking in the festivities as there will be those who are working on them, but this is the sort of day that seems to move just a bit more slowly, where things can be taken just a little bit less seriously.

"Well, not for me," you think, as you take one last casual look around you, just to make sure nopony is really paying attention. No matter how discreetly you are clothed or the fact that you are hidden in plain sight, it always pays to be cautious.

You are in a pleasant part of town, mostly an urban area, that is dotted with the small businesses that make life convenient. Bakeries, grocery shops, cafés and other conveniences that thrive by the sheer fact that they are mostly the nearest and most pleasant options.

You walk up to one such shop, an ice cream parlor with a very large "CLOSED" sign hanging from its door, indistinguishable from the other two shops next to it, and go through the unlocked door without a second thought, hastily closing it behind you.

The inside is cold and dark, and although the brief illumination you were allowed had shown that there is nothing but piled up chairs and tables, ready to be carried out when the shop opens, the vague impressions of shadows and silhouettes that they form suggest anything but that. You navigate slowly, already knowing that the direction you should take is generally kept clear, but still not wanting to make a fool of yourself in case it isn't.

Windy Flakes, the unicorn who owns the shop, is known to have a mischievous sense of humor from time to time.

Eventually, you reach the side door that leads to the kitchen, this time completely dark, and once again successfully navigate to the metal portal on the floor, which reminds you of some sort of hatch, the stairs through which descends to the underground storage area.

Although, as you well know, it has been years since that storage had last seen even a single crate or supply of any sort. Well, at least one that carried supplies that could be of use to the shop above, you think while slowly heading downwards.

And as soon as your hoof touches the ground you felt it, like you always do.

A faint gust of wind passes through your mane, even though you know it is impossible for wind to circulate here. You hear a slight… buzzing in your head, though you are sure this place is almost totally silent.

You feel the sensation of dirt under your hoofs, as if you were in the middle of a dark forest, even though you know that if any lights were to be lit you would see that the ground is made of solid stone.

But of course, no light has been lit inside this room in years, not even the slight glow of a unicorn's horn.

A soft smile comes to your face, the unexplainable satisfaction of knowing that right now you are in a place that, even if only slightly, does not exist. A place that no science or magic can explain. A place where the real nature of Equestria is allowed to take form.

"Velvet? I'm so glad that you could make it," you hear a whisper from nearby, that you immediately recognized as Copper Secateur's, "most of the others have arrived during the night."

"Well, you know that I can't be seen going about town during those late hours," you whisper back, allowing your lips to form a light smirk, "has the Master already arrived?"

"Who knows…", you presume that Copper rolled her eyes as she spoke, "for all I know, he never even leaves this place."

Her whispers grow fainter as she talks, and you hear the low sound of hoofs against dirt drifting away in the darkness. Without further ado you follow her deeper into that place.

The buzzing sound inside your head grows louder as the two of you progress, almost imperceptibly.

You know the moment when you arrive at the gathering place, and that is always when you hear the sound of a leaf being crushed underhoof coming from somewhere near. But that only ever happens after you have given up on counting how many steps you have taken so far.

Both you and Copper know that secret, of course. Although you still realize, or at least feel, that you have walked just a bit more than would have been necessary to be on the other side of the street if you were aboveground. Much like how you know that the amount of steps required to leave this place will be far less.

But still, undeniably, you also start hearing the sound of whispering, and hushed conversation, and you know that those are very real. As a matter of fact, this much sound is a lot more than usual, perhaps even the full gathering of the cult is present.

"It makes sense," Copper whispers to you, "the summoning was urgent and specific on the importance of this meeting. It was so unusual that I almost thought it was just some random dream."

You hum in agreement and sit down next to her in that total darkness, talking in whispers almost in a chit-chat manner.

Snap.

Until everyone present hears the sound of a twig breaking, followed by a breeze that is so quick that you wonder if it really felt it. The whispers immediately cease, and although you cannot even see your own snout you are sure that every single face in the gathering has turned to the far end opposite to where you came from.

You hear something clear its throat, and the unmistakable voice of your cult's Master echoes through the room.



"My followers, thank you for gathering in such a short notice. The matter I must discuss with you all is urgent."



Her… his? Their voice is confounding, as always. You cannot pin a specific race or gender to it, and you swear that it changes every meeting, if only slightly, but somehow you always recognize that it belongs to the Master.

Another mystery you do not yet understand, another truth that the world can't explain.

"As you all well know, until now there was little we could do, apart from studying our knowledge and spreading our beliefs. We are powerless to act against the many forces that can suddenly rise against our world. The doors to Equestria are wide open, and any being or Outsider may just barge into it as it sees fit, attracted by the fires of Harmony and magic that the alicorns so zealously stoke."

You hear the sound of pacing, the Master's voice slowly circling around the gathered audience as it speaks.

"Ancient threats like the rampaging Tirek and the deceiving Scorpan, who nearly sucked the life out of the world. Cruel shadows that creep through the hinges of reality. Those, and many others, dating all the way back to Discord, the chaotic god, the first Outsider to enter this world and wreak havoc… But we are powerless to hide, Equestria cannot be hidden as long as it continues to blaze with energy as it does, and we are powerless to do anything about it as long as the abominable alicorns reign and care for the flames."

You hear the hoofsteps nearing you, and you almost think that the Master is looking directly at you when they finally speak.

"We were powerless, that is… a new opportunity has just presented itself. After all, as you all know, not many days ago…"



[ ] The Path Through Nightmares: Princess Luna has just been released from her thousand years banishment. We know that she was the sovereign of dreams as well as guardian of the night, but we also know the path through dreams and other secret places. She is weak and confused from her magical isolation, scars formed from millennia with the beast that possessed her that will not easily heal, and because of that she is the ideal target.

Main objective: Convert Princess Luna to your cause. Bringing a demigoddess to your side will be the final piece for whatever plans you hatch.

Secondary objective: Drive Princess Luna mad, or kill her. Having another alicorn maintaining the current status quo is unacceptable.



[ ] To Hunt the Ascended: The mare named Twilight Sparkle has just reached alicornhood, being crowned Princess of Friendship. But unlike Princess Cadance, who was immediately brought under Celestia's wing, she remains isolated in the town called Ponyville. Despite having a disturbing record of being able to deal with problems, she is also knowledge-hungry and innocent. We will feed her the correct knowledge, and quickly so, for she will not remain the weakest link on the chain for long.

Main objective: Convert Princess Twilight Sparkle to your cause. Her unsurpassed intelligence will be instrumental for enhancing our own understanding about the true nature of this world.

Secondary objective: Completely sever Princess Twilight Sparkle's bond with her friends, or kill her. Having another alicorn maintaining the current status quo is unacceptable.



[ ] To Steal the Seed: The first two alicorns came from another world, which marks them as detestable Outsiders and interferers of this world's true nature. The following two alicorns were ascended, the overpowering flames of the world seeping into them and crowning their very souls. But a final act of abomination has just recently been fulfilled. Princess Flurry Heart, an alicorn, has been naturally borne into this world. But she will remain a filly for many years, and that is also an opportunity…

Main objective: Capture and successfully raise Princess Flurry Heart as one of your own. The alicorns have actively twisted this world since their arrival, but what sorts of wonders might one achieve if it is instead raised under our knowledge?

Secondary objective: Kill Princess Flurry Heart. She is an unacceptable fact that is trying to be wedged into the true nature of this world. And just like an idea, will soon be another nail in the coffin of what this world was supposed to be.









"You will all be summoned, in due time, to perform your tasks," the Master's voice starts to fade, although no hoofsteps can be heard that would mark his leave, "may you all be lost, and found, in the Woods."

And with that, utter silence falls. You suddenly feel as if you were inside a somewhat cramped place, and you have the slightest feeling that you would find a small crowd and bare stone walls should you make your horn glow. But you know better than that, and the feeling of dirt beneath your hoofs reminds you that you are still in a holy place.

Some ponies will probably stay, perhaps waiting until the store opens so as to not attract too much attention when they leave the place. Others perhaps will remain here until night falls again. But you know you have to leave immediately.

After all, you don't just have a life and appearances to keep, you also have much to think about. Especially because, within the cult, you also have the task of…



[ ] Martial – making sure the cult's dealings can run smoothly, by any means necessary. There are a few burly ponies that you may call upon, but you know that by far the most reliable ones are those adept in EDGE.

[ ] Diplomacy – keeping up appearances. Yours might be a tight circle of faithful ponies, but an iron circle is far stronger when linked in a chainmail.

[ ] Stewardship – running the cult's finances. The cult has its resources, and sometimes it is far easier to buy something than to break into a museum and steal it.

[ ] Intrigue – you aren't the only "institution" that mostly operates at night. Avoiding the eternal war between law and crime, while keeping an eye out for potential recruits, is a subtle dance.

[ ] Magic – ensuring your knowledge is properly applied. Somepony has to make sure the circles are properly written, and that the ceremonial knife hits the proper place.

[ ] Learning - keeping the lore. There is so much you do not yet understand, and so many fragments of truth spread around the Equestria, but that makes putting the jigsaw together all the more exciting.



It is not long before you are greeted by a maid, who politely opens the gate for you, having come back to your small estate in…



[ ]  Canterlot – Your estate is literally in the "noble" part of the capital, although still of the "minor" strata that your family is part of, so subtlety will be a must if you are planning on doing suspicious things in person. Here you administer part of your family's several ownings across Equestria, and several other noble families are literally at a stone's throw. Princess Luna, as well as Princess Celestia, are much easier to gain access to. (Low anonymity, great opportunity for interesting contacts, Luna and Celestia)

[ ] Ponyville – You have a rather isolated estate, being the only member of nobility in town, so you need not care much for subtlety when doing things in person. You administer large swathes of land, used for farming, that are owned by your family. The prodigious Twilight Sparkle, Princess Celestia's protege, lives here, but apart from her the town is mostly populated by simple ponies. (High anonymity, low opportunity for interesting contacts, Twilight Sparkle and her friends are here)

[ ] The Crystal Empire – The recently rediscovered Crystal Empire has its own nobles and population, and you are not a part of it. The just-now-unfrozen population is warm to newcomers, though, and quite charming in their own way. Your estate is in a somewhat isolated place, from where you administer your family's trade efforts into the newfound empire, but you will always stick out like a sore hoof by sheer virtue of not being a crystal pony. It is governed by Princess Cadence and her husband, and is (or will be) the birthplace of Princess Flurry Heart. (Medium anonymity and opportunity for interesting contacts, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza and Flurry Heart, if she has already been borne, live here) UNAVAILABLE FOR THE PATH THROUGH NIGHTMARES

[ ] Manehattan – A bustling city, where all sorts of ponies gather and all manners of livelihoods collide. You administer you family's assets from your manor, in the higher well-to-do part of town. There are no princesses here, and all manners of interesting creatures and scoundrels are going about their businesses. But it's the place where you married and had a child, so it feels like home. (Everything is everywhere at once, wildcard option but no alicorns)
> The Mansus / Turn 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



Lady Velvet Covers is the sole noble resident of Ponyville, living in an out-of-the-way (and mostly forgotten) estate beyond the town limits. Her Master has tasked her, and her cult, with acting against Princess Luna.
Velvet Covers is the Loremaster of the Cult, in charge of its "LEARNING" and of furthering the Cult's knowledge.



The gates are closed behind you, the maid who had been waiting for you trotting lightly to catch up to your side as you walk through the garden. The parade of trees that form a path towards the large estate is always a fond sight to behold, and you can spy an earth pony gardener tending to a few overgrown bushes in one of the far corners of the green scenario. The path itself, paved with cleanly cut stones, leads towards the mansion itself, the wide two-storied edifice that gives a clear view to the large swathes of farmlands that your family owns.

But for all the luxury that exists within the mansion, all the servants, and influence, and everything else, you are honestly glad that when you look at it you can think of it simply as "home".

Of course, you could never forget that you are a noble. Your family might not hail from a powerful lineage, but they go to lengths to compensate in everything else, be it political clout or economic might, your position administrating the farmlands east of Ponyville is a proof of that. The mansion you live in is easily larger than the town hall of the city (although not taller, by a slight margin) and several of the simple houses that dot Ponyville could easily fit inside your garden.

But you are thankful that you have never let any of that go up your head. Having lived in Ponyville for several years now, you must admit that a good part of its warmth and kindness has gotten into you. And right now you wouldn't have it any other way.

You walk past the carriage that is always left at your disposal, and that you only ever use grudgingly and at Stormchaser's insistence, and finally arrive at the front door.

"Thank you Ponpon, but I think it's better if I open it", you say, giving a quick wink to your personal maid, "oh, but would you please take this? I'd hate to drop it like that other time…"

Ponpon lets out a short laugh as the bag you had been carrying gently floats towards her, "no problem at all ma'am," she says, taking the handle in her mouth.

Your horn starts glowing once again, the doorknob of the front door answering to your magic at the same time, and you take one last deep breath before opening it.

"Silky Streeeeeam," you let your voice be carried into the main hall, "I'm hooo-!"

"Mommy!" before you can even finish, a blurred dart of brown fur comes zipping down the stairs, flying through the hall and colliding against you in a tight hug. You're nearly thrown back by her speed, and your hindleg makes you wince at the sudden effort with a sharp pain.

"Mommy! You're back!" but all of that mellows out and disappears as soon as you hug your daughter back, "I was waiting for you so we could have breakfast together, but Soft Sweeps wouldn't tell me where you went!" she continues talking, with all that energy that shouldn't even be able to fit in such a small body.

You ruffle her mane, purple like her father's, and gently let go, "well I was going to wake you up to come with me," you say as you walk into the house, your daughter trailing after you in a mix of prancing and flight bursts, "but you just wouldn't wake up! I shook you and shook you, but you were sleeping like a stone, so I had to leave without you" you make up the story as you go, saying it with as much of a dramatic voice as you could without grinning too much.

"What? No I wasn't! I promise I didn't stay up after bedtime," she says, her prance stopping, eyes wide in a sudden panic.

Of course you immediately know she did, with a reaction like that.

"Of course you didn't," you ruffle her mane again and conveniently turn your head away, hearing a clumsily hidden sigh of relief shortly after, "and that's why I brought us a little something". You turn to Ponpon, who was still dutifully accompanying you, and gently float the bag that she was holding towards Silky Stream. And whatever sort of dread she was feeling from being caught doing something was immediately replaced with glee when you dangled the bagged boxes of ice cream in front of her.

You're sure Windy Flakes wouldn't mind a few less boxes of it, and you did leave payment in the counter.

"Yay! Can we have it for breakfast? Can we? Can we?!"

You laugh at the beaming filly, thinking you can almost see light coming out of her hopeful eyes.

And you almost consider saying yes to her request.









It was a long day, a long holiday that is. Stormchaser will still be away for a few more days, so it had been up to you to chaperone a hyperactive pegasus filly, and once again you were reminded of how thankful you are for your husband having wings. Soft Sweeps in also a pegasus, having been picked as Silky Stream's caretaker mostly for that reason, but you made sure to dismiss the servants for the day after a while. Most of them were from Ponyville after all, and it wouldn't do to have them work on a festive day.

On a side note, you did wonder how much more of a handful your daughter would be if Stormchaser was an earth pony or a unicorn…

Still, you think while you try to get onto the bed with a completely stiff leg, at least you do know that you will fall asleep almost instantly. In the end you manage to compromise between awkwardly pushing yourself with magic and hoping that the covers you're pulling won't just give out on your exhausted self, although you have the dreadful impression that they will, until you manage to get most of your body onto the comfort of your bed.

Why the hell do expensive mattresses need to be so damn tall…?



But true to your word, you quickly fall asleep.



Until you realize you didn't. Or rather, you did, but you are still awake.

You rub your eyes and look around, immediately recognizing where you are. You have visited this place, before, but always under certain special circumstances, only after you have made some prior preparations.

Never like this, unannounced, unprepared.

Summoned.

You find yourself in the middle of a crossroad, under the pale light of the moon. The crossroad itself is made of some dark-blue stone, paved unevenly in a way that could be footsteps of some many-legged creature. You can see well enough, and although you can't see too far you can make out shapes in the horizon.

A great chain of mountains seems to be in the far, far distance. You can see their silhouettes but no path that leads to them, for although it looks like you are in a plane that stretches on forever, you still feel like the world somehow curves before it actually reaches the mountains.

You look up and see no stars, only the moon. And when you look behind you, another familiar sight greets you.

A great dark wood stretches on and on before you, and more than a few of the dark-blue stone paths lead to it. The forest seems dark and uninviting, almost oppressive, but you feel no sort of fear when facing it. Almost as if its oppressiveness is a part of its nature, and the forest itself could not exist in any other way. Besides, you have already walked those woods a few times and you know that its darkness can sometimes even be welcoming. If not to you, then to some deeper part of yourself.

And above and within the Woods you see the place that you know to be the Mansus.

A great structure floats above the dark forest. The only way you can describe it is as floating, for you see no pillars sustaining it, only a maddening criss-cross of stairs that seem to connect odd platforms and entire floors, or that sometimes lead nowhere at all. There are no walls to speak of, and yet you can see doors that led into closed-off rooms. There is no real shape that gives order to it, and yet your mind can see that it has the form of something like a house, or maybe a pyramid.

And at the very top of that great structure, or perhaps at its center, it's hard to know, there is a great brilliant… Thing, which is neither a star nor a lamp, but still shares kinship with them. It shines at every single floor of the Mansus, its light reaches every single room and platform, although you swear that some of those rooms and floors should block the light and stop it from reaching the ones beneath them.

You are far away from that light, and it can't truly reach you from where you are, but you know that the light is utterly magnificent, and that its name is Glory.



The sound of rustling bushes comes from somewhere near you,
though you can't see any and the Woods are still somewhat far. Shaking your head a bit, you decide not to look at the Glory anymore.



Besides, the rustling bushes definitely sounded impatient, you think to yourself as you start walking down the path.

Soon enough there is no path to follow any more, the dark-blue stones being covered by overgrown roots. But that is fine, because you know that paths are completely useless inside this place. The sound of insect wings keep growing louder and louder as you walk, and is soon joined by the noise of scissors shearing at leaves, and the sensation of branches reaching for your mane, and the pointed impression that your tail is in the wrong place, and the sheer freedom that comes from being lost and-



The sound of rustling bushes once again make you snap into attention.



You shake your head once more and head towards the source of the sound, before you forget the direction it came from and the Woods start to pull at your attention again.

The Woods have no defined path, but you somehow know where to go once you set your mind on it. And you set your mind on arriving where you were summoned.

A small clearing opens before you, the light of the moon coming almost as a glare after you spent so much time seeing it as nothing but soft whispers blocked by the leaves of dark trees. You think you are alone in the clearing, until five more figures emerge from the trees almost at the same time as you do, Copper Sicateur and Windy Flakes being two of them. Each of you came from a different direction, and you realize that the six of you have inadvertently formed a circle. A quick look at the five other ponies reveal that you all know each other, and that you all know what this meeting means.

Snap.

You hear the sound of a twig breaking, and the buzzing from the forest seems to grow just a bit louder. But all of that is drowned out by the voice that comes from every direction.



"It is beautiful, isn't it?"



You look at the five other ponies, who seem just as unsure on what to do as you, and you wordlessly sit around in a circle, all of you facing outwards. A few more silent moments pass before your cult's Master's voice comes again.

"Eternity exists in here. Eternal change… eternal darkness, bathed in moonlight… And this eternity was far more common, in fact, a long, long time ago…" you almost involuntarily raise your eyebrows. Is the Master's voice almost sounding like he is… saddened?

"A long time ago the Woods could stretch much farther than it does today… It could stretch out of dreams and into the Wake, and reach far away from the holy places like the one where we gather… But that is no longer possible in this age, not in such great scale..." the voice seems to take a harder tone as it continues, an angrier tone, "not while the fires burn, not while the world blazes with light."

A twig snaps, and you nearly jump at the suddenness of it. Not because it frightened you, but because the sound came exactly from the middle of the circle. And although you know that there will be nothing there if you turn around, you can still hear the Master's voice coming from right behind you.

"We will change that, my followers. It is still possible to expand the Woods into the Wake, and to make Equestria safe once again, hidden away by its shadows. But for that to happen… there is much to be done."

At that, a shadow appears in the corner of your vision, and you know that you will see the Master if you just look a bit more to your side. But you don't, shutting your eyes tightly instead.

You can hear the Master whisper into your ears, and for some reason you can also hear the whispers to everypony else's ears.



"Comet Feet," the whispers went to the large and gruff pegasus to which you have rarely spoken to, "our followers need to be made ready, for they will sure be needed. Share your knowledge of Edge with our most loyal, and see to it that they have the required tools."

"Starry Dancer," the whispers went to the pink pegasus mare that was sitting opposite to you, "we must ensure that we are in the good graces of our current hosts. Gain the ears of the rulers of Ponyville, so that we might more easily sway them in the future."

"Copper Secateur," the whispers went to the dark red mare that you know well, "gather more followers among the simple minded, and bolster our numbers. But do not yet tread in the way of Starry Dancer's efforts."

"Windy Flakes," the whisper went to the light maned unicorn, who always seemed to have a smirk on his face, "the Wake has its rules, and we must master them. Expand out holdings, build a place where we may more easily gather, and plant the seeds that we may later reap as riches, for we will surely need them."

"Jade Whistle," the whispers went to the aloof-looking earth pony that you have only ever seen in passing, "prepare our cadre and study what components and instruments might be of use, for we will soon need to call upon greater powers."

"And Velvet Covers…" the whispers caressed your ears in an almost tickling manner, "the one we aim for is indeed very great, but like any grand castle there are many avenues to reach it. Look for a way that we might strike at her, search for a path that leads to her. Lead the way and draw the plan, so that our followers might follow your hoofsteps and enact them. But be mindful that you prepare yourself first, armed with knowledge and lore, lest you are not sufficiently prepared and become lost to us."



All of the whispers happened simultaneously and lasted the same amount of time. When they finish, however, you wonder if they were all as equally detailed as yours, or if perhaps it was an idea that was whispered to you, and you simply overheard the diminished echoes of the ideas that he gave to the others.

But as you wonder that, you realize that the presence behind you is gone, and you stand up together with your fellow ponies.

The six of you look into each other's eyes, and for some reason you simply know that you will all reconvene in two months' time, though you have no idea how you shared in that knowledge.

And with that same wordless agreement, you turn around and head back into the forest, hearing the crunching of leaves and the rustling of wood that indicates the other ponies did the same.
> Turn 1 - Results
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



Throughout the month, you have decided to look around the Mansus for a path towards the fabled Dreamlands, in hopes of finding Princess Luna. Even if only from a distance.
And back in the Wake, the living world, you decided to search for books, artifacts, and maybe new acquaintances.




"… and much like I've written to you about this before, I will say it again. If you're going to deny my granddaughter the best possible education, and instead decide to have her raised as some backwater hillbilly then I assur-"



!!!


You rip the letter apart, not being able to read another single word from it. The paper glows in answer to your horn as you shred it in half again, and again, and again until its little more than a small pile of dull-looking confetti.

"Sweetheart, are you… oh, letter from Velvet Hill?" you hear your husband ask, cautiously, as he sees the offending pile of shredded letter float towards the trash bin.

"Yes Storm, dad sent me another one of his… pointed letters," you answer with a scowl, trying not to think about it and instead floating a comb towards your mane, and concentrating very hard on it.

But Stormchaser doesn't answer, of course. Instead you can feel his patient gaze on your back even as you try your hardest not to picture the expression you know he is wearing, that partly calm, partly worried look he has whenever he thinks you are…

You sigh, abandoning the doomed effort at your mane and turning towards him who is sitting patiently at the bed, morning sun slowly rising on the open window behind him.

"He just wrote that…" you start, and stop, the words stuck in your throat.

"Is it about today?" he asks gently, confirming his suspicions as soon as you cover your face with your hoofs and let out a second, longer, exasperated sigh.

"Yes, it was about today. Of course it was about today, and he might keep sending those sorts of letters every chance he gets from now on! But that's not the problem…" you say, your voice slowly going from stressed to honestly worried. "I mean… what if he is right? What if we really shouldn't be doing this and…"

You trail off as your hoofs leave your face, and you realize Stormchaser had gently taken them on his.

"Sweetheart we've been through this already," he says with a soft smile, "we can't all move to Canterlot, and we absolutely won't go with their 'suggestion' of her moving in with them."

You only realize you were gazing at the floor when he slowly raises your chin, looking you in the eyes with that optimistic smile of his.

"And besides, Ponyville is a great place isn't it? You're the one who convinced me about this in the first place. Silky Stream will be able to grow up happily here, no matter what, so you shouldn't worry about today."

A small smile slowly forms in your face, and you inch forward slightly until both your noses touch.

"Thanks…" you say, with a final sigh of honest relief, "you're right dear, everything will turn out allr-"

"Mom! Dad! Wake up! Lets go, lets go!"

You choke mid-sentence, and the two of you jump up as the topic of your conversation bursts into the room with the intensity of a small brown hurricane.

"Cmon, you promised! I already got up, and have my bag, and brushed my mane, and-!"

"Terribly sorry Mrs. Velvet, she just flew off and I-"

Your hindleg winces in pain at the sudden jump, but you nearly don't notice it, the chaos of Silky Stream trying to pull her father out of the room by the neck, and of a flustered Soft Sweeps apologizing profusely from the door, being too much for you to handle at once.

Stormchaser gives you a short laugh and a wink, before allowing himself to be dragged away by the filly. And you can see by both of your smiles that all your worries have vanished away.









"Dear, are you sure you wouldn't have preferred to come by carriage?", Stormchaser asks you the same question for the tenth time in a hushed tone, repeating the same whispered back and forth the two of you have been at since you left the estate.

"We are not taking Silky Stream to her first day in school in that blasted chariot."

"But there's still the trip back home and…" he looks towards your flank with a pained expression, making you roll your eyes at him.

"I'm not just some defenseless mare who cant even walk for…" you stop whispering, noticing for the first time that someone has been rather quiet for a while now.

The definite lack of a brown blur zipping around in your peripheral vision also tells you that something quite unusual is going on.

"Silky? Is everything okay?" you ask her, seeing that she is standing still in front of the two of you, almost frozen in place.

But of course, you chide yourself, you've been arguing with Stormchaser for so long you didn't even realize the three of you have already arrived. The Ponyville Schoolhouse stands in front of you, white picket fence with its gates wide open. The building itself has an adorable charm to it, and although it does look a bit small it is immediately obvious that the place is extremely well kept. Perhaps "lovingly so" would be a more proper way to describe it.

And besides, you had already done a bit of "research" on it. A short letter to the EEA had the school's curriculum delivered to your desk, which you read through a few weeks back, and a few words with your accountant had him subtly check that all of the school's finances were in good order.

You made absolute sure that you weren't enrolling your little filly into a whatever-someplace.

"Mom, dad…?" Silky Stream turns to face the two of you, her voice small, "can't we just... uhm…" she scrapes a hoof weakly on the ground as she tries to find her words.

"Oh, you're not about to back down on us, are you Silky?" Stormchaser scoops her up with his wings and puts her on his back before you even think of what to say, "I told you before, this will be an adventure! And think about the good side of it, you'll make new friends, no more boring tutors at home, and-"

"Maybe just a few boring tutors," you chime in, causing the two of them to shoot a grumpy expression at you, "but a lot less!", you quickly complement your saying, "and only if you fall behind on a subject."

Your husband lets out a short chuckle, and trots towards the school with a few short leaps, causing Silky to bounce on his back and start giggling.

He finally lets go of her when the three of you arrive at the school's door proper, and right on time for it to be opened by a dark-pink mare, who looks at you with a surprised expression until her eyes fall on the giggling Silky Stream, causing her to give an understanding nod.

"Good morning, I'm Cheerilee, a teacher of this school. And you must be Silky Stream, how nice to meet you!" the mare says with a kind smile.

You see the option of hiding behind her father's leg flashing through your daughter's face, but you beam at yourself when she decides not to, and instead greets her future teacher back in a shy manner.

"And you must be Mrs. Velvet and Mr. Stormchaser? Thank you so much for bringing in your daughter, I'm sure she will get along wonderfully well with our other students," she says, inviting you into the school as she talked, "but I have to admit that it was quite unusual to receive an admission by mail, and I don't quite recall ever seeing any of you around town. Have you just moved into Ponyville?"

"Oh, actually we are-"

"We work from home!" you interrupt Stormchaser, "I work from home, that is. My husband travels a lot," you say with a smile, making Stormchaser shoot you an interrogative expression as soon as Cheerilee turns her back.

"Oh, I see," she sets about, walking around the classroom and making some small final preparations while she talks, "well, Ponyville is a big place after all. And I don't mean to pry, but I think I recall that your address was at the east side of town, so it's a bit far from where I usually go."

"Yes, we live in a farmhouse over that part," you answer with a smile, and Stormchaser gives you another, more aggravated, curious stare.

"Really? How wonderful! We have another filly here whose family also has a farm," Cheerilee says almost to herself as she finishes laying a few books over her desk, "oh I can already see her and your daughter becoming the best of friends!"

"I really hope that happens as well," you share in her excitement.

"Well," Stormchaser chimes in, "it was a pleasure meeting you Miss Cheerilee. And just so you know, we will be taking our daughter home today, but starting tomorrow she will be brought here by one of our maid-"

"Mare!" you cut him off, almost facepalming at his denseness, "our mare friend Soft Sweeps. Who is a friend of the family and helps us with our daughter while we are working," you almost growl the last three words at your husband, who (apparently) finally gets what you are doing. Or at least seems sufficiently intimidated to stop talking.

"Very well," the smiling Cheerilee, who thankfully didn't seem to have noticed the exchange between you and Stormchaser, answers with a clap of her hoofs. "I'll be looking forward to this year then, and it was a pleasure to meet you two parents!"

You exchange a few more words before the school bell rings, and you quickly take your leave, dutifully warned by Cheerilee that the two of you would risk being overrun by a stampede of foals if you stayed.



After leaving the school, you are finally positive that this has been the correct decision. To hell with your family's letters. Cheerilee seems to be a wonderful teacher, and if all went well your daughter would make friends with everypony, something that you decidedly know that she lacks, especially since she had been taught by home tutors her whole life.

And for all of that to happen, there is no need for anypony to know if she is from a noble family or not, and there is absolutely no need for any kind of special treatment to keep her from experimenting anything she wants to do. You are going to make sure that Silky Stream has as happy a time as possible.









[Rolling encounter…]

[Oh wow]

[Rolling the 1d6 then…]



It's a beautiful day outside.

When was the last time you noticed that…?

"No, not like that", you think to yourself. There have been several beautiful days, the weather department of Ponyville is wonderful, and you're not in a contemplative mood or anything.

No, what you're wondering is when was the last time you simply looked out through the window and realized it is a beautiful day, specifically because you have absolutely nothing better to do?

You don't remember, that's the answer. For the longest time moments like this, days like these, have come and passed you by while you were busy. It was either catching up with some sort of work, maybe visiting the surrounding farms and plantations for some closer sort of inspection, or taking care of Silky Stream because she was too young. Well, even recently after she started to fly you'd spend days like these watching her learn how to fly better with her father.

But now, for the first time in what seems to be forever, you actually have time that is not only free, but that you also have no idea what to do with. Your husband is busy, your daughter is at a school picnic that she begged you to sign the permission papers for (not that you wouldn't sign them to begin with…), and you are…

Here. Looking out through the window.

Well then, taking a breather for a day is fine. But you must admit that recently you've been having certain… yearnings. But you push the memories of your dreams aside, now was not the appropriate time for that.

However, much as you aren't about to perform certain preparations and go for an afternoon nap into the Woods, you can do something else that you haven't done in a long while. At least not for "no reason", that is.

"May I help you with anything, ma'am?" you hear Ponpon's voice coming from your room's door, dressed in her maid uniform and with a feather duster on her mouth.

"Nothing in particular, thank you," you answer, eyeing two of your more discreet dresses that you have floating in front of you, "just going out for a walk."

"Very well ma'am. Shall I have your carriage ready?" she asks, her face serious. Shortly after, and as if on cue, the two of you laugh for a few moments. "Have a good day ma'am, enjoy your walk," the mare says before going back to her duties.

You settle for the yellow one, make sure it's properly covering your right hindleg, and set out to the front door.





It's peculiar, the sort of things you can usually miss when you're worried about something else.

Your husband (albeit reluctantly) and your house servants are used to you "going out for a walk" every now and then. But what they don't know is that those are not really leisure strolls, quite on the contrary. During those walks you're mostly concerned about remaining inconspicuous, with the use of a few tricks here and there that help you stick to the shadows just a little bit better, or remain hidden in plain sight for just a bit longer. So you don't quite have the calm and tranquility to notice how wide and inviting the streets are, or how some houses aren't properly "connected" in rows like in Canterlot, how each individual building seems to have a certain charm to it.

Besides, you're usually out through the front door as soon as the sun appears in the horizon, when it comes to that sort of business, both because the cult's meetings are near the darker times of the day, and because the morning sun makes for much longer shadows. You don't actually remember the last time you went out and it was properly afternoon.

So this is being a pleasant experience all on its own. Like hearing a secret from someone you already know, or realizing that the flowers in your garden also have a sweet smell when you just used to look at them before.

Speaking of which, you think as you stop to smell the flowers in a park, Ponyville really lives up to its earth pony legacy.

"Oh my, what have we here? I do love the idea of it, darling, but I think it would look a lot better in blue. It would have more of a modern feeling to it."

You freeze up for a moment, realizing there is somepony right behind you, and apparently talking to you. Recollecting yourself after a moment, you turn around.

"Pardon me?"

And you see a white-colored mare, well cared purple mane waving around her horn. She seems to be looking at your dress quite intently, with both an analytical gaze and a small smile that told you she meant what she was saying.

"Your dress, darling", she looks up from the dress, her azure eyes staring at yours, "the quality of it is marvelous, and the stitching is impeccable… I must say, you didn't buy this here in Ponyville, did you?"

"I think it was in Canterlot, but I'm not sure" you answer honestly, after all you have quite a few dresses...

"But of course, it has Canterlot written all over it!" she says with an elegant nod of approval, "Although..."

She circles around you, her courteous approval slowly turning into a more troubled expression as she takes in the sight of you from a few more angles.

"Although?" you ask curiously.

"Well, the dress itself is very well made, but it just doesn't do to you!" she says as she finishes walking, still looking at your dress as if she was piecing together a puzzle. "Why, a mare of your appearance and looks deserves something that highlights far more of your qualities… And this dress seems to do quite the opposite."

You can't help but to feel amused as she mumbles to herself, something about a style of cut and a complicated word that sounded like a designer's name. And she does sound extremely serious about it, as well, both on the dress part and on the way she complimented you.

"Well," she looks back to you, nodding as if she has arrived at a conclusion, "while this is most surely not a fashion emergency, by all means I'd love it if you accompanied me back to my boutique. I'm sure we can do something about it that will turn out marvelous. I'm Rarity by the way, pleased to meet you," she says, lowering her head with something akin to a small curtsy.

"Velvet Covers," you say back, a small smile coming to your lips as you answer to her refined mannerism with a curtsy of your own, "and the pleasure is all mine. But I do appreciate clothing more on the unassuming side, if it is not for some special occasion".

[Rarity's Intrigue Roll…]

"Oh, I know what you mean," Rarity agrees with a nod, "but still, I must say tha…"

Until her eyes shoot wide open, her mouth still stuck with an "aaa" sound that prolongs itself for half a second more.

The next thing you know, her gracious mannerism completely disappears, legs going straight as ramrods, and a smile that is clearly panicked appearing on her face.

"Oh, Velvet Covers! I mean, Mrs. Velvet Covers. Or is it madam? Or Dame?" her smile starts to crumble, one hoof going to her forehead as if she was about to start sweating at any moment, "Its actually Lady, isn't it? Oh no, I just did it again didn't I?!"

"Excuse me, what?", you honestly have no idea of what is going on.

"Oh, nothing at all, just being polite! I most surely didn't just say your dress is boring," she continues to talk faster and faster, "and I most surely didn't just imply that you have terrible fashion sense! Not at all!"

To be honest, you start getting nervous at her sudden… suddenness.

"And even if I did, what does it matter, right?", she nearly stammers several times, "I mean, what does my opinion matter when it comes to this sort of thing, right?"

She keeps getting more and more distressed, and you decide to-


[Calming Rarity down, breakpoints 40/80]

[Roll: 38 + 11 (diplomacy) + 1 (GRAIL bonus) = 50]


"Hey, hey, calm down. It's all right, you're not offending anyone," you try to soothe her, although something tells you that trying to go for a hoof on her shoulder would be a bad idea, "and in fact, like I said, this dress is supposed to be more on the subtle side. It really says something that you managed to see through it. Why, I'd say that shows you have an excellent sense for fashion!"

You breathe a sigh of relief when you see that the mare is actually calming down.

"Rarity, wasn't it? I'm afraid my own sense for dresses and whatnots is not even close to sharp, so I'd love if you could give me some pointers," you say as she finishes to recollect herself.

"Well, I'd be delighted, but I'm not sure if I can rightly compete with Canterlot-chique," she says, slightly embarrassed, confidence slowly returning to her voice, "but I can say I'd love to work something up for you regardless."

You nod in agreement, "you did say something about a Boutique, right?"

"Oh, but I did, didn't I?", Rarity's eyes widen up slightly once again, as she sees where you are leading that conversation, "although it's a shame that it's… under repairs! That's right, it's in no condition to receive visitors, I'm afraid, especially one of your stature. You wouldn't be able to put a hoof in it without getting covered in paint and all that," she forces another smile.

"Oh, quite a shame then…" to which you can do nothing but agree. "But I'll be looking forward to visiting it in the future, then?"

"But surely, darling. I'll be looking forward to it if it's the case" Rarity answers back almost immediately, a strange mixture of apprehension and hope in her eyes.

"Well then, once again, it was a pleasure to meet you Rarity."

"It was all mine Velvet Covers!"



You go on your way, continuing your stroll in a direction that will lead you back home, thinking to yourself that you didn't expect a pony who had wielded an Element of Harmony to be so…  well, pleasantly normal! You quite liked her, actually, and she seems to own a fashion store. It would be an honestly good pastime to go there.

It is only when you see Ponpon, holding open the front gates, that you realize you forgot to ask where her Boutique is.

Well, looking for it might be fun as well.



(Didn't roll enough to get into her Boutique, but enough to avoid… a rather dramatic consequence. Do recall this is Season 1 Rarity (as well as Season 1 every-character-else). The Equestria-famous fashionista is still a small-town dreamer, and although you are a minor noble you are the only one in Ponyville.)









Evening is beginning to fall, and the shadows begin to lengthen. Not exactly "consuming" the world, but not rightly "covering" it either. You tried to remember when you started making that distinction, when your point of view about evenings changed so subtly. And you couldn't find any answers.

The only thing you have done, so far, is ask questions. But perhaps it is time to start working on answering them on your own.

You will be back before sunset, you decide, and before anypony can voice any questions you're already on your dress and out through the front gates. Hopefully, nopony will even notice.


[The Golden Oak Library is not the ONLY place with books in Ponyville, you know… breakpoints every +20]

[Roll: 8 + 12 (learning) +5 (SECRET HISTORIES bonus) = 25]


You stumble upon a small bookshop at the edge of Ponyville, and enter it on a whim, the bored-looking shop owner barely looks up to acknowledge you as you enter. After sifting through a few books, you finally stumble upon two that at least partly catch your interest.

[Rolling…]

[ ] A handbook that told the tale of a thief – KNOCK Level 1, costs 7 bits

[ ] A cooking manual, with a surprisingly in-depth chapter on how to repair broken kitchen utensils – FORGE Level 1, costs 7 bits

You ponder for a while on whether to purchase them or not, and quickly go home.











You look into your own eyes in the mirror, and take a deep breath.

Everything has already been taken care of and accounted for. Stormchaser is out of town for work, you have already put Silky Stream to bed, and you are pretty sure that you're going to sleep in no time as soon as your head hits the pillows.

With a final nod, you bring up the scissors, gently unfurl your mane with the help of magic, and snip a short strand of it right from the middle.

A change done deliberately, but hidden in plain sight in a place nopony would notice.

You say a few words that you know, for good measure, that you sometimes heard being whispered by your Master, or perhaps whispered into your head by the incessant buzzing that accompanies the cult's meetings. But regardless, you also know those words to be holy, or at least that they are uttered in holy places, and that is enough.

You leave the scissors on top of the cabinet, together with the cut lock of mane, right in front of the mirror. And you quickly make your way to bed.

You fall asleep.



And wake up in the crossroads, the Woods open in wide darkness before your eyes.



It is always in a crossroad, that is, in a literal cross between two of the paths of dark-blue stone. And yet, the directions they go is never the same between any two times you have been here.

But this time, you do not worry yourself in finding the path that would lead into the Woods. This time you turn your back to the Woods and look towards the horizon.

You can immediately see how simple it appears to be, and how complicated it actually will be. The whole problem is that the paths must be followed, if you step even a single hoof outside of the dark-blue stone boundary that they set you will not get anywhere, that is why it is difficult for most ponies to even arrive at the Woods to begin with. The paths will criss-cross, sometimes collide, or sometimes wander off in another direction forever, until you wake up in failure.

And there is no point in trying to map them either. You know well that the paths change while you are not looking, and sometimes change even while you are looking.

No, the only way to navigate the paths is to know certain secrets. To know what signs to look for, and which direction to follow once you reach a point where two paths become one, or three, or ten. You think deeply on that matter for a while.

You see your objective. Not directly, but you see it. On the great and far horizon there are vast chains of mountains, sure, but the world curves before it actually reaches them. But right there, right beyond the curve of the world and before the mountains, there is a hue of light. A soft arch of something that looks at the same time like mists, and aurora borealis, and perhaps the faint sheen given off by fireflies. You know that place to be the Dreamlands, as you heard from your Master, as much as even speaking about it surely displeases him… (her?)

However, you also recall that your Master said that the Dreamlands are a different world. A world made by the dreams of ponykind. A place of its own.

Making up your mind, you set forward to try and make your way through the paths.


[To Cross to Other Worlds, CD 60]

[Roll: 68 + 0 (KNOCK – Level 0) + 12 (learning) + 5 (SECRET HISTORIES bonus) = 85]


You try to recall every single piece of Knock-related knowledge you have, guessing at what parables they could have with the shapes that the paths took, whenever they joined and separated. You press on until you find yourself on a single path that seems to lead on forever. At first you feel a bit discouraged, thinking this is a failed path that would not end until you wake up, but eventually the lights on the horizon grows just a bit stronger, and you quicken your pace in anticipation.

Finally, the path widens up until it forms a circle around itself. But your eyes are immediately drawn to what is in the middle of the circle.

A small lake, or is it just a puddle? A reflective sheen of dream-water shines faintly in the middle of the circle, the dark-blue stone path circling around it as a vein would circle an organ, or perhaps as a shackle would circle a prisoner. But that matters not, you think, as you peer more deeply into the water.

You soon realize that it does not have a shine of its own, instead it bleeds light into the world you are in. For some reason you can't help but to feel revulsion for it, several detestable comments of your Master about the Dreamlands resurfacing in your mind with that realization.

It was like a small corrupted pool, like the tip of a chimney slowly belching poison and smog. It didn't matter that the Mansus was surrounded by an infinite plane, or by the Woods, or the fact that the mountains in the far horizons had no paths that connected to them. During one brief moment, all that mattered was that the pool of water was right there, slowly spreading its essence into the air. Slowly bringing more of itself and its light and its essence into the Mansus, causing the very air around it to become itself.

And you knew during that short moment that if the Dreamlands ever had things its own way, one day it would surely turn the Mansus into itself.

But, you snap out of that idea, forgetting it as quickly as you learned it, for now this puddle is a door, and doors have but one utility.

You carefully dip your head into the dream-water, and take a peek into the other side. And when you take your head back, disoriented, you know you have achieved what you have come for.

But a sense of urgency soon reaches your mind. You know you must wake quickly, for that is the way with paths. You must return to the Wake and commit your choices and turns and twists into memory, less they are forgotten and change when you next come to visit.

You wake up in the morning, the scissor and lock of mane still exactly where you left them. Was it not for your leg you would have practically jumped out of bed, but instead, mostly due to all the practice you have had at suppressing that urge, you gently make your way down from your bed, swipe the lock of mane into the trash bin and bring out a pen and quill with the glow of your horn.

And reaching into as much of your memory as you possibly can, you draw what is the mixture of a map and a poem of how to return to the Dreamlands. Once you are done, you know you will no longer forget it, and the drawing will quickly be introduced to a candle's fire.





You have succeeded at crossing into another world, on your own, and for the first time. This feat is the providence of KNOCK, to which you have introduced yourself. Gained 1 scrap of Knock Lore.

KNOCK Lore is now level 1!









You sit down in your office, a large stack of papers with the reports of crops, tool necessities, punctual problems, and the myriad of other things you have to address daily is piled high in front of you. You float your quill closer to you, and levitate the topmost report to the middle of your desk.

When a slight knock comes from your door, disturbing your concentration before it had even managed to sufficiently gather.

"Pardon ma'am", Ponpon walks into your office shortly after, "but you said you'd like to hear from them as soon as any correspondence arrived."

You look at Ponpon quizzically, but she excuses herself before you can ask any questions.

"Oh," you say to yourself, "I'd almost forgotten I asked them to do that."

Inside the letter is a short report, and a few pictures of…

[Artifact Search: Servants]

[Roll: 54 + 12 (learning) = 66. Level 3]

[Suspicion: 7 + 30 (level 3) = 37. Only slightly suspicious, "eccentric" is the word.]


The skin of a furred animal worked into a large blanket, or perhaps a thick carpet. Your servants also wrote that the owner insists that anyone who sleeps on (or under) it, if they are sick, will wake up feeling refreshed.

HEART artifact

Level 3

Cost: 200 bits

[ ] Buy

[ ] Keep it on hold
> Turn 2 - Results, part 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



Having somehow reached the Dreamlands, you decide you must now explore them throughout this month. And you hope to find Princess Luna, or at least traces of her, as you do.
And in the Wake, the living world, you decide to make some time to know a few of your fellow cultists better. As well as foster your newfound relationship with a certain unicorn you have recently met.



As much as you might be uninclined to it, Stormchaser isn't going to be anywhere else for the next few weeks. You usually prefer having the whole bed for yourself whenever you go into the Mansus, since you have no idea if you sleep-talk or do anything else that might cause him to notice you, or that could even cause him to try to wake you up which would be far more inconvenient. But you are filled with a sense of urgency this time.

The map to the Dreamlands is still fresh in your mind, that haphazard sketch of half-written notes and poorly drawn drafts. You don't exactly fear that you will suddenly forget it, but you don't want to just keep it as a memory either.

So you made sure you had as much work as possible, to justify staying in your office until long after the sunset. You look out through the large window behind your desk, and the full moon stares back at you. "Fitting", you think, as you finally put your quill and papers away, and make the somewhat long trek down the corridor towards your room.

Thankfully, and as expected, you can hear your husband's soft breathing, indicating he is fast asleep. You summon up the faintest of lights from your horn, and gently floats the scissors out from a drawer, bringing it towards your mane.

Snip, goes a small lock, that you make sure to toss into the trash bin.

Who knows, perhaps the Moth might even approve of this sneakiness you're partaking in.

You climb onto the bed, each step making you realize just how tired you are from a long day of work, and you don't even notice your head hitting the pillows before you are fast asleep.



For all you are concerned, it was almost as if you had simply blinked, the darkness of your room suddenly lighting up into the moonlight of the crossroads.

You look back once towards the Woods, gazing at it for some reason that your mind can't exactly pinpoint what it is, but that your rationality insists that is to "make sure it is still there", and immediately after that you go towards the horizon, through the path you know that leads to the Dreamlands.



It is shaped like a cavern, this time, its entrance open wide from a small hill of dark sand, the stone path leading toward it. Maybe it is waiting for you, knowing that you are seeking passage, maybe it changes shape every night. But it matters little, for the faint dream-light still comes from its depths in its smoky substance, showing you that it is indeed the passage you seek.

You walk into the cavern, feeling the stone under your hoofs turn into sand, and that sand turn into something else. The faint light from the cave competes with darkness for a moment, until it slowly becomes brighter and brighter as if you were walking into a well lit room, the mist becoming brighter as it grows heavier around you.

And without warning, you step out of that mist, and find yourself in a totally different place.

You are on what looks like to be the end of a long wooden bridge, bright mist completely blocking the path from where you came. And before you lies the dizzying realm of the Dreamlands.

The wooden bridge ends before a floating carpet that seems to go on forever. It splits and turns, even going upside down and spinning into itself several times in what seems like a veritable labyrinth. It reminds you of the crossroads around the Woods, but far more confusing and random. The paths formed by the carpet are flanked on both sides by endless sets of doors, each marked with an unique symbol that you immediately realize are cutie marks, glowing softly in an almost soothing manner.

And on the backdrop of it all, utter darkness. The cutie-marked doors, have a glow of their own, and the very air seems to faintly radiate light, like the mists behind you. But apart from the glow of the Dreamlands, there is only an endless and lightless ocean.


[Taking it all in, breakpoints 40/80/100]

[Roll: 73 + 12 (Learning) = 85, you realize you can try something]


The whole landscape, you come to a conclusion, doesn't make any sense. But that's the whole point, it almost seems to be intentional. And two reasons for that come to your mind: one, because that whole place is the sum of all of ponykind's subconscious thoughts, once connected together, hence it being chaotic.

Or two… because the Dreamlands are shaped by ideas, and the way it stands before you is how your own mind is interpreting it.

Just because you are dreaming right now, it doesn't mean that the scenario before you isn't real. But just because it is real, it doesn't mean that it still isn't a dream.

Does that even make sense…?

"Well", you think, "but if the Dreamlands are still a dream in itself, maybe I can…"


[Glitching the system, breakpoints 60/100]

[Roll: 87 + 12 (Magic) + 5 (Gifted) = 104]


You close your eyes.

If you are correct, then this is a dream. The whole chaotic mess in front of you, at least, is a dream, and consequently it has that shape because your mind is interpreting it like that.

But you are also a pony, a being borne with magic, and magic is something which your race actively uses to reshape the world. Something that you actively use to reshape the world. So, if you attempt to shape the world before you with magic, then maybe you will convince your mind that you actually succeeded, and the landscape in turn will transform into what your magic tried to do in the first place.

You push aside the contradictory ideas that swim through your head as your horn glows, light shining out from it that you can see even through your closed eyes. If anything, you have learned that those sorts of thoughts work best not when you try to think on them, but when you feel them.

And you feel the world settle into place.

You expected some sort of rumbling, maybe some dramatic sound as the impossible labyrinth twists into itself. But you open your eyes after a period of awkward silence, and see the Dreamlands finishing to settle down in a much more convenient shape.

The Dreamlands presents itself to you as a labyrinth no longer, especially not a three-dimensional labyrinth you realize with relief, and instead is now shaped as something like a… perhaps a city? Pleasantly wide pathways, still of that same carpet, meet in avenues, sometimes forming small circles that perhaps could be parks, and sometimes thinning down into consecutive rows that could be small urban streets.

It is still impossibly vast, of course, with the glow of cutie-marked doors still stretching far beyond your sight.

But this is orders of magnitude better than before.


[Successfully reinterpreted the Dreamlands, +20 on all rolls for the rest of this night]


You step out of the wooden bridge and into the wide carpeted avenue, the main issue of your visit there coming to your mind.

How to track Princess Luna?

There was not really any material for you to fall back to. Everything you remember reading, and the few odd classes of pony history you recall, simply mentioned that Princess Luna was "guardian of night and dreams". But considering how unreliable recorded history is, since everypony somehow forgot that Princess Luna was real and not a cautionary fairy tale, that vague knowledge isn't much to fall back to.

Still, the Dreamlands exists, and if anypony can access it it's her.

Well, no other way to start then with a hoof in front of the other.


[Searching for Princess Luna]

[Search Roll: 3 + 8 (Martial) + 5 (SECRET HISTORIES bonus) + 20 (Dreamscape shaping) = 36, not much progress, really]

[Subtlety Roll: 92 + 10 (Intrigue) + 5 (MOTH bonus) + 20 (Dreamscape shaping) = 127, not a ripple in the dreamwater]


You are in unknown territory, looking for somepony who you are not really sure how might react if you find her, so you decide be as subtle as possible while you are here.

And oh, how well that goes.

You make your way deeper into the Dreamlands, your path quickly turning into a maddening criss-cross of confusion. You walk close to the flanking doors, their glowing cutie marks forming shadows under which you walk. You take paths that would have been back-alleys and shortcuts, if this place truly was a city, and when you don't see a path where you wish to tread you make one, a glow of your horn and your self-convinced point of view paving a narrow passage where once there was only blackness.

But in all honesty, for all of the random paths you are taking you also realize that you are walking randomly when it comes to your goal. You keep your eyes peeled towards the horizon, in case Princess Luna appears as some sort of shooting star in the emptiness that surrounds the Dreamlands. You even notice that some doors simply disappear, probably because the pony it belonged to woke up.

But nothing of Princess Luna yet, you think, taking three steps into a wider dream-avenue.

When you immediately realize something is wrong.


[Their detection Roll: 90 + 15 (???) = 105, vigilant, but not enough]


Something reels inside you, a buzzing in your head that is at the same time loud, sudden, and gone before you realize it was there. But by some instinct you wouldn't have been able to pull off with your real-life leg, you jump back towards the dream-alley from where you came and practically hug your back against a door.

You're not even sure why you did it, until you look down towards the floor.

A wave of dread washes over you when you see it. There are shadows on the ground. The shape of something is blocking the faint yet even light of the cutie-marked doors that are out of your view, but you can see that there is something there, and you very nearly stepped on its shadow.

Which, of course, would have meant it would have seen you.

You slowly, slowly distance your back from the door, practically putting your front hoofs on the ground one at a time, your heart beating against your chest, the air you know not to be real still stuck in your throat. Of course you are in a dream, but you know enough about magic and dreams, so you also know that being in a dream does NOT mean you are not in danger.

You keep your eyes on the shadows, but they are too vague for you to even begin guessing what they could be. Whatever it is, though, you intuitively know it is not Princess Luna or another pony like yourself. You simply know by the pounding on your heart and the… revolting sensation in your gut that whatever that creature is, it is not natural. Besides, dream or no dream the fear you are feeling is extremely real.

And then, you hear the chittering.

It is something like the noise of nails against a black board, banded with the sound of clicks and snaps, sending a chill down your spine whenever it reached your ears. Worse of all, you can clearly identify more than one source of it. It is either more than one thing, or one large thing with two mouths that are far from each other.

You gulp, realizing that it could very well be the second case.

Whatever that thing is, it doesn't look like it will move anytime soon, or if it does then it might just come in your direction, and you're not about to risk that. You quickly double back from where you came, sticking close to the shadows.

Keeping the frames of the doors between you and it, of course. The heart-pounding fear on your chest has already overtaken whatever curiosity you could possibly feel.

"What the hell was that… things," you think to yourself as soon as you far away enough, at least for the waves of dread to stop pounding against your heart. You have no regrets of not having seen what it was but, now that you can think more rationally, you realize that you are left with absolutely no knowledge of what you were going against either.

Was it a nightmare? Perhaps something that escaped somepony's dream? Perhaps some subconscious gestalt? You are in the Dreamlands after all, you are pretty sure that this realm can play fast and loose with its own rules, if there even are any.

However, there are still countless cutie-marked doors, going on forever in an endless map of faint lights, that means that most of Equestria is still asleep, and you still have time. You take a few more deep breaths, and prepare to look for Princess Luna again. For all you know, that thing was just some one-of-a-kind creature…

Of course, you think while keeping your body next to the cover offered by the cutie-marked doors, you are obviously not taking the risk of blindly believing in that assumption.


[Cautiously searching for Princess Luna]

[Search Roll: 36 + 8 (Martial) + 5 (SECRET HISTORIES bonus) + 20 (Dreamscape shaping) – 10 (Caution) = 59, somewhat better]

[Subtlety Roll: 88 + 10 (Intrigue) + 5 (MOTH bonus) + 20 (Dreamscape shaping) + 10 (Caution) = 133, like a moth in a forest]

[Their detection Roll: 25 + 15 (???) = 40, they cannot search if they don't even know you are there]


You practically crawl through the paths of the Dreamlands.

To hell with orderly pathtaking. The Dreamlands were a mess when you first stepped hoof in it, so it surely wont mind if you make a mess of it again. You create paths where once there were none, and then you make paths over those paths, and under them. Catwalks appear over avenues you prefer to avoid, holes are formed on the carpeted floor, leading to a level below yours that wasn't there before. You do everything in your power to change direction while still making meaningful progress whenever you hear that horrible noise in the distance, or whenever a wave of revulsion hits you, no matter how far.

And to your dawning horror, as you make your way and weave paths around those things, you realize that there are a lot of them. You even manage to take a look at one of those… creatures, once.

Obviously, you immediately wish you hadn't.

The creature you saw was a formless thing, a shifting wave of revolting darkness that looked too much like flesh. You saw no eyes, unless those glowing red things were eyes, but you did see many mouths. There were things attached to it that you think resembled tentacles, but you turned away before you could get a clearer picture.

The one thing that brought you the most vague sense of relief was the fact that for all of its hideousness, it didn't seem to have any substance to it. Like it was a mist or a shadow or a foggy reflection, but definitely not real.

Well, real enough to be there, and for you to know you do not want to bump into one of those. Real enough for you to realize that the one you saw was apparently licking one of the cutie-marked doors.

But not "real" real… you hope.

Still, for all of your halted and cautious progress, you think you made some headway. You didn't see any shooting stars flying over the Dreamlands, no alicorn figure doing alicorn dream magic, but you do see something that resembles a trail.

You pass by a cutie-marked door that seems to be shinning more than the others. You look around to make sure that you are alone and cautiously place one hoof on the doorknob.

And you feel it. You are not sure if you were going to try and open it, but as soon as you touch it you realize it's not necessary. You can feel the faint energy of relief, the soft whisper of a wordless thank-you. The sensation of somepony being caught mid-fall, and delivered into safety.

Princess Luna had been through that door, she had been inside that dream. Quite recently, you might add.

You quickly look around, searching for more doors that shared that glow, perhaps another hoofprint that marked her passing, something else that you can hang on to. You realize that the amount of cutie-marked doors is diminishing, a horizon clearly appearing where there was once an endless ocean of faint light. Ponies are waking up, perhaps the sun is about to rise.

One last attempt. You will take a route that heads towards the exit, even if you are a bit reckless, but you'll make one last attempt.


[Search Roll: 14 + 8 (Martial) + 5 (SECRET HISTORIES bonus) + 20 (Dreamscape shaping) = 47]

[Subtlety Roll: 43 + 10 (Intrigue) + 5 (MOTH bonus) + 20 (Dreamscape shaping) = 78]

[Their detection Roll: 23 + 15 (???) = 38]


But you find no sign of the Princess herself, and you arrive once more at the beginning of the wooden bridge, the solid-looking wall of bright mist marking your way back to the crossroads. You did see a few more marked doors, so perhaps you found a path where she had also trodden, but nothing more.

You look back, and watch as more and more of the doors disappear as ponies wake up, the endless sea of light from the Dreamlands disappearing much like the stars might fade from the sky as the sun rises. Perhaps that is intentional, you think, as you turn your back on it and step into the mists.

Perhaps you would also wake up if you waited long enough there, perhaps the Dreamlands would never truly shrink enough, as some ponies obviously sleep through the day. But those are things you are not willing to find out, not tonight.

You cross the mists back into the crossroad, stepping out of the cave and seeing the Woods in the distant horizon.

And you prepare to wake up.





You have come to the realization that sometimes the shape of the world depends on how you interpret it. The light of LANTERN opens avenues in your mind where once there was only darkness. Gained 1 scrap of Lantern Lore.
(Learned by achieving maximum bonus on Dreamlands reshaping)

LANTERN Lore is now level 1!

You called upon your knowledge of the Woods and wove paths of erratic deception around things you did not (and needed not) understand. Gained 1 scrap of Moth Lore.
(Learned by totally avoiding detection)
> Turn 2 - Results, part 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You are distressed.

You can hide it, sure. Plenty of things have already happened in your life, and many of them happened to you while you were powerless to interfere or have any say in it, so of course you can manage it. Just go on with your routine, just keep up with your everyday life.
Bid your husband safe travels when he leaves for his work, tuck your daughter into bed, make the decisions on how many earth pony farmers should be assigned to which fields, send the weekly reports to Canterlot.

But you can still feel that distress eating away at you. Slightly, slowly, almost to the point where you could ignore it if you really wanted to. But you don't want to. You can't.

You think about it every time night falls. You feel it as a shiver in your spine every time you put your daughter to sleep.



What the hell were those things you saw in the Dreamlands?



You dim the light of your lamp, the large working desk in which it sits sending deeper shadows into the floor. You are already done for the day when it comes to work, have already been for a while in fact, but sleeping really doesn't feel like a comfortable idea as of late.

Sure, you could go into the Mansus. But going there in your current mind state, or rather going there without a goal, would not be beneficial. At best you would simply get lost in the Woods, and at worst something else might find you in the Woods instead. The Mansus has its own dangers after all, of which you know only very few.

However, none of them are as wrong as those things. Not nearly as wrong.

For a brief moment you remember that flash of memory. Tongues that weren't tongues licking, scraping, against a wooden door with somepony's cutie mark engraved on it. You are thankful that your daughter still doesn't have hers, or you are sure that your mind would already have started making cruel changes to that memory. But you still have to force yourself to make those images stop.

You take a deep breath, the lamp-warm air from a night's worth of work filling your lungs, bringing you some sort of calm.

Right, you think to yourself, no point in being irrational about it. You are Velvet Covers, and you didn't get your cutie mark by flailing in worry whenever something complicated showed up in your life.

What do you know? That is the first question you ask yourself.

Well, first of all you know about the Mansus, and you know what you have been told by your cult's Master. Equestria might be a magical place, but no matter how one looks at it, it is also extremely unnatural.

You remember struggling with the word "unnatural" at first. The long conversations you had with Copper Secateur on what (at first) were just innocent book club meetings immediately coming to your mind. It really took some time for the idea that the sun and moon are moved daily by Princess Celestia to sink in. Well, not the fact itself, since everypony knows that, but rather the fact that the very concept of day and night, and their constancy, only exists because Princess Celestia makes it so.

"But it has been like that for as long as history goes" you said, stating the obvious.

"Precisely" was her answer, with something akin to a mocking smile.

Clouds are moved by the pegasi, seasons are changed by magic or hard labor. Everywhere a pony looks, she can see a land shaped by design.

The so-called natural order of Equestria is enforced, as if the whole world is a stage in which the props have to be moved manually, or else the play itself will make no sense.

That was what drew you in, at first. That small tidbit of realization that nopony else seemed to notice, that feeling of having your eyes open when everypony else was blind, the satisfaction of completing a small puzzle.

That "being part of a cult", of something closed off, private.

Then, you were introduced to the cult's Master, and you started to learn some other secrets.

You were shown the Mansus, and had to struggle your way through the crossroads and into the Woods proper. You learned about being lost, and how not to be found. You have learned how to walk on shadows, and have sometimes even seen shadows walk.

And that's what was so intriguing about it. You are an unicorn, you know magic, and the things you have seen and heard are not magic. Those things don't differentiate between earth ponies, pegasi or unicorns, they simply happen. They simply work.

The same way you were shocked to realize that Equestria's nature was enforced by ponies, you were also fascinated when you realized that you might have actually found the hints to some natural laws. Real natural laws, even if they were taught to you in secret meetings, or dreams, or through whispers in a dark forest that might not exist.

And right now, you take a deep breath to order your thoughts, what you are pondering is the… next logical question on all this.

Why?

Why does Princess Celestia enforces such things? Moving the sun and moon every day is something beyond deliberate once one starts to think about it. It might be seen as natural after millennia of culture and history, but she is older than that. So why?

And on the other hand, isn't Celestia benevolent? She has been for as long as any pony is concerned, so why does your Master insists that her actions are "abominable", as he says?

And most importantly, why are there those things in the Dreamlands of ponykind? Why are there things that right now could be eyeing the entrance to the dreams of your own daughter?

You sag in your cushioned seat, your mind starting to draw blanks and run in circles thanks to those questions, and to the long day of work you have just been through.

"I don't know…" you say to yourself, almost in a depressed tone, "I know too little about… all of this…"

Your horn flickers for a moment, the lamp before your eyes flickering in return before its light vanishes. It is getting colder, and you don't want to limp all the way back to your room if your hindleg suddenly decides it is too cold, so you start walking out of your office.

"But if there is an answer, then I'm going to find out."









You had many options on how you could have done this.

You could have staged a "coincidental meeting". Two friends bumping into each other on the streets, a flurry of embarrassed apologies quickly turning into smiles as they both recognize each other and head off together, chatting merrily towards the nearest café.

Or perhaps you could have elected a more unconventional road. Although the Woods are vast and shifting, there are certain places that you and your fellow cult members have been taught to traverse frequently. It is possible to carve certain messages on the darkened bark of some trees, that fade after a lunar cycle. Inadequate to storage knowledge, but perfect for scheduling places and times of gathering.

However, in the end this is Ponyville. In all honesty there is not really much need for secrecy when it comes to meeting somepony in private. There is equally no need to go about your business publicly, and leave a trail of crumbs that might be followed in the future, but that doesn't mean you need a great and convoluted plan for every single small part of your life either.

So you had decided, a few days back, to send a letter to Starry Dancer offering to meet with her, and an answer came shortly after.

"There you are!" a delighted voice, followed by the soft sound of trotting, snaps you out of your reverie, "I gotta say, I knew you weren't lying in your letter. But boy was it a surprise!"

A pink pegasus sits in front of you, her orange mane with a single teal streak covering one of her eyes, but not her smile. And her smile, you can see, is both honest and curious.

"And I'm glad you wrote me back, Starry Dancer," you answer, floating the teacup you were drinking from down to the saucer in front of you, although you make no comment on how... short her answer was. Two-letters short, in fact.

The two of you are in a tea house. One not far from where you live, but one that you have never visited before regardless.

Well, not like the list of places you have never visited in Ponyville is short to begin with. The more you think about it, the more you realize that you might as well have just moved into town a few months back, with how little you know about it.

"Of course I would!" she beams at you and take a menu in her hoofs, her smile turning into a questioning gaze as she reads through it, "but uhm… what do you want to talk about again…?"

"Since we are in the same… club," you say in a nonchalant way as a waiter stallion walks towards you table, "I figured I could actually learn a thing or two if I joined in on somepony's else assignment. Well, I could both learn something, and get to know them better," you finish with a smile of your own.

"U-huh…" Starry Dancer has the menu almost covering her face now, you can almost picture her nose touching it. You can't help to tilt your head slightly at her until, "I'll have what she's having!" she puts the menu down a moment later, turning to the waiter stallion before he can even ask the question.

The stallion also seems slightly put off, but he nods shortly after and walks away.

"And why didn't you just say so in the first place then?" she says in an almost excited tone.

Although you're pretty sure you did say so, in your letter.

"So then, what can you help me with?" she continues, with that same innocence.

Which leaves you, admittedly, befuddled for half a second.

"That's… what I was hoping you could answer me?" you try asking, your polite smile slowly crumbling into doubt.

"Oh, right! Of course. Well then, here's what I've been up to these last few weeks…"





Government in Equestria is a rather… interesting subject, you ponder as you make your way through the streets of Ponyville.

Everypony lives in a monarchy, that much is undeniable. The title "Princess" seems rather unfit when "Queen" or "Immortal Empress" could have fit Princess Celestia much better, or at least would make a lot more sense.

But regardless of her title, she is still the undisputed ruler of Equestria. And under her wings ponykind lives in the richest lands that are known, with mineral wealth that far outstrips the mighty Yakk mines on the far north, and agricultural potential that puts the militarized Griffons beyond the eastern sea to shame. And there isn't a single creature (among those that bother to study about it, at least) that doesn't know that no other race dares to so much touch pony territory thanks to the presence of Princess Celestia.

Having a resident demigoddess reigning over you has its many perks, after all.

But anyway, focus on the topic at hoof, government in Equestria.

Since it is a monarchy, all power and authority emanates from Princess Celestia herself, but after centuries some of that power has become… well, not exactly "decentralized", but somewhat "shared".

As history goes, the first noble ponies were those who performed some sort of great feat. Said ponies would almost always be handsomely rewarded, usually with great wealth or (since it was far more available back then) large swathes of land. However, there was no single family, no matter how large, that could make proper use of so much land as was rewarded, so the usual practice was for said pony to allow others to settle in their land.

Those settled ponies would, in turn, recognize the land owner's authority over them, and suddenly the seeds of a small town have been sown, with the authority of the rewarded (and later known as "noble") pony being passed on through generations. Fast forward a few centuries and you have a noble family that rules over a city, with those who live in their lands recognizing their authority and right to rule.

Ponies tend to be good neighbors like that. Very few such stories have ended in bloodshed.

However, not all cities and towns share that background. Some of them saw their ruling noble families run dry, without heirs to pass the torch to. Others were simply founded by simple folk and were later recognized as a town by royal decree, like in Ponyville's case.

And that's what you have been thinking about. Ponyville's history, and its rulership.

More specifically, its current ruler, Mayor Mare.

You have been living in Ponyville for years now, and you cannot recall a single election taking place. Granted, you could have easily missed it between your isolated lifestyle and your rare trips to Canterlot, but you're pretty sure that they never happened to begin with. Which left you wondering about the "Mayor" part in her name…

Your best guess is that once Ponyville was officially recognized as a town, it would have started paying taxes as per royal decree. She might just have been the pony who rounded up all that work, or was part of a council that took care of mediating relations between the recently-declared town and Canterlot. After that, other public-servant related tasks probably piled up on her reliable hoofs, until she found herself as the de-facto leader of Ponyville. Hence the "Mayor".

And speaking of names, you also realize you have no idea what her actual name is. Oh well, Mayor Mare will have to do.

"Ma'am, we're here", Ponpon calls your attention. You blink twice before looking out through the window, and thanking her with a nod.

You have a very simple reason to be pondering governorship and nobility, and that is because you are about to pay a visit to Mayor Mare.

From the conversation you had with Starry Dancer, she has been trying to get on the good side of Mayor Mare for the last few weeks. More specifically, she has been trying to get a job on the Town Hall, or as the mayor's assistant, "whichever gets me closer to her, that is" was what the pegasus had said. And that is what you are going to help her with.

Unfortunately, you don't really know Mayor Mare. You met her, years ago, when you first moved into Ponyville on some sort of formal meeting your family had with her. But apart from that, you can't really say you had any sort of contact with her.

But what you do have is your name, and a carriage parked in front of the Town Hall, the doors of which have just been opened by Ponpon for you to step out.

Of course you detest riding the thing, but that's for personal reasons. No need to refrain from using a tool if it can be useful.

"Shall I go announce you to the mayor's office, ma'am?"

"No need Ponpon, we didn't exactly schedule a meeting with her. Let's just hope the good mayor has the time for a sudden visit," you say as you walk into the town hall.

Attracting quite a few curious gazes, you might add. After all, a well dressed unicorn accompanied by a fully uniformed maid, arriving in a carriage drawn by two stallions, isn't exactly a common sight in Ponyville, bar during a visit from a representative of Canterlot.

The town hall is mostly a reunion hall, used for grand festivities or ceremonies, receiving dignitaries or simply for the town to gather if there is some matter that needs to be discussed with the community. But you do know there is an office in here from where Mayor Mare works.

Or at least there was, years ago… Wait, there it is.

You walk to a door on the side of the large hall, the one topped by a bright plaque with "MAYOR MARE" engraved on it.

You give the door a few knocks, and soon enough you hear a muffled answer, followed by the sound of a few things being put aside, and of hoofs heading towards the door.

"Good afternoon! How can I …" Mayor Mare herself opens the door, already speaking before quite realizing who she is talking to.


[First (in a long while) Impressions, breakpoints 40/60/80]

[Roll: 36 + 10 (Diplomacy) + 5 (Beautiful) = 51, surprised, but available]


The sight of a well dressed unicorn flanked by a prim and proper looking maid can have the most varying of effects. In Canterlot, it is only expected, while in Ponyville it can earn you downright puzzled stares.

But true to her office, Mayor Mare has been the direct link between Ponyville and all manner of authorities for… well, for as long as you know. Her expression turns quizzical for less then a second before her practiced smile returns to her face.

"How can I help you, Mrs. Velvet Covers?" she finishes, after skipping only a single beat.

"Miss Mayor, it has been quite a while", you say with your most pleasant tone, shifting to an embarrassed one right after, "do pardon my sudden visit, unannounced as it is, but could I perhaps ask for your help on a matter?"

This actually gets her to raise an eyebrow, but a moment later her door is wide open, and she is welcoming you into her office.

"Thank you kindly, and please just call me Velvet," you say as you take a seat, Ponpon closing the door behind the two of you after you enter and waiting outside.

"In that case please just call me Mayor as well, no need for anything fancy with me," she says with a smile as she sits behind her own desk.

Not helpful with your whole "name" curiosity, you think idly…

"Now then, I am quite used to helping ponies, so please do tell what is this matter you have."

Mayor Mare seems to be in full business mode, so you don't think you'll gain anything from beating around the bushes for now.

"Well, I have been… or rather my family has been having problems with our farmlands here in Ponyville, or at least they perceive that they are having a problem," you try your best to sound like you're flustered with the whole situation. Not exactly wanting to agree with "your family", but not exactly sure how to react either. "It is basically a problem with regulation."

"Regulation? What sort of regulation, something on what your lands are planting or the likes?" she answers with genuine concern, you can almost see her trying to remember what sort of laws (ancient and obscure, or recent) you might be referring to.

She probably won't remember anything, you think to yourself. This whole "problem" is made up after all.

"Not really anything relating to that," you assure her, raising a hoof slightly, "it has to do with our working hands. We do employ a rather substantial number of earth ponies, after all, and there has been… problems, so to speak."

You can see a hint of worry in her eyes, and you latch on to that.

"The problems aren't really anything new. Things about payments, and season shifts, the usual issues with the weather department on how long the farmers say a season has to last, and so on… What changed is how our family head back in Canterlot is seeing things. He's recently started to say that since the workers are causing too much trouble, then it means that our business hasn't really integrated well with Ponyville, and that…"

You try your very best to sound tired as you deliver that last line.

"Well, that since we are having so many troubles with our workforce here, then we should move away all of our assets into another town."

You look down, trying to appear as worried as you can, and you see in her eyes that..


[Delivering the Lie, breakpoints 30/70/100]

[Roll: 88 + 10 (Intrigue) + 1 (GRAIL bonus) = 99, so close to the mayor freaking out]


You see her eyes go wide, some part of her very nearly losing control, but being restrained at the last moment, and she becomes speechless for a moment.

Of course, you can understand the reason for that.

Your family owns several farms and plantations to the east, and consequently employs a considerable number of ponies. Those ponies are paid, obviously, and live in Ponyville. Consequently, a good amount of riches flows from your family's coffers and into Ponyville's economy as a whole.

None of those riches are yours, of course, but you do administer them. And although the flow of bits that goes from your family's farmlands to Ponyville workers might not be an artery when it comes to local commerce, it's still significant. A cart that has four wheels can still function with three, but you will either have to make some modifications on its structure, or risk having it tip over if you mismanage the weight that it is carrying.

So what does Mayor Mare has when the sole administrator of almost the entirety of the eastern farmlands of Ponyville enters her office, and simply drops an "you're about to lose one of those four wheels" bomb?

She has a small disaster that's about to happen, that's what she has.

"Well, Mrs. Velvet, we simply can't let that happen now, can we?" you hear her voice almost fail. Almost. But Mayor Mare must have already talked to Princess Celestia herself, and is holding herself as best as she can. "And I'm sure these problems your family is seeing can be absolutely taken care of. But what exactly can we do to help?"

"I totally agree that this is a simple misunderstanding, but we have to somehow show that our relation with Ponyville is good…" you think to yourself for a moment, hoof on your chin, before you deliver the solution you had planned the whole time, "in fact, I think this could all be solved if we had somepony from here as an official contact with us," you say with an "aha!" smile.

"Somepony as a contact? You mean a liaison of sorts?"

"Yes, exactly that!" you clop your hoofs together, as if all of your problems had just been solved, "if we have somepony from the town hall to be an official link with us, maybe to even be a figurehead for our workers and whatnot, we can surely show my family that we have close ties with Ponyville."


[Does Starry Dancer stick the landing?]

[Roll: 24 + 9 (her Intrigue) = 33, no, she does not]


"Do you have anypony you could spare for that role?" you ask hopefully.

And now would be the perfect time for Starry Dancer to knock on the door. The hopeful mare who wants to help the mayor galloping in by sheer coincidence and saving the day. Or at least that's what you had planned with Starry.

But instead, an awkward silence extends itself as Mayor Mare looks thoughtfully (and with a slight bit of panic) at the papers on her desk.

"Well, nopony immediately comes to mind. I know a mare who is reliable and would surely want to help, but this sounds like it will be an awful lot of work and I'm not sure if she'd have the time to…"

No, it wont be an awful lot of work, you think to yourself. Bar signing some pre-written letters you would prepare yourself, this "liaison" would have no other worry except being an official assistant to the mayor. But you can't tell her that right now.

She mumbles to herself a bit more about somepony named "something-jack", but you don't really listen. Your ears straining, trying to hear a knock on the door that isn't arriving.

"Well, I can do it myself," Mayor Mare finally concludes, dread appearing in her eyes as she realizes that either she mauls this unknown amount of work herself, or Ponyville might suffer a blow, "and besides, nothing can really beat 'having close ties with Ponyville' more than letters and reports signed by the mayor herself, rig-?"

Until finally she is interrupted by the sound of knocking coming from the door, one in a particular rhythm that sounded like some sort of music.

And Mayor Mare must have recognized that music, because she lets out a short sight before answering.

"Could you come later? I'm having a meeting right now," Mayor Mare says towards the door, managing a voice that sounds a lot less tired than she looks, and even a bit educated.

You turn around, seeing the door open slightly, a pink pegasus looking in (or rather, specifically looking at you) with an apologetic expression.

"Oh? Terribly sorry miss Mayor, I'll be back later then," she says, moving to close the door.


[Rescuing the Situation, CD 40 (nearly-panicked Mayor)]

[Roll: 100 + 10 (Intrigue) + 1 (GRAIL bonus) = 111, critical success]


"Starry Dancer! Come on in!" you say with a sudden smile, your whole body perking up and facing her as if really in joy. "Why, what a pleasant surprise, how have you been?"

You keep your eyes on Starry Dancer, willing her to walk in with your stare.

And you have your back to Mayor, so there's no way she will notice the slight force in your gaze. But Starry Dancer herself sure does, and her apologetic expression turns into some shade of fright as she meekly walks in through the door.

"Pardon me Mrs. Velvet, but do you know this mare?" you hear Mayor asking from behind you.

"Of course I do! We are good friends, the two of us," you say in the most non-specific way possible, yet still beaming with sincerity, "but I had no idea that she worked for you Mayor… In fact, why not assign her for that liaison idea of ours? I can't think of anypony more reliable than her for the job, especially since it is somepony I already know so well."

You look into Mayor's eyes, your smiling face the picture of a pony who just struck gold during a previously hopeless situation, and you can almost see the options flashing inside her mind.

She could tell you that said mare does not work for the townhall, of course. But that would mean that she would have to tackle some obscure task as a connection between Ponyville and a noble family in Canterlot all by herself, and also that she would risk offending the very same noble who not only came to her for help, but also nearly gave her the news that a lot of earth pony farmers were about to lose their jobs.

Or… she could just smile at the pink pegasus who had recently, and quite sincerely perhaps, been trying to help her in her duties these past few weeks. If she could just play along with the misunderstanding that you brought up, hoping that "you wouldn't realize that you were mistaken", then the problem will have practically solved itself. Starry Dancer might be a bit on the clumsy side, always humming a song, and to be quite honest she sometimes can be a bit of a disturbance. But she is also forthright and earnest, and seems to have a great deal of potential.

Besides, she somehow seems to be personal friends with Ponyville's resident and recluse noble mare.

A few moments later, you see Mayor Mare smiling, a subtle sigh of relief causing her shoulders to relax.

"Starry Dancer," she says, the strain draining from her voice with each word, "take a seat, my assistant, me and Mrs. Velvet here would like to discuss an assignment with you."

You nod in agreement, and pretend you didn't see the quick wink that Mayor Mare gave to Starry Dancer as she sat by your side.





Well, this was our first 100.

Just a short notice, 100s and 1s are critical successes and failures, and that incurs in them having "lasting effects". This might come as a scrap of Lore reward, some material thing, perhaps a status upgrade or something else. But it will always be "a result beyond what you attempted to achieve" (as, I assume, is a normal practice in quests).

On this particular case, Starry managed to leap several steps up on Mayor's trust. Or will be able to, in due time, the two of them being off to a start that will go far better than expected. This 100 will be wholly cashed into Starry's cult mission, and she has you to thank for it.

You are also acquainted with Mayor Mare now.
> Turn 2 - Results, part 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You take the last bite from your breakfast, a smile on your face. Count yourself surprised, but today you're actually feeling giddy!

A napkin floats towards you as you hum a soft tune, and moments later you are out of your seat. You kiss your daughter's head as you pass her, and soon enough you're opening the door to-

"Sweetheart… is everything okay? You seem to be a bit…"

Until Stormchaser's voice interrupts you, causing your horn to freeze up while its magic is reaching out to the doorknob.

But of course, your husband's puzzled eyes have been following you this whole time. How could you not have addressed that?

"... uncharacteristic, today?" he finishes his sentence, after a good few seconds of fishing for words.

You turn towards him with an actually sincere smile.

"Whatever you mean by uncharacteristic?"

"Well the…" he fumbles for a few moments, until he points to where you were seated a few moments ago, "the humming? And the smiling? And the…"

"Oh," your smile disappears from your face, "you mean I'm uncharacteristic because I'm happy today?" you ask, raising an eyebrow with a you-are-now-digging-your-own-grave tone of voice.

"What? No! That's not what I meant, I mean," he looks at Silky Stream for help, suddenly realizing he was being cornered, but your daughter is too oblivious in her own breakfast to even notice the conversation.

You laugh, cutting him off before he can continue. Stallions are so easy to dance around.

"I'm joking dear, and I know what you mean," you say waving an apologetic hoof, "I'm just a bit excited because I'm visiting a friend today!"

You realize you are sounding a bit like a filly right now, but you can't help yourself for a few moments as you continue.

"Not an official meeting, not anything work related. I just realized this morning that I might not have done something like this in years! In fact, I think I've been so engrossed with work for such a long time that if it wasn't for Silky here with me, while you're out for business, I would have gone mad years ago!"

You can feel that you would actually have trotted in place for a bit while saying that, if you didn't know that it would have been a horrible idea for your leg.

But for all your smiles and excitement, for some reason your husband's quizzical look just grows deeper.

"But… don't you go to that book club of yours every so often?"

You freeze up for a second, a facehoof being very nearly avoided by all those years of etiquette classes. How could you have let that slip by you so easily?!

"Oh, that?" you laugh nervously, waving your hoof dismissively, "well, book club nowadays is almost a job in itself dear. Of course I enjoy it, but I feel like I'm actually starting to get competitive about it" you finish, recomposing your smile and hoping your husband would buy into it.

"Competitive about… book club activities?"

Nope, he definitely didn't buy it.

"You wouldn't get it, dear," you give him a wink, sighing in relief when you see him rolling his eyes and just giving up on the conversation.

And you walk out of the dining room before anypony else can stop you.









Despite all of that, you were being honest.

Granted, you will have to be more careful when balancing your "social life", or at least how other ponies perceive your supposed social life. You are after all, as far as anypony is concerned, a mare who attends a "book club" every so often. It might be less than once a month, but you can't just rave like a little filly whenever you meet a new pony who's not related to that.

Still, back to the topic at hand. Going to meet your friend.

Well… acquaintance? It doesn't matter. Today is a free day, and you intent to use a good part of it to do nothing important at all, be it work, family or cult related.

Now… where can you even find her to begin with…? You recall her saying something about a boutique, the same way you recall her not pointing you where it was, so…


[Searching for Rarity, breakpoints 40/60/80]

[Roll: 59 + 8 (Martial) + 5 (SECRET HISTORIES bonus) = 72, you find her, and she's not alone.]


It really wasn't hard at all, you must say.

At first you thought Ponyville's uniqueness would work against you, with almost every house being somewhat different from the other. You even passed by a place, you think it was a bakery, that was styled like a real cake, with brown roofs of "chocolate" and white tiles for "icing", and even a cupcake-shaped... room on top of it? The thing even had giant decorative candles on top of it which might have doubled as chimneys.

You mentally mark that place to make sure you never go near it with Silky Stream, or else she might break the front door or a window while rushing towards it.

But in the end, Ponyville's personal charm actually helped you find your quarry, you think to yourself, as you stand before the aptly named "Carousel Boutique". A soft blue and pink circular building that, upon closer inspection, does seem to be quite like how the fashionista would have liked it.

Even the small windows on the door are diamond-shaped, and you think you recall her cutie mark being something related to that.

You ponder on knocking on the door for a few seconds, but the stylish "open" sign quickly makes you decide against it. A soft bell rings as you open it, and you have to admit you are impressed.

The whole place seems to have been designed to awe from the moment a pony opens the door. Several mannequins are immediately in your view, each with a different kind of clothing, and the whole place seems to have been designed as if it was telling stories of sorts. A mannequin with a male overcoat and a top hat here, apparently courting one with a dress... a trio in summer gowns of different colors there, arranged as if having a pleasant conversation.

You even eye two of them, a more casual dress with an accompanying umbrella next to a filly-sized mannequin in a matching dress, that very much look perfect for you and Silky to wear together.

And the whole place is marvelously detailed. Mirrors at different heights for different points of view flanked by richly colored veils, several dressing rooms, and other small details wherever you look.

You were being honest when you told her that you didn't exactly knew much about fashion, a few weeks back, but even you can tell that the mare has talent.

"I'll be with you in a moment" you hear a familiar voice coming from deeper within the store, followed by the soft hum of levitating magic. Moments later, Rarity comes into view from behind a large set of hangers, each with a different piece of clothing. She doesn't freeze, much to your relief, but you can clearly see surprise in her face.

"Miss Velvet! Such a lovely surprise, what can I help you with?"

"Well, I was going to say I just came for a visit," you walk towards her, still looking around and taking in the decorations of the place, "but forget about me, this place is simply wonderful!"

"I try my best, Miss Velvet," she says with a slight blush, "but thank you, I am indeed a bit proud of my work."

"Oh, enough of the whole 'miss' thing. And you are telling me you designed all of this by yourself? I would have thought this was the hoofwork of at least three different ponies."

"Au contraire darling," she swings her mane, her blush turning into a delighted smile, "everything at Carousel Boutique was made by yours truly."

She walks around you, drawing your gaze to the several different outfits as she continues.

"Of course, inspiration is sometimes hard to come by. But Ponyville has yet to fail me on that regard-", your brief tour, and Rarity's proud smile, are suddenly interrupted by the sound of a short yelp, followed by something falling down, coming deeper from the boutique.

"Oh my, I almost forgot! Please wait a second here darling, I'll be right back," she says, hastily going to the source of the mysterious sound.

And, obviously, you go after her a few moments later.

"Oh I'm so sorry dear. Here, let me help you with this," you hear Rarity's voice, clearly nervous, coming from just a bit further ahead.

"Hey, wai- ouch! Careful with the pins!", followed by another voice you don't know.

"Rarity? Is anything the matter?" you ask, finally reaching the place from where you were hearing her.

You see Rarity, her expression slightly flustered, helping another pony take out an overly large dress that is clearly still in development stage.

Not a pony, you realize, a filly. Her coat as white as Rarity's, and her mane a pink and purple tone that is just a touch lighter than Rarity's. But in all other aspects, the small unicorn is basically a mini version of her.

She looks at you with a somewhat pained expression while the older mare tries to unfold the dress from around her. It clearly looks like the filly tried to walk in that overcomplicated thing, and tripped before her first hoof even touched the ground.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were attending somepony else before I arrived."

"Don't worry about it darling," she says, concentrating on her magic while trying to unknot a web of frills, "my sister was just helping me with modelling when the doorbell rang."

Which causes her sister to shoot a glare at her, prompting an uncomfortable smile from Rarity.

"Although I may have left Sweetie Belle on a particular pose for too long while we… chatted," she admits, still with an apologetic expression.

But a few moments later the dress is successfully untangled, and you can take a better look at the filly as she is safely floated to the floor.

"Oh, she looks the same age as Silky Stream," you say your thoughts out loud once you take a better look at the recently-freed pony.

"Silky? The transferred filly?" Sweetie Belle looks you from head to hoof, "oh right, you do look a bit like her."

"I had no idea you also had a sister, darling."

You let out a short laugh at Rarity's remark, quickly covering your mouth with a hoof. The two sisters look at you curiously before you can properly answer.

"Oh, sorry. I am actually referring to my daughter, you know."

Sweetie Belle simply nods, as if it was obvious. But Rarity, on the other hand.

"Daughter?! Why, but I thought… Around Sweetie Belle's age?" she looks you over again, twice, three times, her expression aghast.

"Mhmm, she still doesn't have a cutie mark either," you answer, watching the young filly embarrassedly try to hide her flank.

Oh, so she is already at that age then. You'll make sure to be mindful about it.

"But you… Velvet I never would have guessed it, you have the looks of a princess about you!" Rarity finally says, starting to settle down from her surprise.

You wave an embarrassed at hoof at her, that was quite the refined way of saying you are a good few years older than she thought you were.

"Well, I'm flattered. But here, let's not bother your sister with our grown mare talk. Why don't we take this somewhere else, and you tell me about what you have been working on?"

You see Sweetie Belle sigh in relief, both at the prospect of not having to pose anymore for some experimental dress, and because her blank flank was no longer a subject.

"Oh, I'd love to darling. Here, allow me to introduce you to a place I know. The tea is simply fabulous over there," she guides you towards the door with a satisfied nod.

And the two of you walk out of the boutique, idly chit-chatting as you make your way to the streets.





You and Rarity are no longer acquaintances, you are now actual friends!

You are now acquaintances with Sweetie Belle.










[Book Hunting in Ponyville]

[Roll: 86 + 12 (Learning) + 5 (SECRET HISTORIES bonus) = 103]


You are in the middle of Ponyville, under the afternoon sun, taking in the sight before your eyes.

And quite honestly, you are currently weighting your options.

You have passed by that building before, of course, but this is the first time you have actually realized what it is. For the longest time you had thought it was the house of some eccentric botanist pony, but you can see now that it isn't.

"Golden Oak Library… huh…" you muse to yourself.

On one hoof you went out today to buy books, not rent them.

But on the other… there could be a few interesting ones in there. And besides, if you recall correctly, you have been to libraries in Canterlot where there were some sort of sales section, when you were younger.

"Although this is a small-town library… it might not have something like that."

What finally makes you decide, in the end, is the afternoon sun. Your thoughts are starting to go from "books" to "how cool it might be inside a tree", so you realize it might be a good time to get inside a nice and shaded place.

You walk through the bright red door, the candle painted on it amusing you somewhat.

And you are greeted by a completely unexpected sight.

"Twiiiliiiiight! I told you somepony would show up!"

The library is a mess.

There are books strewn around the floor and all over the place. Well, not exactly strewn, some of them are neatly piled in columns, but still there isn't almost a single one of them that is actually in a shelf.

However, the mess in itself isn't the most shocking part of it. What made you freeze up for a good few seconds is the fact that-

"I'm sorry miss but uh… We're kinds closed for maintenance right now?"

There is a dragon in the middle of the library!

"Well, more like 'absolutely necessary reordering', according to somepony" he says, making a mock mimic of a voice as he talks, followed by a grumpy expression.

"I heard that Spike," another pony appears, and you hear her walking down the stairs as she speaks, "and I told you, there's no way anypony will be able to find anything in here unless we reorder it by genre and author name. This is important!"

But you don't even notice her, your eyes still locked on the dragon.

Sure, he is small, and purple, and doesn't even have wings yet. But he's still a dragon.

"I'm sorry miss, can I help you with anything?", you nearly jump in surprise as the purple mare appears at your side, carrying a stack of books with her glowing horn.

You recall her walking towards you in your peripheral vision, but she could have teleported there for all you were paying attention.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you take a deep breath, shaking your head a bit, "I was just surprised by your little friend there."

You finally manage to take a better look at the mare who is talking to you. She is quite young looking, to the point where you think she might have only recently become an adult. Her eyes still have that sort of innocent and curious looks that you would expect from a pony who is growing up, but the ease with which she is floating a rather large stack of books shows you that she knows a thing or two (but probably more) about magic.

"Don't worry about it. Spike can be quite a head turner once you meet him, but you get used to it," she says, turning away from you and filing the books in the air, quickly reading their sides and floating them towards a specific cabinet.

"Its just that I've never seen a dragon in my life. I didn't know there were any here in Ponyville."

"We are actually from Canterlot, but you're right, dragons aren't common over there either," she says with a bit of a giggle, "I'm Twilight Sparkle, by the way."

"Velvet Covers, a pleasure to meet you. And you too," you say towards the small dragon, "Spike, wasn't it?"

The purple dragon simply waves you with a dispirited expression, as the other unicorn starts floating more and more books for him to organize as well.

It takes you a few more seconds for your brain to finally make the connection.

This is Twilight Sparkle? This is the pony who is Princess Celestia's personal student? The one who defeated Nightmare Moon after gathering the long lost mythical Elements of Harmony?

She is way younger than you expected.

"Nice to meet you! And I'm sorry about the current state of the library, but so few ponies actually come here that I didn't think it would be any harm to try and rearrange it right now. Oh, are you here for anything in particular?" her expression suddenly lights up, "can I help you find a specific book or something?"

Some books fan around her as if in display, and you honestly wonder if it is intentional from her or some form of subconscious excitement. Either way, she must really like books.

Well, that's something the two of you have in common then!

"Actually I am," you say, and Twilight reacts almost instantly, "no single book in particular, but I do love having some literature to go through during my spare time."

"That's great! You must be the first pony I heard say that since I moved in from Canterlot," she claps her hoofs together, "here Spike, take my share for a few minutes, I'll help our guest search for what she's looking for!"

You feel a tinge of pity for the small dragon as a second pile of books floats towards his head. But instead of being neatly lowered down, they are instead "un-floated" above him, with gravity causing the expected result.

You thank the excited unicorn, of course, but you make sure to stay for as little time as possible to spare Spike the herculean task that he will have to do alone for as long as you are here.

But not before you find a few books that catch your eye, of course.


-A treatise on the relationship of Equestria and its neighboring lands – SECRET HISTORIES Level 3, costs 30 bits
-A dramatic reading of an ancient war – SECRET HISTORIES Level 2, costs 15 bits
-A historical atlas of Ponyville and its surrounding lands – Reveals TWO places for expeditions, costs 15 bits


You leave the Golden Oak Library, satisfied with what you have found, as well as with who you have met, and head back home..











The two stallions leave the package at your main hall, at your behest, and you quickly have it opened and moved to your room.

It is flamboyant to say the least, and definitely extravagant. And even though you are looking at it directly you cant quite decide if it is a carpet or a thick blanket. You also can't identify what animal that skin belonged to in life, but by the heavens it is soft.

You put it in your storage for the time being. The thing caused a few murmurs among your servants, but all of them of carefree nature, nothing to be worried about. And you are sure that none of them… felt, what you felt coming from the thing.

It isn't a worrying feeling, but you're also not about to put it as a carpet in your study room or start sleeping in it either. And you definitely will instruct your servants to not let Silky Stream see the thing. There is definitely some Heart going about that item, and you will be wary about it until you can properly study it.


[Acquired a HEART artifact]


Not long after, a servant comes to you with an excited face. You quickly recognize him as the one you sent to go looking for interesting books.

"Good evening ma'am, I have returned from the errant you sent me."

"Good evening. Go ahead, did you find anything?"


[Book Hunting in Ponyville – Servant Action]

[Roll: 1 + 12 (Learning) = 13, critical failure]

[Rolling for lost bits…]


He moves to take something out of his package, but instead of the report you were expecting, or a list of books and prices you thought he would present, he takes out an actual book.

You raise an eyebrow.

"It was almost like it was meant to happen, ma'am! I didn't even make it to the first bookshop before this wonderful wagon stopped next to me. They had all sorts of books, and once I told them what I was looking for, those helpful unicorns immediately presented me this copy!"

Your raised eyebrow slowly crumbles into dawning horror as you float the book out of his mouth and closer to your inspecting gaze.

"Something something…" you read the jumbled and convoluted title of the blue book, "deep mysteries? By the Flim & Flam book press?"

You quickly go through a few pages, realizing there is nothing useful in that book, and closing it before you actually start to feel sick about it.

"Yes ma'am!" the pony continues, excited, "and I know you told me to report back with a list. But they told me they were travelling merchants, and that it was the final copy they had! I just HAD to get it there and then!"

Several options went through your head. Facehoofing yourself was one of them, facehoofing him was another. Hunting down those two "helpful unicorns" and having a large stallion facehoof them several times was a third, equally alluring option.

But in the end, you simply thanked him for his work, and dismissed him for the rest of the night.

[Lost: 10 (base) + 9 (1d10 roll) = 19 bits]









You gather, once again.

It happened in the same way, the crossroads appearing before your eyes as soon as your head reached your bed. You had almost expected a dizzying sensation, as if you had just been pushed off a cliff, but it never came. You simply looked around, realized you were alone, and made your way towards the Woods.

And once again, you arrive at that same clearing, coming out of the bushes almost at the same time as the other five.

You nod towards your compatriots, with Copper Secateur waving back at you and Starry Dancer doing the same in a perhaps too excited manner.

But once the six of you form a loose circle... nothing. Nothing but silence, and the sound of wind against leaves, happens.

You strain your ears for a sign. Searching for the buzzing that should be mounting in your head, listening for the breaking of a twig that would surely come, waiting for the noise of things scraping against the bark of wood.

But you neither hear nor feel any of that.

Until one of you, a voice you have never heard before that you soon realize is Jade Whistle, starts speaking.

"We hit a roadblock, for a while," she turns her back to the woods and faces the rest of you, an action that the rest of you copy, forming some sort of talking circle, "I thought the best candidates for any magic ritual we might attempt would be among those who had already made their way into the Woods. Affinity, understanding of secrets, a mark of those sorts of things. But I finally settled for those who seemed to have better innate regular magic to them, pony magic that is. And Ponyville has a lot of farmers and weather pegasus, a few them among our numbers, so I'm somewhat confident we have a fledgling magic-oriented team. We just haven't had the opportunity to test them yet."

Her voice seems a bit unfocused as she speaks, somewhat dreamy and droning. But when she finishes, she turns to look at Comet Feet who is sitting next to her. The large pegasus looks around, as if not entirely sure of what he is doing, before starting to talk as well.

"I've got almost nothing. Ponyville is too peaceful, and almost nopony in our cult proper has any affinity to the Edge. I have two, maybe three ponies who have the slightest clue of what to do, but that's it. Our cult almost entirely lacks muscle, and I'm considering going for other cities or hiring help if we need anything done. Although hiring would also involve at least going to a bigger town, where people looking for shady work might be. But for Ponyville itself, recruiting anypony for hard work is utterly fruitless."

He lets out some sort of gruff snort, and turns his head to face Starry Dancer.

"Oh, my turn? Well… I tried to work my way into the town hall for a few weeks, and I thought I had a shot at it. Well, a shot, until Velvet here came along!" she points at you excitedly, "she had a talk to the mayor and suddenly I became her personal assistant! I don't think I'm close enough to actually sway her, but I think she trusts me. At least enough to give me the copy of some keys, including the town hall and its archive!"

She nearly prances with excitement as she delivers her news, then turns to Copper Secateur.

"We are doing well, I'd say. I was far less subtle than I usually am, but Ponyville itself seems oblivious to it. But far more importantly, I think I found a group of ponies who I can train to help me look for conversion candidates. And since we are starting to move with purpose now, I suppose that working towards a web that can expand by itself is the obvious direction to go."

She then turns to Windy Flakes, and the unicorn seems to think for a while before he starts speaking softly.

"I don't have much to report, unfortunately… I do have a plan, I mean. We obviously need a better source of income for the cult, and a place we can gather more easily, but the problem is that initial push. This would be like trying to start an enterprise from scratch, and we simply don't have the bits for it. I did find a good place for it though, a building for sale to the south of Ponyville, distant from the more urban area and away from prying eyes, but still central enough to be a business location. But it is for sale, and we don't have the bits…"

He hits his hoofs lightly while thinking, the soft clopping sound echoing in the clearing.

"I have been entertaining thoughts about… convincing the owner of that building into being more generous," he lets out a wry smile, looking at Comet Feet.

But soon after, he is looking at you, and its your turn to report on your doings.

You open your mouth to speak, but you stop, and you finally feel what Jade Whistle must have felt from the beginning. The whole… forest seems to turn its attention to you. Dark trees seem to bend slightly in interest, the wind seems to howl just a little less as if to allow you to talk.

Your Master is listening, that much becomes crystal clear to you.

You pick your words carefully, and begin your own report.



[You must pick one of each category. Planned voting.]

[ ] On the dreamlands
-[ ] You have not found your any way to the Dreamlands.
-[ ] You have found a way to the Dreamlands, beyond the crossroads and towards the horizon.
-[ ] You have found a way to the Dreamlands and explored it, but found no evidence that Princess Luna is there.
-[ ] You have found a way to the Dreamlands and explored it, finding rescued dreams that confirm that Princess Luna is active in there. (This is the full truth for a report)

[ ] On Rarity
-[ ] There is no need to comment about meeting Rarity.
-[ ] You have met Rarity, a bearer of the Elements of Harmony, and believe that you are on good terms with her.
-[ ] You have met Rarity, an Element bearer, and found out she has a little sister. And that is exploitable.

[ ] On Twilight Sparkle
-[ ] There is no need to commend about meeting Twilight Sparkle.
-[ ] You have met Twilight Sparkle, the young mare who exorcised Nightmare Moon.
-[ ] You have met Twilight Sparkle and her pet dragon Spike, who seems to be small enough to be an easy target.

[ ] On your helping of Starry Dancer
-[ ] There is no need to talk about helping Starry Dancer.
-[ ] Highlight how helpful you were when helping Starry Dancer, gloating before your fellow advisors.

[ ] On your acquisitions
-[ ] There is no need to talk about your acquisitions.
-[ ] You have recently purchased an interesting curio that clearly hums with Heart, and you will study it.
-[ ] You have recently purchased an interesting curio of Heart, and will donate it to the Cult.

[ ] On your servants
-[ ] You have a stupid servant who cost you 19 bits on a stupid book, does anypony need a living body for a ritual?
-[ ] Just forgive him already.

[ ] On the Things that Stalk
-[ ] Keep that to yourself.
-[ ] Mention that there are dangers in the Dreamlands, but that you have no idea what they are.
-[ ] State that there are... things in the Dreamlands, and demand your Master explain what they are.
> Turn 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



You decide on a... professional (non)-disclosure, so to speak.
Obviously, you tell the full truth about the Dreamlands. You have found rescued dreams, so there is proof that Princess Luna is active there. You also decide to reveal the... dangers you have seen there.
You also mention that you met two mares, Rarity and Twilight Sparkle, over this last month. And, rather grudgingly, you decide to forgive your servant who lost you some bits.



It feels a bit like talking to yourself, and a lot like simply knowing that there is somepony right behind you, looking straight at the back of your head.

You think about choosing your words carefully, but in the end the choice is practically laid out before you. There is no reason to lie, and no proof that any lie won't be seen through when you think about it. You will just omit what is honestly unimportant and say your piece.

"I have located a way to the Dreamlands, and I am confident that I can show others how to get there," you start, "and I believe… No, rather, I am sure that Princess Luna is also active in there. I stumbled upon some dreams that have been… it's hard to know what word to use. Dreams that had suffered an intervention? Whatever it was, I haven't seen the Princess directly, nor have I ever felt her magic before, but I know that it was her doing."

You think back to your travel through the dreamlands, a soft tremor running through your body as you try to remember enough, but not too much.

"There are also things in the dreamlands… things I have never seen before," you hesitate, "I don't even know how to begin to describe them. They seemed to be made of solid smoke, and were trying to make their way into dreams, and…" you look at the other five ponies, each looking at you with a different expression between incredulity and curious attention, "whatever they were, whatever they are, take my advice for it. They are dangerous, or at the very least they are extremely wrong."

Wrong, that is the word you should have used from the start. No other description would have done any amount of justice. You force the memories to go somewhere else, not wanting to dally on it, and continue your report.

"Apart from that, I've also located two of the bearers of the Elements of Harmony. One of them is a white unicorn named Rarity, and I believe I am starting to get on good terms with her, but nothing too deep," you try to sound as neutral as possible on the matter, "the other is another unicorn, a purple one, Twilight Sparkle, who if I recall correctly was the leader on the Nightmare Moon situation. But I just met her in passing."

You see Copper raise an eyebrow and give you a curious nod.

"Apart from that, the only thing of interest is that I've acquired a curio that seems to be strong with Heart. I'll be studying it soon, to see if it yields any useful knowledge."

And with that, you finish your report, a sigh of relief leaving your lips before you realize it, as the pressure of the woods seem to lessen around you. The dark trees seem a little straighter now, the leaves a little bit more noisy. You no longer feel like you are near the center of someplace that isn't supposed to have any center at all.



Snap.



The six of you hear it, your heads turning towards the source of the sound, at the same time as some other part of your brains seem to wake up. A light buzz inside your heads, or at least your own, that isn't enough to annoy you, but is more than enough for you not to be able to forget it is there.

You think you hear the sound of a hoofstep, muffled by leaves, and you swear that you can almost see a shadow or a silhouette, but whenever you think you finally have your eyes on your Master, you realize you are looking at the bark of a tree, or the shadow of a stone, or something else with large wings.

"Follow," you hear, in that same un-same voice, heavy with secrets.

And without a word, the six of you stand up and head deeper into the Woods.

The forest grows progressively darker around you as you walk, and soon you cannot see any further than your own snout. You stumble through roots as often as you make straight steps, and the sound of brushes being forced aside and of short grunts and yelps of your fellow compatriots making their way near you soon fills your ears. The buzzing of the Woods itself seems to grow stronger as well, and you swear that you can feel something landing on your body a few times, but it is gone before you can swat it away.

You are sure that you would have lost yourself, being deeper in the Woods than you have ever been before, if it wasn't for the sound of your Master's voice guiding you.

"The news you bring are of both good and bad tidings", the voice comes from the blinding darkness, always just a few steps ahead of you. It has a curious property that doesn't seem to quite cut through the buzzing of the Woods, but rather that it use its cacophonous chorus to its advantage.

"Comet Feet, results must be presented whether if the base material is useful or not. Expand your search elsewhere if you believe to be adequate, or become yourself the only instrument that we will need. Do either, or seek a third choice, but soon will come the day when conflict will be the only solution."

A snap of a twig, dry and echoing, comes from a few hoofsteps ahead, marking the direction you must go. You nearly fall on your face as a root that wasn't there entangles one of your legs, but you quickly shake it off.

"Starry Dancer and Copper Secateur, expand your webs. There are agents of law in Ponyville who, despite being paltry themselves, serve as alarms to more dangerous foes. And we are still far from having followers on every corner and shadow of the town itself, so continue your strides in that direction."

"Windy Flakes, you too must present results. Our gatherings will soon see greater numbers and frequency, as more minds begin their searches for the truth. It won't do for us not to have a suitable location for such."

A leaf that feels like both paper and fur brushes against your face, making you close your eyes in reflex, and it is only several steps later that you realize you are no longer tripping over roots, and that the moonlight is bathing you once again.

"Jade Whistle and Velvet Covers… the six of you must look carefully now, but this knowledge will also be relevant to the next step you two in particular must take."

You blink a few more times, the soft moonlight somehow coming as a glare for a few moments, until your eyes adjust, and you can take a proper look at your surroundings.

The place is too large to be a clearing, so perhaps "opening" would be a more adequate term. The Woods are all around you and you can see it in the distance, but its borders are far away. You have the impression that this is the imitation of a gap in a forest in which you would find a lake, but as expected you see no such thing, only black dirt covered in leaves.

The Mansus itself is also far, you can see its floating stairs and connected floors in the distance, the Glory itself a pinprick against the darkness of the night. You are farther away from it than you think you have walked, although you know such a thing means little within this place.

But one thing is for sure. You know you will never be able to find your way back here again, unless your Master guides you once more.

"The secrets that you are learning, although there was a time they were not secrets, are undeniable, and there is a cause for that," you look around, and realize the voice is coming from underneath a large crooked rock, twisted and twice as tall as Comet Feet, the shadow underneath it not allowing you to see any trace of your Master.

"If you drop a rock, it falls to the ground," the voice continues, as the wind gains strength around you, pushing leaves towards the air, "if you scrape the correct branches of wood or hit certain rocks in the proper way, there will you see sparks that may start a fire."

The wind continues to grow in strength, leaves and dust and feathers and other things spiraling around the six of you in a dizzying pattern as your Master's voice speaks faster and faster.

"But there were times when the falling of rocks was beyond the comprehension of ponies, and the mysteries of fire were a secret of power. And much like the ponies from long ago struggled to master them, so to do you struggle to master the things which surround you within this place. But the Mansus has its laws, and they are as undeniable as gravity and fire… and due to the Mansus' connection to ponykind, those laws can be invoked in the Wake. The six of you do it every time, whenever your knowledge of Lore proves to be useful."

The wind slowly dies out, and you can see that the leaves formed a curious pattern on the floor around the six of you. Almost like a circle, but with each leaf carefully positioned in relation to each other, each branch and feather a line or inscription that you think you can write down in a way that will almost make sense.

"And even greater laws may be called upon in the Wake, if you but learn how to invoke them properly. This circle that you see around you is the very cornerstone of such a ritual, and it is enough to invoke only a single aspect of Lore. The six of you will learn to use it well, but for the two of you, Velvet Covers and Jade Whistle, there are greater tasks that involve this knowledge…"

The voice disappears from underneath the shadow of the crooked rock, this time appearing to come from nowhere at all, almost like a whisper.

"Jade Whistle, ensure that your followers are adept in performing this simple version of the ritual, for you and your followers will be called for when the time comes."

"And Velvet Covers… the knowledge that the alicorn Luna is active in the Dreamlands is most troubling, for it reveals that her mind is recuperating, and that bodes ill for us. In order to gain access to her dreams, however, we will need to perform a ritual capable of summoning two aspects of Lore. The patterns of that ritual are written in the very walls of the Mansus, should you reach it beyond the Woods. Or, you might find it written in books of old, transcribed by ponies who echoed down into ink what they could not understand. Whichever source you seek, it is instrumental that you secure that knowledge soon, lest the alicorn once again stokes the flames within herself, and the sight of her becomes blinding for us."

And with that final whisper echoing in the air, the voice disappears, gone from the edge of the Woods in which it seemed to dance for a little while, leaving the six of you alone.

You are not sure how long the six of you poured over the intricate pattern of leaves and dark sand, but you know that it will no longer escape your memory. The same way you know that as soon as you leave that place, a gust of wind will cause it to disappear as if it had never existed.

And after the six of you are done communing among yourselves on your next steps, you each go your separate ways. There would be no way to leave that place, except by going back into the Woods that surround you, and that would surely entail in each of you becoming lost.

And becoming lost, you know, is something one must do alone.





You wake up in your room.

Except that you don't.

You can feel it, the soft cushion underneath your body, the weight of your covers over you, the warm feeling of your husband next to you. Your whole body tells you that you are in your bed, and that you will see the same thing you always see every morning as soon as you open your eyes.

But something else, in your mind, tells you that you're not there.

Something else tells you that the life you are about to wake up to is but a dream, and you are not fully asleep yet to reach it.



"You saw them, didn't you?"



You hear a voice. That voice. Contemplating, wise, but with a tinge of curiosity that you are not used to hearing it carry.



"The things in the dreamlands, you saw them shuffling around, didn't you? Thirsting for the light that comes from ponykind, lusting for that spark of warmth. They are not from… around here, as you might have noticed. Quite abominable indeed…" you almost think you hear a chuckle.



Yes, you did see them. But what are those things? Why are they in the Dreamlands?

Where the hell did they come from?



"Oh, you mean you didn't realize it? You didn't notice it?" the voice seems almost surprised, "well, it does make a bit of sense actually… It would be asking a bit too much for you to do."



What do you mean you didn't realize? Didn't notice what?!

Hey! I'm talking to you!



"Do not worry, for you will learn. You must learn, in fact, if you are to understand. But just so you know…" you can feel a smile creeping on the voice, "the alicorns are ancient beings, and they know things that they sometimes choose to forget. Old things. Secret things. But if we reach the dreams of the alicorn Luna, though our goal in there will be another, we might just come upon such tidbits of knowledge, don't you think?"

"So do work towards it, Velvet Covers. You do have potential."



You feel a push, a soft sensation on the middle of your chest that seems to reactivate gravity. Your body suddenly feels far heavier upon your cushion, the blankets over you feel heavy enough to almost be smothering you.

And your husband is snoring, you realize with an annoyed thought as you finally open your eyes.





You have walked deeper into the Woods than you have ever before, and found a secret place that you will never reach again. That is the nature of the Woods, and this realization has somehow opened your eyes. Gained 1 scrap of MOTH Lore.

MOTH Lore is now level 2!

Maybe your Master is satisfied, maybe he is disappointed, maybe he just wishes for you to see. But regardless, the secret he whispered in your ear was like a small candlelight in a dark room. Gained 1 scrap of LANTERN Lore.

Your Master is now willing to whisper scraps of the second Level, you may now learn any Lore up to level 3 under her… him?
> Turn 3 - Results, part 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



After the meeting with your Master, and listening to his (her?) words, you decided on your course of action.
Throughout this month, you will dedicate your nights to trying to reach the Mansus. After all, rather than ancient libraries or forgotten ruins, the key for the greater rituals must surely lie there.
And in the Wake, you will focus on your studies. As well as spend more time with Rarity, your newfound friend.
But of course, the growth of the Cult means you have a few more facilities to call upon. In particular, you will be able to perform a ritual, "The Attention of the Laws", without any cost, either in time or bits. At least once a month. And that is a small, but noticeable, boost to one of your Lore-abilities, even if it is only a single-use thing. So, naturally, you will begin your month doing that.



The bell mounted over the door chimes softly as you enter. The sound itself is unfamiliar, since you usually come and go when the place is still closed and the bell is not properly set, but not unfamiliar enough to surprise you.

"Velvet! Lovely to see you today. Come to take your daughter's usual dose?"

And the place's owner, Windy Flakes, immediately greets you, three sets of chairs floating with the soft glow of his horn. As usual he is alone, has a smile on his face, and, despite his polite tone and pleasant words, sounds like he is trying to be marginally insufferable on purpose.

"That too," you answer, wondering as always if it was just a good natured question or something else, "but I'm here for other things as well". You look around, the ingrained habit of not wanting to be overheard coming as second nature, "Jade Whistle mentioned she'd have it ready by today?"

You know the unicorn runs his shop alone, but there is still no reason not to be roundabout when it comes to discussing certain subjects.

"Have 'it' ready…? Whatever you mean by it?" the unicorn looks at you slightly puzzled, setting the floating chairs down and rubbing his chin.

What the hell does he mean with…

"You know… that?" you say with a bit more of intensity, "the thing we talked about last time we met? That she said she'd make sure she would have set up and all?"

Windy Flakes narrows his eyes, as if trying his hardest to remember.

"Oh!" until his eyes finally lighten up, "you mean the secret underground room where she carved the sigils for us to do our occult rituals? Of course, how could I forget!" he says with a brilliant smile, making your hair go on edge and your eyes jump to the entrance door. "Why, we needed to dig out a whole new room down there. But earth ponies sure can be industrious when they set their hoofs to it."

You reel at his cheeriness, your eyes going wide for a few more seconds as you wait for the front door to be bust open by a wide-eyed passerby pony that definitely heard everything. It takes a few moments for your heart rate to go back down, and your expression turn into a scowl.

Of course he is pulling your leg.

"Well then, you know the way," he says absentmindedly, going back to arranging the place for another day of work.

And you don't even deign him with an answer, making your way to the back room.





But Windy Flakes was not joking about how industrious earth ponies are, that much is for sure.

You can see a bit of his own intent. The underground storage has not been through an overhaul by any means, and it is clear that he has no intention of failing when it comes to moving this whole operation somewhere else, but a good amount of work has still been put here.

The small corridor you reach, as soon as you finish your trek down the stairs to the underground, is now lit by a small candle. You can see up ahead a door that wasn't there last time you were here, surely to prevent the deeper parts of the storage, where the cult meets, to be touched by any kind of light, especially that candle's. But another addition, the one you came here for, is right beside you.

You open the simple wooden door with a flick of magic, and a small room reveals itself to you. It's only large enough to barely fit the circle, its lines practically dug into the ground with painstaking precision. Being a unicorn you can't rightly imagine how much effort that must have taken for Jade Whistle, her being an earth pony, but that's just another reminder that the three pony races are truly equal, horn or no horn on their foreheads.

A small hole dug on the wall reveals the supplies you need, as well as some basic instructions that, although you learned all you needed in your dreams, you still double-check. A few more candles and a mirror float your way, as is proper when invoking Lantern, and you set about your task.

Thinking about it rationally, you can't help but realize how strange this whole affair is, in perspective. Here you are, a grown mare who already has a daughter, in a dug underground room underneath an ice cream parlor, setting about candles and mirrors for a "magic ritual" that doesn't involve even the slightest glow of your horn. By all logic you shouldn't be there, and by all other arguments this so called ritual shouldn't even work.

But after you are finished, you can't help but to notice that your own image looks just a bit more detailed in your own eyes. You can't help but to see that the candle outside of the room, after you leave, seems to be just a bit brighter. The whole world does, in fact.

And as you make your way back home, the rising sun having barely lifted from the horizon, you can't help but to admit that whatever you did in that room undoubtedly worked.









[But who is with Rarity today?]

[Rolling…]

[That's quite a high roll actually]



You know those eyes. They are the eyes of somepony who is pleading. The eyes of a pony who can't directly say what she wants, but in all other aspects is begging you to confirm what you just said, to reaffirm that it is not a lie or a colorful prank.

That what you said really is true.

"And…" she asked again, hesitantly, "are you absolutely sure you won't need my help, Mrs. Velvet?"

You are sure that a crueler pony would have smirked at that. But to be honest, this whole thing is actually making you worry a bit.

Soft Sweeps is practically teary-eyed before you. She has the hoof trembling of somepony who had just been released from some terrible fate, and you think that the mare would have broken down and hugged you if not for some personal resilience from her.

"Yes, Soft Sweeps, I'll be going out with Silky and there's no need for you to come with us…", you say once more, and watch as she lets out a long sigh of relief, tension clearly leaving her from underneath her maid uniform. "And Soft Sweeps… is everything alright? Is Silky Stream being a hoof-full or someth-"

"Not at all Mrs. Velvet!" the mare quickly interrupts you, causing you to raise an eyebrow, "I have no problems at all taking care of the young miss. Not. At. All!"

The mare quickly gives you a full bow, wings spread and all, as she hurriedly stammers about something she has to go take care of, since you have "so graciously" relieved her for the day, and is out through an open window before you can so much open your mouth to answer.

She literally flew off, still in her maid uniform and all.

"That's… actually worrying…" you say out loud, blinking a few times before forcing yourself to shrug at it. Whatever it is, it's not something you will be able to take care of right now.

You turn around, and start heading to your room, after all you have to get ready to go out.





You are starting to get accustomed to Ponyville, or at least with the center of the town. You have already walked these streets enough times, between your book-sorties, leisure walks and regular cult-going, that they aren't that strange to you anymore.

In fact, when you stop to consider it, this place is probably more familiar to you now than Canterlot was. When you think back to it, the only thing you remember is spending a lot of time practically locked inside your own house, watching chariots pass by the streets from the window next to your bed.

Thank heavens you had books for company…

"Mom! Look, look!", you hear Silky Stream shout, and you look up to see her zip straight ahead of you, doing a long loop in the air and reorienting herself.

It's not exactly comfortable to have a flying daughter, especially when you can't run well and your husband is not in sight. But you get a lot less nervous now than you used to, whenever you see Silky flying, and she is actually turning out to be quite a good flyer.

Granted, she's not flying that high, she doesn't fly any higher than your magic can reach at least. But for all the worried part of your mind cares she might as well be a black dot obfuscated by the sun, and both out of instinct and rationality you always keep a bit of energy at the base of your horn, ready for some flash-levitation magic in case she comes falling to the ground.

Just in case.

"Did you see that?! I'm learning to do loops!" she says excitedly, flying down towards you, beaming with pride.

"That's my little acrobat. You'll be flying circles around your father in no time," you say with a smile, straightening her wind-ruffled mane with a bit of magic, "but where did you learn that? I haven't seen your father teach you that one yet."

"It was with the other foals in school! They dared me that I am too young to do any upside-down flying, so I went up the school roof during recess and showed them I can!" she says, all smiles.

And you smile in return. You are sure that quite a few red flags passed you by just now, and that you just heard a few things that if anypony else had told you it would have resulted in quite a few glares, harsh words and other consequences.

But you just can't get mad at your daughter. Not when she's showing so much potential!

"And everypony was really impressed!" Silky went on, "especially Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara. Oh, they are two girls I've been talking to, and then-"

You feel good about this. All of this. Walking with your daughter on a sunny day, hearing her talk about her studies, and making friends in school, and all the other little things you know that makes all the difference. You know very well what a gilded cage feels like, and you will make sure that your daughter is as free as a bird.

You are especially glad about hearing of those two fillies. Their names were Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, right? They surely sound like good little girls, with whom you absolutely would like your daughter to be friends with.

"-so miss Cheerilee said we will all be working together for the next assignment!" your daughter finishes, practically prancing at this point, her little wings threatening to swoop her up and away.

"That's wonderful Silky," you nod back at her. Despite your idle thinking you really were paying attention to what she said, "and look, there's the place I said we are going today," you point at the Carrousel Boutique, that just appeared before the two of you.

You see her eyes light up at the colorful (and aptly named) building, but you give her another satisfied nod when she doesn't simply flash ahead to explore it. You're not so sure, though, if she would have the same willpower if you took her to that strange cake-shaped bakery.

The same soft bell rings when you open the door, and you let Silky Stream go in first. You hear her let out a small impressed "whoa" and she immediately, albeit slowly you note, flies towards one of the elegantly dressed mannequins.

Another small swell of pride goes through your chest. As much as she might be energetic, it is still good to see that she has a taste for refinement. She will also turn into a proper lady, no doubt! With these thoughts in mind you go deeper into the boutique, your daughter surely wont touch a thing while you aren't looking.

And not long after, you hear a worrying, gasping sound coming from deeper within the store.

Is somepony… chocking?

"Rarity I… really don't think… you need to do th-… is!" you hear what definitely is a choking pony, gasping for air as she tries to speak between ragged breaths. A few, several, chilling scenarios run through your head as you wonder what the hell is going on there.

You stick closer to one of the several veils that separates the different fashion-themed areas of the store, your heartbeat suddenly quickening as adrenaline starts to flow through your body. Your casual walking turns into alert stalking in a fraction of a second, and you slowly inch your way towards the source of the sound.

"Oh darling, I told you it's the least I can do! Besides, Pinkie already told you she throws a party for every new pony in town, right? What's wrong with me taking a few measurements of one of my best friends?"

Until you hear Rarity's voice, answering in a perfectly normal tone, and your adrenaline immediately deserts you. You let out a long sigh of relief. Whatever were you thinking that could be going on in there?

You take a few deep breaths to recompose yourself, and once again casually walk to the source of the conversation.

"Excuse me, Rarity? Oh, am I interrupting anything?" you poke your head through one of the coat-hanger rich corners, and you immediately understand what is going on.

"Velvet Covers? Come on in dear, you're not interrupting anything at all!"

Rarity greets you with a warm smile, a stark contrast to the other pony by her side.

"And hello there Twilight Sparkle. Uhm... good afternoon?" you ask, unsure on how to properly greet her.

The purple unicorn seems… well, you settle on "distressed" for lack of better word. But a more accurate description would be that she is bound. Literally bound. She is wearing a corset, an extremely tight corset, with several measuring tapes floating around her. You can also see various rolls of fabric next to her, shades of purple close at hand for comparison, as well as several notes in fresh ink close to Rarity.

On closer inspection, the binding of the corset is still being held close by Rarity's glowing magic, so maybe saying Twilight is "wearing it" isn't as specific as saying she is being "forced into it".

"After… noon" she attempts to answer, and you're not quite sure how to react.

"There darling, all done," Rarity says, after unwinding one last measuring tape from Twilight's hip, and un-magicking the corset, "it was just your basic measurements Twilight, I told you it would take no time at all," she calmly continues, carefully writing down one last set of numbers on her notes.

Twilight Sparkle on her part, at least, seems too busy catching her breath to answer.

"Are you alright?" you ask her tentatively. She clearly is not used to that sort of thing.

"I am," she finally answers after a few more seconds, "just another thing I don't think I've done since I was a filly, that's all."

"Well, I'm starting to think that Rarity might be a bit overzealous when it comes to her dressmaking," you say with a smirk, "or at least I'm pretty sure measure-taking isn't supposed to be so… intense."

You manage to get a smile out of her, and the two of you look towards the other unicorn as she finishes some scribbling on one of her notes and starts putting away the rolls of purple cloth.

"I suppose you're right. And by the way, have you known Rarity for a long time? You two seem to know each other."

"Well, I wouldn't quite say a long time, but it's hard not to connect with her passion," you say, and see her give a short nod, "and I suppose you don't know her for that long either? I think I recall you saying you are from Canterlot when we met in the library?"

"That's right, we met during the preparations for the Summer Sun Festival, and it's… a bit of a long story," she says with a bit of an awkward smile. Of course, you know that "long story" very well, "but before that I was too busy studying in Canterlot at the School of Magic so…"

Your eyes go wide for a moment, did she just casually name-dropped the…?

"The School of Magic? You mean Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns?" you ask, your tone going high to the surprised side, causing her to blush slightly for a moment.

Well, you do know that she is Princess Celestia's pupil, but that sort of thing is like a distant title like "being a noble" or something like that. As much as it seems obvious in hindsight, knowing that she went to that school strikes much closer to home on how incredibly talented she must be.

It strikes particularly close to home, in fact, since your parents forced you to attempt (and fail) the admission test multiple times, up until you were too old for the maximum age requirement.

"Good heavens, that school is for genius unicorns, isn't it? I've met unicorns in university that could do less magic than some of the youngest students in there," your thoughts finish escaping through your mouth before you can finally reign them in again.

But not before Twilight is clearly blushing furiously, wearing that embarrassed smile of somepony who doesn't know of how much they are capable of.

It once again strikes you how young this mare is, but you do believe you are starting to get a read on her.

"Oh darling, Twilight here is a genius, and don't let anypony tell you otherwise," Rarity suddenly joins the conversation, putting an foreleg around Twilight in a side hug.

The purple mare, on her part, honestly doesn't know how to react.

"Well, when you put it that way… But wait," Twilight's eyes suddenly light up, her embarrassment quickly forgotten, "did you say you go to university?"

"I, uh… well, yes. Why?"

"I've always dreamed of going to university!" she says, surprising the two of you with her sudden excitement, "I mean, I still dream about it, but I'm living in Ponyville in order to do research and all... But I mean, just think about it! The studying, all those advanced books, and you actually have to make a thesis to graduate, don't you?"

You look at Rarity, who seems as puzzled as you.

"Yes, but… isn't that the same of what you did… in the School of Magic?" you suppress the 'what you did your whole life?' part of the question, but you can see that Rarity picked up on it.

"Of course not! Up until now I've only ever studied and learned. University is the place where ponies actually expand on those subjects, where they create new things! Some of the best books I've read were based on the graduating thesis of those ponies."

The two of you look at Twilight as she keeps excitedly talking about the merits of "the pursuit of higher education", as she said, and you can't help to think that deep down that part of her is quite endearing.

"Mommy? Ah, found you!"

Until you are all interrupted by your daughter, her eyes still looking around in wonder.

"I'm glad you enjoyed your stay so far Silky," you say with a smile, ushering her closer to you, "these are Rarity and Twilight Sparkle. And Rarity here is going to help us find a dress for me and you today."

Your daughter exchanges some well behaved greetings with the two mares, and Twilight stays for a while longer before she excuses herself, and Rarity can focus solely on the two of you.





You really don't see what all the fuss was about. Twilight, you come to the conclusion, clearly was just not used to it.

You are on top of a slightly raised one-pony podium, with several measuring tapes surrounding you, gently floating in blue auras. Granted, Rarity didn't bring out the corset on you, but you like to think that you're slim enough that it wont be needed, even at your (not at all important, thank you very much) age.

Silky Stream is calmly sitting on the other side of the room, watching as you are measured, posed and sometimes prodded by the white unicorn.

"Oh, this is going to be such a delight," she says, both to herself and to you as she brings out a few samples of cloth for color comparison, "clothing for younger ponies have really different focuses than for grown mares, not to mention that she is a pegasus, but I have some ideas that I think you'll find wonderful."

"I can't even begin to imagine how you'll pull this off," you say, with some honest flattery, "but I'll be sure to follow whatever you say is best. As long as Silky over there likes it as well, of course," you say, giving both ponies a short wink.

"Mom looks pretty in anything," your daughter replies, crossing her forelegs as if stating the obvious.

You and Rarity both let out a few short laughs.

"Now Velvet, I was thinking about something a bit shorter," she says thoughtfully, "something like a summer view. But how short are you used to having your dresses?"

You let out a small "oh" as the conversation inevitably reaches the point you knew it would. But, like you had concluded not long ago, you like Rarity. She is an elegant and refined mare, and clearly is extremely professional.

So what harm is there in sharing a secret among friends?

"Rarity, could you come with me for a moment?" you ask, stepping down from the podium, and going to a place with less… mirrors.

Its not exactly a secret, and its not something your daughter does not know about either. But it's also not something you see the necessity to parade around… You don't like to think about it as discomfort, but as having elegance about it.

"Is there a problem? Did you not like the summer idea or something?"

"It's nothing, really. Just something I'd like you to keep in mind, since we are still taking measures and all."

Rarity gives you a puzzled look as you turn your right side to her, and gently undo the subtle knotting that keeps the skirt of your dress firmly in place, over your flank.

"What is… oh dear Celestia!" she gasps, eyes wide and hoofs going to her mouth as honest shock overtakes her features.

You are only very slightly uncomfortable about her reaction, but to tell the truth you are far more glad that you're not seeing revulsion in her eyes, as you have seen… in other circumstances. That really goes to show that she has a good heart.

"Oh darling Velvet, how…? what…? Oh I'm so sorry about it, I had no idea!"

"Rarity," you say calmly, redoing the knots of the bindings with a flick of magic while you walk towards her, "it's fine. Really."

"But I mean, you don't even show any sign that-"

"Exactly," you interrupt her, "and since this doesn't change my life in the slightest, there's no reason to make a big deal about it. I'm just letting you know because you are my friend, and because this isn't the sort of thing I can omit to my trusty couturier, is it?" you say with a mischievous and well humored wink.

You slowly talk the shock out of her, as you see her surprise slowly turn into some other feeling, that finally seems to settle in the form of determination.

"Well then, in that case we'll go for an autumn look," she says decidedly, "two sets of long flowery dresses, and they will be fabulous!"

"That's what I wanted to hear," you smile, "although wouldn't Silky look cuter in a shorter dress? It might also help her when she definitely tries to fly in it" you say with a laugh.

And the two of you go back to the measurements, idly chatting as Silky Stream watches.



[The cost of beauty]

[Rolling 30 + 2d10 = 39 bits]





I gotta say, I'm surprised at the dice's interest in advancing both of those niches of friendship. Bumping into an Element bearer is a not a high chance on the list, yet you met Rarity on your first try back then. And now re-meeting Twilight herself on this second roll, which had a good chance of being "Rarity is alone" since it's a social action aimed at her (and Sweetie Belle) specifically, is…

Rarity is now a good friend of yours! You two go along well, and you have shared a personal secret with her, the bond between the two of you growing deeper.

Although you were not focused on it, you have spent enough time with Rarity to notice she would have affinity with GRAIL, as well as some other Lore...

You are no longer acquaintances with Twilight Sparkle, you are now friends! You think you are getting a better read on the young mare, with all things academic apparently sparking her interest.
> Turn 3 - Results, part 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You like to think of yourself as an efficient mare.

You have already studied a lot in your life, and as time passed you learned how to read even when you're not really interested in the subject. But this time, this is not the case. Well, you might be a bit uninterested in the "frontal" subjects of these books, but your focus isn't on the content of the books themselves. Not their superficial content, at least. Instead, you're facing them as you would face a puzzle. What small realizations can you have from them, you wonder? What secrets does a common writer know, even if he doesn't realize it, and put into paper almost subconsciously?

The more you look for those kinds of things, the more you begin to notice them, and it is being no different while reading these books. To the point where you have to admit that the slight fears of being paranoid, or downright hallucinating, would be creeping up your spine.

If the results weren't so undeniable, that is.



[KNOCK book – level 1, cd 60]

[Roll: 66 + 10 (level 1 source) + 5 (LANTERN bonus) + 12 (Learning) + 5 (Well Read) = 98]

[FORGE book – level 1, cd 50]

[Roll: 1 + 10 (level 1 source) + 5 (LANTERN bonus) + 12 (Learning) + 5 (Well Read) = 33]

[Rolled a 1, critical failure. Rolling malus.]



The story about the young thief was somewhat pleasant. Not the best you've ever read, but not the worst either, and the viewpoint of a pony who makes an art about entering places is a bit intriguing. intriguing enough for you to take some notes, that is.

Not of his methods, those were too fantastic. Instead, it was his personal philosophy that made you raise an eyebrow once or twice.

Now, the book about repairing utensils…

"There's no way to sugarcoat it", you say to yourself, "this thing is totally useless!".

The "book" is literally a catalog for sales, to the point where you wonder what made you think it was a manual of anything to begin with. Well, to your slight merit at least the word "manual" is written on the cover.

But…

"Manual for Useful Unicorn Utensils…" you bring the book closer to your inspection, noticing a thin line of text on its side that you hadn't noticed before, "something something… by the Flim & Flam book press…?"

A quick flash of annoyance goes through your head, and the book finds its way to a trash bin shortly after.



Gained one KNOCK scrap of Lore.

The FORGE book, however, was just a waste of bits.





And now, to find out what this curio is about, that is, if there really are any secrets to it and you didn't just waste a great deal of bits on nothing.

You have your servants bring the rug into your office and spread it open on the floor. The large and mysteriously furred thing raises some eyebrows, but nothing more. Just a small eccentricity by their otherwise perfectly reasonable lady. Your official statement is that you just want to see how it will go with your room, and if you will be able to work with the slightly distracting thing there.

But after your servants excuse themselves, their task done, you make sure to lock the door behind them. You do intent to get some work done, but not paperwork.

Now, how do you get about studying this thing?

First of all, you don't know the first thing about Heart. You know of Heart, of course, that it exists as a principle, but when it comes to its influence and promises you only have educated guesses, not facts.

But you have not come unprepared.

It is still morning, the sun still moving towards the topmost part of the skies. Light is abundant and you can see clearly. But not as clearly as you think you will need to.

You open the windows wide, you even fold the blinders over themselves so they will make as little shadows as possible, you readjust every single reflective surface in the room so they will guide the light of the sun your way, even the small metal beak of your writing pen. When you are satisfied, you sit on the floor, in front of the carpet, and close your eyes.

And you whisper a few words. The same words you whispered before the mirrors and candles a few days ago.

You open your eyes once more.

And now your vision is a bit clearer.



[HEART Artifact – Level 3, cd 50]

[Roll: 28 + 12 (Learning) + 10 (LANTERN bonus, doubled) + 30 (level 3 source) = 80]



First of all, it is incredibly soft, but that isn't something you notice with your eyes.

What you do notice, while you are walking over it, is that the furs on its surface seem to move slightly as your hoofs go over them. You think it's something akin to static, at first, until you realize that the furs are moving slightly away from your hoof just before you touch the carpet, instead of moving towards you.

If they were extremely thin, perhaps, then maybe you could believe that it was the minute air pressure that your hoofsteps were making, just before impacting against the carpet. But the hairs of the unknown beast are too thick for that, so you quickly discard the idea.

You walk in circles, observing the curious movements of the carpet in relation to your body. Minute details to a regular pony's eyes, but jarringly clear to your Lantern-blessed sight.

Until you stop, realizing that the "openings" of the fur in the rug are appearing before your hoofs even leave their previous place now. You crouch down and observe the unprompted reaction from the supposedly (although you now have serious doubts) inanimate object. It's obvious that the thing is magic, as much as it is obvious that it is old. But maybe it also has a will of its own?

And if it does, maybe you should take its suggestion?

You quit your idle strolling over the soft rug, instead stepping specifically where the openings appear. You notice that the hoof-shaped apertures are a perfect fit for your own, as well as the fact that another opening formed a bit ahead as soon as you stepped on this one, and you soon find yourself going about an elaborate path that gets more and more complex.

Five steps forward, reach a hoof back, a short prance to reach that one, a quick jump to the middle of the carpet.

It takes you a good few minutes to finally realize three things: that you are smiling, that you are dancing, and that your hindleg has not protested at all despite the considerable amount of jumping that you have been doing for a while now.

In fact, you don't even feel tired at all. You feel reinvigorated, if anything, and that causes you to snap back to yourself in a moment of clarity.

"You had me for a while just now, didn't you?", you say to the carpet, half expecting it to answer with some sort of fur-opening writing on its surface.

But no answer comes, a bit to your disappointment.

Still, this will be particularly useful. The thing itself seems to be safe, although you will make sure to have it stored. You don't exactly want to get to your office and realize Ponpon had been dancing in it for hours when she was supposed to be cleaning the place. That, and you will have to test if you can actually sleep on the thing, without any weird sleepwalking-dancing happening.

But for now, it seems you found yourself a neat way to recuperate yourself, if that ever becomes needed.



Gained 2 HEART scraps of Lore.

HEART Lore is now level one!

Artifact property discovered: +30 on tests to recuperate health or cure lasting debuffs, if the artifact is available for use.





Later that day, you receive word from one of your servants, he leaves a short list on your table and excuses himself.

[Book Hunting – Servant roll]

[Roll: 5 + 12 (Learning) = 17]

[ ] A small book that covers a particular kind of elegant dancing, HEART Level 1 – costs 7 bits









You can't help but to feel a little bit excited. Not in a giddy and happy way, but in a sort of adrenalized way, a sharp way. Like when you know that you are about to try something dangerous, that you have never tried before, but that you want to do. Something that you need to do.

The crossroads stretch themselves before you, their maddening paths appearing to go on forever, it is a sight you know well now.

You stride with purpose through them, as you always have, choosing the paths that seem to snake around themselves, and the paths that at first glance appear to take you the wrong way, and the connection between parallel paths that you know will disappear if you so much as blink before you step on them. By now you can already make those choices almost by instinct, for you know that the way that leads to the Woods must be as confusing as the forest itself.

And soon enough, the blue-stoned bricks give way to root and leaf and darkness.

And now comes the time for you to do something you never did before.

The Mansus itself appears to be far away, the floating structure looming over the Woods although you do not recall ever finding yourself under its shadow. And worst of all, you also don't recall ever seeing any stairs that lead to it either. Those stairs must surely be within the Woods, if they exist at all, but at first glance the task of finding them seems to be the equivalent of finding a needle in a haystack.

But you also remember your first time on the crossroads, and how the paths made no sense back then, and how you woke up again and again and again after fruitless nights of walking on an eternal path that led nowhere. But once you learned the laws of the crossroads its paths became less confusing, to the point that today they take you where you wish to go, as a straight path might lead an experienced traveler.

What happened, you realize now, is not that you have mastered the crossroads, but that you merely came to understand them.

So likewise, you conclude, you need not master the Woods, you merely need to understand it as well. Although trying to understand the Woods is a contradiction, as the place is prone to its own whims, and chaos seems to be in its very nature.

But perhaps that's the secret to it, you think. Maybe, and just maybe, that particular contradiction is all you need if what you are aiming for is the correct way out of the Woods.



[The path through the Woods is understanding nothing at all, CD 70]

[Roll: 36 + 11 (Intrigue) + 20 (MOTH Level 2) + 5 (SECRET HISTORIES bonus) = 72]



"The Mansus exists", you recall the tidbits of whispers you once heard from your cult's Master, "and the Woods grow around and under it". But you doubt that the way into the Mansus lies at the center of the Woods, if there even is a center to this place.

Still, if your Master is to be believed, countless other adepts and secret-keepers have already made their way into the Mansus, some of them even scaling high into it. All of them trying to reach for the Glory, that incandescent beacon of magnificence that lies at its summit. But how did they do it? What guided their hoofs through the tortuous branches that surround you?

What else, if not that which they desired?

You look around you, faded moonlight struggling to reach your eyes as it battles its way through branches and leaves and winged things, barely enough for you to be able to see the next tree ahead of you, and you notice for the first time the distinct absence of another light?

Where is the Glory?

Its bright light can be seen even from the horizon, on the crossroads, and its entrancing luminosity can charm you even on the edge of the Woods, if you look at it too intently before daring the darkness before you. But why can't you see it here, when you should be closer to it than even before?

Because the Woods engulf it, you realize. Perhaps it does so in order to protect it, perhaps it lusts for its light, perhaps the Woods feed on it as normal trees might feed from the sun, or perhaps there is no real answer. But the Woods are a part of the Mansus as well, and the whole of this place revolves around the glory. So the path you must take, you realize, surely is the one where the trees grow thicker, where the darkened barks of wood become larger and less inviting, and where the branches grow long enough to almost block your passage, for much like yourself the Woods reach out for the Glory. You will have to force your way through the unyielding hoofs of the Woods itself if you are to make your way to the place where it cannot reach.

With this newfound resolve in your mind, you force your way through the Woods. You walk over and under the large roots of large trees, and blindly grope your way through utter darkness, and forge your way through the deafening buzzing of wings.

Until your hoofs finally touch solid ground again, the sensation almost alien when compared to the jagged and uneven root-covered dirt that you have grown so used to. This new sensation, you realize, is the same that you feel when on the crossroads.

You recognize it even in the total darkness in which you are right now. You are stepping on that dark-blue stone. On Mansus-stone.

You follow it until you nearly trip at a higher block, which you carefully trace with your hoof, and a smile crosses your lips as you realize it.

These are stairs.

You make your way upwards, one careful step at a time, forcing your body through the branches at the high parts of the trees, even as they feel like they are scratching at you, jealously trying to stop you from reaching where they cannot. But soon you are free even from that, and for the first time in a long while you can see again, and you see the Woods as an endless sea of treetops, all around you, the lonely stairs on which you stand spearing upwards and away from it.

You take a deep breath of the cold air, feeling the permanent buzzing inside your head recede as you ascend farther and farther away from the Woods. You know that you are sufficiently far from it when you finally remember that this is all still a dream, and that it is not air that you are breathing.

And before long, at a height where you can still distinguish the individual treetops below you, you reach the end of the stairs.

A grand vista opens itself before you, as what was an endless ceiling of Mansus-stone far above your head becomes the ground where you now stand. You have never been so close to the Mansus before, and now you can see its complex magnificence more clearly. Stairs, hundreds, thousands, countless, form haphazard paths between entire floors that appear to be floating, most of which you can see only the underside of. You can have no sense of space or size, not from the low level where you are standing, but for some reason your mind insists that some of the floating floors are as large as the horizon, while others appear to be as small as simple rooms, at the same time that all of them puzzlingly fit within your eyesight and within the boundaries of the Mansus.

You can see the Glory, high up at its very top, in a place where all the paths converge, illuminating all of the rooms and floors and stairs and corners, and you turn your gaze away, having learned not to stare at it directly.

And before you, you see a sight that is intriguing on its own. A grand plain stretches before your eyes, and but a few steps in front of you the Mansus-stone of the floor gives way instead to cold grass, wet from some recent rain.

You see, far in the distance, stairs that appear to connect that plain to some higher level, as well as paths that appear to lead to other places, but all of them are out of your reach.

After all, right in front of you at the end of the stairs, stands a Door.

And although there might be other paths into the Mansus, you know that this is the only one that is available to you.



[You have reached the Blank Door]

[Divining the secrets of the Blank Door, CD 70]

[Roll: 31 + 0 (WINTER Level 0) + 12 (Learning) + 5 (LANTERN bonus) = 48, failed]



It is not a door on itself, it looks more like a portal. An open arch of Mansus-stone that divides the end of the stairs and the grassed plains beyond it. You think you can see the slightest hint of a mist, but you probably don't.

And yet, for all of its lack of a physical door underneath the arch, you know it is a threshold, you know that crossing it is the first real step into the House of the Sun, where the Glory resides and shines down its light.

You can see that the air itself beyond it is different, old and rich with knowledge and secrets, you can spy circles of grass and bushes that naturally sprout on its plains, and you know that you will learn what you came here for if only you inspect them from a little closer, patterns of rituals and Mansus-laws flourishing as naturally in here as flowers might sprout in the Wake.

But apart from that, you know nothing else of this Door.



[ ] Cross the Blank Door

[ ] Do not
> Turn 4 - Results, part 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



You have decided not to cross the Blank Door. Not yet. Not without understanding it.
Following that, you make plans for the near future.
Naturally, you will commit your nights and dreams to studying the Blank Door, in hopes of comprehending it before deciding on how to proceed.
And in the Wake, you will beseech your Master for a Lore lesson, yes... but much more importantly, you will look into what might be going on with your daughter. Her nanny, Soft Sweeps, acted rather strange a few days back. But that was more than enough to raise several red flags inside your head, to which you will dedicate a great part of your attention.



You eye the Blank Door curiously for a few moments and cautiously approach it, your hoofs still unused to the solid feeling of the Mansus-stone after such a long time traversing the Woods. You get close enough that you think the tip of your snout might reach its threshold if you inch forward just a little bit more.

And you immediately freeze, a chill going through your spine as you realize something.

The Mansus is a reality that has some strange properties akin to dreams, or perhaps it is a dream with a touch of reality to it. But it has just occurred to you that, just like you might have in a dream, you are treating a knowledge that you were not supposed to have as if it was something perfectly natural.

This is the Blank Door, isn't it? Well, how in the heavens did you come to know that piece of information in the first place? Much like when you dream that you "met somepony you know" despite not remembering their face, or like how you can dream of being chased by something and not remember anything but the feeling of dread itself, it suddenly dawns at you that you have never before heard anything about this door, or about any Blank Door for that matter, be it in whispers of your cult's Master or anywhere else. The information simply came to your mind as if somepony else had put it there.

And yet you were about to treat it as you would a path in the crossroads, or a grove in the Woods.

You chastise yourself for nearly giving in to carelessness, after all who knows what strange conventions and rules the Mansus itself follows? You have barely scratched the surface on your knowledge about the forest underneath it, so it simply won't do if you are not cautious of the edifice itself.

You exhale a sigh, knowing that this is a battle between your rationality and your passion. You can feel that deep, deep inside of you, some part of you knows this place, knows the Mansus, and this part of you yearns to rejoin it and explore it. You almost think that this sensation is akin to a grown pony returning to their long lost childhood home, a feeling of familiarity and nostalgia that not even decades of life and hundreds of small changes can totally erase.

Perhaps the Mansus shares some deep connection with ponykind, like your Master so often hints at, perhaps it is something else.

But in the end, this is still a place with unknown dangers and hidden rules, and you will not walk into a trap you could have avoided.

You turn your back to the Blank Door, feeling the longing within you grip your heart for half a second before vanishing, and you make your way down the stairs.

It is for the best, you think to yourself, for you must soon awake and commit the path you have taken to memory. There will be other opportunities to enter the House of the Sun.



You have reached the Blank Door and felt the whispers and longings that surround it. You have gained one WINTER scrap of lore, although you do not know why.

Your WINTER Lore is now level 1!









You mull over your thoughts, your mind still a bit sharp after a somewhat dull and slow day.

There are nine Lores that you know of, or at least that your Master is willing to tell you about, and you can't help but think of how slightly frustrating seeking them is. Mostly because they are not obvious, even on hindsight, not being the sort of realization that you can easily reach even if you do a good deal of studying by yourself. And yet they have some sort of logic to them, an internal and consistent logic. Like a whole new set of rules that you have to slowly piece together.

You are sure that you would have given up long ago, or at least grown uninterested, if they didn't actually work, and if deep down you didn't know that they actually make some sort of sense. But you still feel like a little filly learning how to do basic additions, struggling to learn the most basic rules of math. Except that as a grown mare you also know that, following that analogy, you still have dozens of other more complex rules to learn before you can start thinking on your own four hoofs and extrapolating based on your knowledge. Or at least that's how it was with mathematics and calculus, during your time in school.

You let out a small sigh, looking at your own reflection in the mirror, the room behind you dimly illuminated by moonlight and your empty bed ready. "But arduous as it might sound…" you say to yourself absent-mindedly, "there's really no other way to do it."

And with that, you float a pair of scissors towards your mane.

You should really find another way into the Mansus, you think idly, or your mane will start suffering as the frequency of your visits increase.

Snip, goes the scissors, and off you go to bed.



And not long after, you reach the Woods.



Snap.

You look around, your mind coming to a sharp focus once again.

You have been walking for a while now, with no real objective in mind, through places far from the light of Glory, where moonlight is plentiful and the roots and branches seem to caress you rather than try to choke you. But although your mind had started to idle away long ago, to the point where you didn't even realize you were lost, you immediately recognize that sound.

"Master?" you look around, searching for the source of the familiar noise, before realizing the effort is futile. "I have come for a lesson, Master, if you would teach me," you finally say out loud, giving a short one-hoof bow to no direction in particular.

You nearly think that you might have miss-heard it, until the answer finally comes.

"Velvet Covers…" there is a… curious tone to the voice? Something about it that makes you unsure whether if it is you, or your Master, who is intrigued, but intrigued somepony surely is, "you search for me, and yet you came here into the Woods, vast and secretive, instead of our gathering place where you might have more easily found me… Why is that?"

"I…" an answer almost escapes your mouth, but something, perhaps your logic finally catching up to you, stills it, and you forget what you were about to say. "I… am not sure, Master. I just thought that…"

You stop again, thinking a bit harder on your answer. Your Master is right, why did you come to the Woods instead of looking for him in your cult's lodge? By all rights, the way this should have turned out was with you simply getting lost in the Woods, and waking up befuddled and frustrated, and nothing else. So why did you come here?

And for that matter, why did it work? How exactly did your Master find you here in the first place? You have been to the Mansus many times before, and you have only ever met your Master when you were summoned here. All your other voyages you have made by yourself, with not a single hint of their presence.

"Progress…" you hear that whisper, heavy with some thoughtful feeling, reach your ears. "But you have come for a lesson, have you not? Your knowledge does you some merit so far, but there is far too much you do not yet understand. Name what you seek."

The curious feelings are gone from the voice, and all that you hear now is the preaching and teaching tone from which you have heard many things over the years. A part of you feels a tinge of excitement at that, thinking that you are about to hear that voice directly teach you a secret, and not simply engage in the roundabout and furtive oratory that you would hear in a normal cult gathering.

But another part of you is mulling over the answer you are about to give, wondering if it is the correct one. You are starting to get a better grasp of how you might apply part of the knowledge you have, and you can feel that you are close to some sort of breakthrough in some areas of it. But there are also Lores that you know nothing about, and despite the clear inclinations of your Master there is one in particular that you know will be of great use to you, although you certainly hope your Master won't take your request as an offence.

Only one way to find out, you think.

"I would like to learn the secrets of Grail" you say plainly, your eyes searching for something to focus on thanks to the ingrained habit that you should look at your teachers in the eye.

But this is not university, and you definitely don't find anything in the shadows as the seconds go by and you remain without an answer.

"A married, respectable mare like you, asking for such a thing?" until an unexpected answer comes, followed by a gust of wind and the sound of leaves scraping against wood. You tilt your head slightly, unsure of what exactly your Master meant by that.

And does that noise of leaves and wind sound almost like… laughter…?

"Pardon, Master?" you ask quizzically, and the wind dies out almost immediately, your Master's voice seeming to focus back on a single unidentified place once more.

"Think nothing of it," you hear it shortly after, although you can swear that you feel a smirk about it, "but there is unfortunately little that I can teach you."

Your eyes go wide in surprise, this is surely not what you had expected, but you keep your mouth shut out of respect. You try to think of alternatives of what you could do, then. Maybe ask your Master for a lesson on something else? Maybe try and search for a book? Or perhaps Copper Secateur knows enough about it to share? She surely seems to be oriented towards Grail after all, or-

"After all," the voice interrupts you, almost as if it knew your chain of thought, "you know so little of it that it might as well be nothing. You know so little that, so to speak, you do not even understand what it is that you ask."

Another sudden snap of a twig comes from right behind you, followed by the clear sound of a hoof digging through dirt. You actually jump up in surprise, but the noise is gone before you turn around, and as you half-expected there is nopony there when you face the direction it came from.

But when you look down you see it, the clear sign of a clear hoof-print on the black dirt, and a short trail indicating that it had taken a small hoof-full of dirt, unearthing the soil.

You also see the faintest gleam of glass, coming from that tiny makeshift hole. The very tip of a small, empty vial that you quickly dig out with a curious expression.

Not empty, you soon realize, there is a trace amount of some sort of liquid inside the unmarked vial.

"Your ignorance made itself known," your Master's voice comes once again, but from farther away this time, and you can hear that it is growing more and more distant with every word, "when you asked for a lesson of Grail. One does not learn Grail, one tastes from it. And that in your hoofs is a taste, something that long ago had power and relevance, and that might have been revered at higher places within the Mansus or of the Wake. But it is old now, the powers that upheld it are long gone, and it is but a single drop…"

Your heartbeat quickens as you eye the small glass vial, and the viscous fluid on its very bottom. The pale moonlight is such that you can't be certain, but you swear that the single drop of liquid looks too much like blood, its vibrant red concealed by the blue glow that penetrates through the trees from high above.

"So… diminished as its power is… it might be just enough that it will not totally overwhelm and consume you," you hear you Master say with something akin to a smirk, "so I will leave you alone with your… 'lesson', Velvet Covers…"

And the voice disappears, something inside of you telling you that you are truly alone now.

But your eyes have not yet left the small vial, even though you can feel some alarm ringing at the back of your head from what your Master had just said. Your rationality is gripping at you, telling you to take heed that this might be dangerous, and that perhaps there are other, better options, to learn what you seek. But that grip is so weak right now.

And that single drop inside the vial looks so… delicious.

You open it with your mouth, spitting the tiny and ancient bottle cork into the darkness of the forest around you, and on the next second you have the vial upended, flinging its minute content into your open mouth.

And you watch that small, viscous drop slowly inch down through the interior of the glass.

Slowly.

Your body tenses with an anticipation you can't explain, and you can swear that the inanimate drop is actually taunting you.

But on the next second it finally leaves the vial, travelling through the air for a moment until it lands on your tongue.



And you can't even feel its taste.



Your whole body immediately tenses up. Every muscle in your body, every strand in your mane, every thought in your brain, your whole self seems to contract into itself, only to be released outwards a moment later with another sensation you have never felt before.

It is not the feeling of electricity coursing through you, it is not pain, it is not pleasure or release either, but instead some sort of tingling warmth that you can't explain or describe, a maddening sensation that spread out through your body like fire might spread on oil. You can feel it in every fiber of your body, but you can't even begin to describe it, you mind is racing too much right now for you to even bother trying.

You can no longer see the Woods around you, you can't feel your own labored breath, your mind can't even properly identify that the color that took over your vision is a bright red. The only thing you can barely compute is that you are seeing the dreams that your ancestors once shared, long ago, running through your mind as if they were your own, and that you are hearing the lessons that might be learned from warm whispers under dim candlelight, words you can't understand caressing your ears like soft feathers.

You feel the blood coursing through your heart, and the sensation of drowning with your lungs full of air, and the pleasures of consuming and being consumed, and so much more. You would have thought that you were burning alive, if it wasn't for the fact that you are feeling more alive right now than you ever have in your whole life.



And you only realize you are awake, and back in your room, when you hit a writhing hoof against the hard wood of your nightstand, the ache of your limb bringing you back to reality.



You immediately realize you are under your covers, and that you hare hot, drenched in sweat and other things under the weight of your blanket. You throw them aside and gulp greedily from the welcome cold air of your room.

You feel exhausted, yet full of energy, something almost like agony riling from within you as you realize you are both regretful and thankful that the visions and sensations have finally ended.

There might be a lesson in this, but you don't care, you can't even think straight right now.



But there is one thing that you are sure of. You thoroughly regret that your husband is not with you tonight.





You Master has given you a fraction of a mystery of Grail, and while even that was too much for you, you will not forget its taste. And perhaps that was the lesson all along.

Gained one scrap of GRAIL Lore.

Your GRAIL Lore is now level one!
> Turn 4 - Results, part 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's a beautiful day. The sun is shining brightly on a spotlessly clean sky, trademark of a competent pegasus weather department, and every color seems to be more vibrant thanks to it. You are sitting on the large north-facing balcony of your estate, sipping from a cup of tea, looking at the scenery before you that might have been more fitting to a painting. Great patches of farmland (your family's farmlands, to be more specific) stretch on halfway to the horizon, bordering a forest that is teeming with life, all of that surrounded by the river that heads to Ponyville.

Birds fly in the sky, paying occasional visits to earth pony farmers below them who seem to carry a few seeds in their saddle bags just for that, and all manner of critters and creatures wander to and from the life-giving river. The perfect picture of coexistence in a plentiful land, crowned by the faraway background of untouched mountains and green lands.

You can even see Canterlot in the distance, that gleaming marble city on the mountainside next to the great waterfall that feeds dozens of rivers on the equestrian valley.

A knock comes from the balcony's glass door, gently shaking you out of your reverie. You float your cup of tea down to its saucer, and patiently wait.

"Please excuse me," you hear the glass door being opened, her voice finally reaching you after a second round of hesitant knocking, which you once again didn't answer, "you called for me, Mrs. Velvet?"

It is Soft Sweeps, as you expected, and you don't need to turn around to know that she is… at the very least confused, if her voice is any indication.

"Yes, I did. Please, come outside Soft Sweeps" you answer calmly, still gazing at the peaceful scenario before you, floating your cup of tea for another sip.

You hear her light steps approaching you, and you go over a few mental notes before starting what you have in mind for this evening.

Soft Sweeps is a young mare. Well, you should stop with the habit of referring to anypony younger than you as "young", but this does apply to her. She had been working in Canterlot at your family's main house for some time, although you are not sure of how long, before being moved to Ponyville when you asked for a pegasus that could be dedicated to caring for Silky Stream.

And that in itself was… maybe just a few years ago? You still recall the final interview you made with her, just to be extra sure. She was brilliantly recommended as an excellent, dedicated and trustworthy maid, and you can distinctly remember the energy she had in her eyes back then, which ultimately caused you to trust her with the most important thing in your life: your own daughter.

But… when did that change? Was it something slow and steady that you failed to notice? You can think back that Soft Sweeps has been growing more and more flustered as time went by, but you assumed it was because she has been in charge of an extremely energetic filly. But was it really that? Could this have been a sudden change, caused my something much more recent?

Whatever it is, your intuition tells you that Silky Stream has something to do with it. She might not have been the cause, but at the very least she was the catalyst. You are sure that Soft Sweeps' recent demeanor has become a lot more noticeable ever since your daughter started going to school.

"May I help you with anything?" the mare is practically behind you now, and you can tell that she is looking around, perhaps searching for Ponpon who would usually be there with you. "I was rather surprised when Mr. Stormchaser said he would be taking the young Miss to school and…"

You close your eyes, taking in the sweet taste of the tea, as well as the slight delay in her voice before she said "young Miss".

"Yes, everypony needs a break every now and then, don't you agree?", you stop for half a second to let that hit her, but continue before she can answer, "and you know my husband, he loves his father and daughter moments. I also dismissed Ponpon for today, so please take a seat."

"Pardon, Mrs. Velvet…?" the confusion in her voice is obvious by now.

But you merely wave a hoof towards the cushioned seat next to yours, as lush and luxurious as your own, and get back to your tea.

You hear her pause for a moment, and you think you can picture the expression she is wearing. She is a maid who has worked for a noble family for some time now, and that is not a job you can survive in without having attention to certain cares and details. You are the lady she serves, and the place you just motioned her to sit in is a seat meant for guests, your guests, ponies of your station and status. And you wonder what she is thinking that you mean by this invitation.

Whatever it is that she is thinking about, you just hope she doesn't think she's walking into a trap.

Well, she technically is, but it's not that sort of trap.

"If you'll excuse me…?" she finally gives in, maybe out of courage, or maybe out of fear that she had been hesitating for too long, sitting on the cushioned seat. She even loses her balance for a few moments as the unexpectedly fluffiness of the thing makes her sink more than she thought she would.

You sneak a peek from the corner of you eye while she is busy reorienting herself.

Her maid uniform seems to be impeccable, covering most of her light caramel coat except for her legs and wings, and her dark mane is tied for convenience. The short dress is still enough to cover her cutie mark though.

But more importantly, you can see that the mare is tense. The well-kept uniform just makes it more clear that she is stiff in some places. And you know those signs well: accumulated stress, the mounting-up of a slow burn over long periods of time, symptoms that most ponies wouldn't be able to notice on themselves unless somepony else pointed them out, or if they had enough life experience for it.

And Soft Sweeps doesn't strike you as a pony who has the latter.

You sigh, imperceptibly, as the mare finally finishes regaining her bearings and reaches something resembling a sitting position.

"Would you like some tea?" you ask with a pleasant smile, finally turning her way.

You see her struggle with the reflex of moving to the kettle in order to serve you at the slightest mention of the word "tea", before reigning herself back in once she finishes interpreting the rest of the question.

"No Mrs. Velvet, thank you," she answers a moment later.

No tea then, you nod to yourself, wondering if she is actually in pain by how tightly shut she is keeping her wings.

No tea, and no sign that she will slowly ease down either? Something tells you that appreciating the scenery in silence will only cause her to worry more. Better keep her mind busy then, who knows where her thoughts might take her otherwise?

Better keep her talking, you conclude. Perhaps a less indirect approach.

"I have to say, pegasus really are something else," you think out loud, "I mean, as a unicorn I have no idea how it must feel like to fly. It's even a bit worrying to watch Silky fly, sometimes. But the whole walking on clouds thing, and the domain you have over the weather… We can see all the way to Canterlot from here thanks to how clear some pegasi keep the sky," you say, absent-mindedly pointing towards the capital of Equestria as you speak.

And you think you see her nod, mumbling some sort of cautious agreement.

Not going to speak unless directly asked a question? Good heavens, this girl either had maid-ing hammered into her, or she is twice as nervous as her body language suggests.

"You worked on my family's main house before coming here, didn't you? How was it there?" you ask, floating your teacup towards you once again.

You ponder on how long you should sip, as it might make her realize you won't be talking for a short while, or if you should pour her a cup and gently ask her to join you and drink some. But, much to your relief, she finally starts answering before you come to a decision.

"It was… nice, Mrs. Velvet. The mansion in Canterlot is much larger than here, but the other maids were kind to me, and the Velvets were good to us…"

She is speaking in a halting matter, and you stay quiet for a few moments after she stops talking, waiting for the inevitable "but" that surely is about to follow. However, it never arrives, as much as you can practically feel it hanging over the mare. And that causes a thought to bubble in your head…

You are still sure that she is acting weirdly due to something recent, or at least that involves her life ever since she was transferred here… But now, something inside you whispers that there's more to it.

You eye the marble city on the far distance. The way she's hesitating to talk about her previous assignment… something about her life when she was in Canterlot, perhaps?

"Yes, well, if you're saying they were 'good' then I sure hope I'm a bit better than good, over here," you say with a small laugh, "but I don't think I ever asked you, how did you ever become a maid? I mean, you're incredibly good at it, but what led you to it?"

You let the question float in the air for a few moments. Hopefully her answer will give you a hint on what direction to go.

But those few moments slowly become a reasonable amount of moments, and you sip at your tea as a full minute comes by and passes.

You know this sensation. This is silence, the tense, brittle kind of silence. The kind that usually precedes the sound of something breaking.

You calmly float your teacup down and take a deep breath, bringing out the gentlest voice you can.

"You know, Soft Sweeps? I can't shake the feeling that something is up with you, or has been for some time now. Is everything all right?" you turn to face her once more.



[The nursemaid's problem, breakpoints: 40/100]

[Roll: 84 + 11 (Diplomacy) + 5 (Beautiful) + 5 (GRAIL bonus) = 105]



You ask softly, in the same tone of voice you would use if your daughter was scared of something.

And you can see it in her face, she is scared of something. You see tension, then confusion, then perhaps fear or something else. Until her expression changes into something you were honestly not expecting.

She starts crying, and it takes a good amount of your hard-earned experience for you to hide your surprise.

"Soft? What's the matter?" you ask gently, but the mare doesn't seem to listen. Her sobbing grows heavier and heavier, and what little embarrassment she felt while she tried to control herself soon crumbles, and she starts moving desperately to try and wipe her tears with her uniform.

Before you can even think of how to respond, she is already fully crying, her hoofs covering her eyes and her whole body trembling.

You freeze for half a second, the thought of how young she is once again coming to your mind. She may be a maid, and one who is very good at her job, but what about the pony underneath that frilled black and white dress? She worked for your family for some time, in Canterlot, and have been with you in Ponyville for just a few years. But even so, if this is her first tour within a noble family then she must not have much experience at all. And you're not thinking about work experience, you are thinking about life experience.

For all you know right now… for all you care right now, she is just a young pegasus mare, and for whatever reason it might be she is crying her eyes out in front of you.

Life can get to anypony like that, sometimes. As much as it pains you even your own daughter might have a moment like this, not many years from now. You feel a knot in your heart when you think about it… Heavens, going by the way you're feeling, Soft Sweeps might very well be your daughter right now. Just a young pegasus who can't bear the weight of something very heavy.

"Shh… it's okay Soft, don't worry…", she very nearly jumps in fright when she realizes you just sat down next to her. You can feel her body tense up in fear when you put your hoofs around her, but you don't care. You just caress her mane gently, bringing her into a hug.

"Its all right… just let it out…"

And her nervousness finally starts bleeding out of her. Her crying grows heavier as she hugs you back in an almost fierce way, but soon you can see her wings untense, sagging to her sides, and her grip on you grows weaker and weaker, until she is only lying against you in a hug.

You undo her tied mane with a bit of magic, and keep her in a hug while stroking her mane.

"There, there…" you finally say. She's still sobbing slightly, but seems to be much calmer now. "Now, do you want to tell me what's bothering you?"

Your tone of voice all but says that she doesn't have to, if she does not want to. But you feel a tinge of relief when you see her taking a deep breath.

"I… I'm sorry Mrs. Velvet. It's just that… I'm so scared…"

You feel her slightly pushing against you, and you let her go, the two of you sitting side by side on the same cushion. She keeps looking down while she talks, but you can see that she keeps the side of her body pressing against yours, almost as if she's afraid of letting go.

And true to her words, you also feel that she is trembling a bit.

"I'm scared that I will lose my job… or that I'll screw up somehow and…" she looks up, towards the distant Canterlot, a few more tears appearing and running down her face, "my family lives there, you know? Back in Canterlot. We never really had much but," she chuckles a bit, the sound half-mixing with a hiccup, "you wouldn't believe how glad I was when I got my cutie mark. Me and my siblings did the best we could to help at home, although there wasn't a lot we could do. But once I got my cutie mark? There in the capital, nobles will fight tooth and hoof to employ a pony with a feather duster on her flank. They almost only employ ponies who were borne for the job, so once I got mine me and my family knew I did it."

She kept her eyes on Canterlot, and you can see a hint of a smile creeping on her lips as some memories come back to her.

But it's the broken sort of smile. The tears that keep flowing down her eyes make it abundantly clear.

"And I did it, Mrs. Velvet. Started small, working for whoever would employ a filly, and climbed my way up as I got older. It was terrifying, sometimes, getting scolded by a noble when I did something wrong or when I had to spend whole days away from home, but I brought every bit I earned back to my family. Even if sometimes I was t-treated like some back-alley pegasus that dirtied half the things I cleaned that day."

Her voice trembled a bit as she talked, though her eyes kept themselves looking at Canterlot.

"But I started working with more maids as I got hired to bigger places, and they'd give me a hoof. Help me lie about my age and all, help me with my chores when they realized I wasn't keeping up with the job because I was too tired or hungry or..."

She stops for a moment, looking down to the ground again while taking a long sniff, trying to reign in a few tears, and you can't help but think back at how she said the other maids were "kind" to her on your family's house in Canterlot. You have been in Ponyville for years now, so you weren't there when she was first employed, but just how far from being a fully grown mare was she, when she started working there?

Or maybe the right question is not "how far from being a mare", but rather an outright "how young was she?"

"And then they sent me here…" her small smile totally disappears now, "and I… please don't get me wrong Mrs. Velvet, I love working here but… Sometimes I just miss my family so much… but I can't spare the bits or the working days on a ticket to Canterlot. I mean, thank Celestia for Ponpon taking me in to live in her home, but I even send over the bits I save on rent and…"

She covers her face with her hoofs again, and you can feel her lean more heavily onto you.

"I can't lose my job Mrs. Velvet, I… I just can't," she finally stops speaking, and you can feel her sobbing slightly every now and then.

"Soft, Soft… why didn't you ever tell me about any of this?" you ask gently, but honestly, "you work for me on paper, sure, but I'm still a mare just like you. And what's with this fear of losing your job? You're one of the best maids we have here, and Ponpon showers you with praise whenever we are talking about housework. Me and Stormchaser even trust you with being Silky Stream's caretaker, so why do you think like this?"

You put a hoof around her again, on a side hug. A lot of things make a little more sense now. Ponpon is an experienced maid that has worked with you for years now, and she also has a house-cleaning cutie mark now that you think about it, but she always seemed a little protective about Soft Sweeps. She must have taken Soft Sweeps to live with her on the very first day she arrived, from what you can tell.

But you're still slightly, only slightly, disturbed that Ponpon never told you about any of this. You just hope that Soft Sweeps won't see you and your husband as terrifying nobles anymore.

"It's because…" she starts answering, but you can feel a final bit of hesitation on her voice that lasts for a few seconds. "It's the young miss, Mrs. Velvet… I could clean this whole estate from roof to basement if you asked me, but I've never been good with fillies. I mean, I could take care of my younger siblings just fine, but the young miss is a noble filly, and she…"

She stops for a while, but you don't interrupt her. You can feel that she's mustering her courage to say something, and whatever it is she is slowly convincing herself that she can trust you. You can also feel the weight in her words as she says them, like your daughter being a "noble" filly makes her some sort of delicate timebomb.

You feel another knot in your heart, and you wonder exactly what sorts of experiences she must have been through while at her work.

"It was fine before she went to school, Mrs. Velvet. I could keep up with the young miss, and she's the sweetest filly I ever met. But the thing is…" she takes a deep breath, as if finally steeling herself, "sometimes after class she just ups and disappears. I have no idea where she goes, and she won't stop doing it no matter how much I ask her to. But most of the days she just disappears as soon as the school bell rings, vanishing in that stampede of foals, and I spend the rest of the afternoon terrified, looking for her and…"

You feel her almost curling up, her voice growing smaller and smaller.

"And I just lost my job by telling you this, didn't I? I'll... I'll go see myself out and…"

She tries to push away from you and stand up, but you keep her firmly in your hug. She looks up to you and sees the disappointed expression on your face, and you feel her curl up in fear even more.

Of course you are disappointed, but not at her. At yourself, mostly, for not realizing you had such a problem sooner, and at your daughter for apparently completely disobeying her own caretaker this much!

You know that you might have reacted differently if you simply discovered that your daughter has been running away almost every day after school. But also knowing a bit of context can make a whole world of difference.

Sure, anywhere can be dangerous for an unaccompanied filly, even Ponyville. And you can see in her eyes why she is so terrified about it. But you can also see she has more reasons than a pony would normally have to be feeling like this about the whole situation, so you know you can, or rather that you must, forgive her for simply failing to report that.

So this whole situation rests on you, both for not noticing it before, and when it comes to making it right.

"Soft Sweeps," you say with a firm and serious voice, although still keeping her in a hug.

"Y-yes Mrs. Velvet…?" she meekly replies.

"You are among the very damned best maids we have in this house, and I wouldn't accept your transfer to Canterlot, or anywhere else for that matter, even if I got a letter from my father," you un-hug her, but still keep a grip on her with both your hoofs, and you look her in the eye as you talk to her, "and I hope that you can trust me if you ever need anything, or if anything complicated like this ever comes up again. And I mean anything."

Her terrified expression has now turned into one of surprise as you keep talking.

"You are also getting a raise," her eyes and mouth go wide open, "and I'll be taking care of Silky's recent antics personally."

You finally let go of her, and the open wings she was just about to use to escape from you sag down to her back like a pair of balloons.

You smile at her, a genuine smile of happiness from the fact that she opened herself to you, and that (you hope) she trusts you a bit more, even if just by a little. Right after that you get up from her cushion and sit back on your own, floating the kettle to serve a second teacup and raising your own towards you.

"Now, about that whole importance of taking a break that I said earlier, you can take the rest of the day off if you want but," you nod towards the teacup you just served, "I would love to drink a bit of tea with a friend. If it catches her fancy, that is."

The wide-mouthed Soft Sweeps slowly turns back to… normal. A refreshing normal, a non-flustered Soft Sweeps kind of normal that, now that you think about it, you haven't seen in a long time. Her expression slowly opens a smile, and you turn to face the scenery when you realize there might be a threat of tears on her eyes again.

You hear her sniff one final time, but you make sure not to pry as she clears her eyes with a hoof, and soon enough she reaches for the cup of tea that is waiting in the table.

"I'd love to, Mrs. Velvet!" you hear her answer.

And you sigh in relief as a pleasant afternoon of tea opens itself before you.





You have learned that Silky Stream, apparently, goes somewhere else after school. This might be some sort of rebellion against Soft Sweeps, the mare she was supposed to listen to, this might also be an attempt at running away, or this just might be something else entirely. Whatever it is, you will use this information to follow through in your investigation.

A choice to address Soft Sweeps' personal (familial) situation will not be directly presented, but write-ins about it will now be accepted.

Soft Sweeps is now extremely loyal to you.
> Turn 4 - Results, part 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

So. Cheerilee.

You asked your husband for his opinion about her, from the few times he met her when he picked up Silky Stream, and you talked with Soft Sweeps about her on the same subject. But in the end, you only got the general gist about "the nice mare who sees her students off after school". You don't really know any more about her than you did the first time you met her.

Is she dedicated to her job? Apparently. Is she actually competent about it? Your checking-overs of Silky's homework surely suggests so. But is she attentive to detail? Can she actually keep tabs on the lives of every single foal in her class, and steer them into the proper path as an educator? That remains to be seen. After all, you do recall a certain off-hoof remark your daughter made about an escapade to the school's roof, followed by a (surely impressive) aerial stunt. But as much as that episode reveals a promising talent for flight in your daughter, it also opens margin for possible carelessness on her teacher. You must ascertain the truth behind this.

So, this calls for a hoofs-on verification.

And for that matter, you have absolutely no doubts that every single question you made about her, and the scrutiny you are giving to this, is completely reasonable and called for. This is your daughter's teacher you are looking into after all!

You eye the clock on your office's large desk and see that midday is not far. You float your quill down to its holder and close the several reports and ledgers you have in front of you. They will be here when you return, you think with a sigh, they always are.

But you won't worry about that right now. You push your large chair back with an extra help of magic, and down the long corridor you go, making your way to the staircase that leads to the main hall, and the front door of the estate proper.





You believe you timed this whole affair correctly. The closer you get to the school, the more common the sight of foals running around becomes, alone or in groups, as they head for their homes or to whatever other places they are going, but the sheer amount of them is a clear sign that classes have only very recently finished for the day. You do hope that Soft Sweeps managed to get a hold of Silky Stream today, but you still keep an eye out for the passing ponies, looking for a particularly energetic blur of brown.

You don't see any such blur, however, you barely see any pegasus foals at all. In fact, the only pegasus you did pass by was a rather desponded-looking orange filly, who was talking to an equally sad-looking yellow filly. They probably had a bad day in school, you think as you walk by them.

Actually, they look really sad. By the heavens, you do not miss your younger days. That time can be extremely complicated…

You also look upwards as you approach the school. Now that you think about it, does Silky and Soft Sweeps fly to and from school? It would surely make sense, but it still feels a bit strange for you.

Your idle thinking about how flying around must be as normal to pegasus as floating things with magic is to you is interrupted, when you finally spot the white picket fence around the cute red building.

"Excuse me? Miss Cheerilee?" you peek in through the half-opened doors of the school. The classroom itself is a lot tidier than you had expected, the desks and chairs neatly filed with very little indication that a foal-stampede had just been borne from this place. And thanks to that you have no difficulty spotting the pony you came for, taking stock of what appears to be a cabinet filled with supplies for arts and crafts.

"Mrs. Velvet! I didn't expect you to come by," and she realizes you are here, as well, closing the cabinet and coming towards you, "but I'm pretty sure I saw your friend Sweeps waiting outside before the bells rang. Can I help you with something?"

"If you would have the time then yes, I do have something I would like to talk about. And…" you think for a moment on the best way you could phrase it, "it's something I'd rather talk about without Silky being here, so I asked Soft Sweeps to pick her up as usual."

Cheerilee gives you a rather curious look, but soon nods to herself and heads towards the back of the classroom once again. "Well, if it's something I can help with then I will be delighted to. Celestia knows I'd very much like that all parents came for a talk when they felt that one was in order. Just wait for me to finish tidying up a few things?"

She quickly finishes a last round of organizing some of the shelves that dot the sides of the classroom, and soon enough you have her full attention.

"Now, I'm sure this is about Silky Stream, but I have to admit I'm rather curious what it could be about. So, what would you like to talk about Mrs. Velvet?"

"I hope it isn't something we should worry about, but recentl-"

You are suddenly interrupted by a growling noise that surprises the two of you. And your face immediately turns red when you realize the sound came from your own stomach.

It dawns at you that you left your home without even so much as nibbling something on the kitchen. In fact, when was the last time you ate anything at all? Was it at breakfast? To make such a mistake right before an important meeting, you chide yourself mentally. You foolish, uneducated, amateur!

"Oh Mrs. Velvet," Cheerilee starts laughing, trying to contain her laughter with a hoof on her mouth as you start blushing, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Here, it is getting a bit into lunch time and I'm also starving. Why don't we talk about this over a hay sandwich?"

You take a deep breath to recompose yourself, although you can tell that your cheeks won't be recomposing themselves anytime soon, but you quickly agree with her.





It takes a considerable portion of your willpower not to wolf down on the sandwich. The thing is absolutely delicious.

You are sitting opposite to Cheerilee, on a parasol-shaded table outside of a small restaurant. She is probably a regular here, considering how the waiter was amicable to her and didn't even ask what she would like. You, for your part, simply asked for whatever she was having, and it turns out Cheerilee has excellent taste, both in restaurants and in food.

But you can't properly express that, not in an elegant way at least, so you have to torture yourself by savoring it bite by bite. If there has ever been a day when you thought etiquette was more of a burden than a tool, this is being the day.

"Nothing like a good meal to bring back some energy," Cheerilee finally says to herself with a satisfied sigh, "and I'm sure going to need it. The students turned in their assignments on Equestrian History today, so…"

She gave the saddle bag she had brought with her a light pat, the thing practically sitting upright on the ground next to her thanks to the sheer amount of papers inside it.

"Well, I'll have them all graded by the end of the week as always, right on time for the next turn in," she finishes with a curious smile. A strange mix of defeated acceptance and satisfaction.

"Never ending work, isn't it?" you comment, floating your sandwich down, "I can relate to that…"

"Yes, I guess we can call it that. But by Celestia, is it worth it!" she replies, her smile now turning even more honest, "that is to say, I like to think that everything we do, every class, assignment and homework, is a small brick that those little ones are building inside of themselves. You mentioned you work in a farm, right? I might not have much of an idea of how it must feel like, but it surely can't be that different. The seasons and the work might repeat themselves, but every seed you plant and every crop you reap, don't you think they help build one more day that Equestria is well fed and growing?"

You give her an odd glance as she turns to give her own beverage some attention, and you can't help but to feel a bit of warmth by the way she put it.

Of course, you know it doesn't apply to you. As much as you appreciate her view of things, you can't honestly think of your work as being as important or grand as she puts it. You can't feel that your work is important when all you do is control the flow of workforce, write reports and keep the delicate balance between your family's demands and the amount of bits they are willing to invest on it.

Not when you know that you're just a pawn of a daughter, sent to take care of a business in a backwater town after being married into a conveniently wealthy family, a living coin in a deal of favors and prestige in exchange of assets. Not when you know that, when it comes to your actual job, you are quite replaceable.

But you snap your thoughts away from that particular direction, Cheerilee doesn't need to know that. And right now, you are a regular farm-related working mother who wants to talk to her about something regarding your daughter.

"That's a charming way to put it" you reply, "and if this endless work of ours helps to build a better future for our foals, then I don't think I mind doing it forever."

And you actually manage to give out a real smile while saying that, thanks to the thought of your daughter.

"Mhm! That's what I like to think is my calling," she nods, finishing her own drink and easing back on her seat. "Now, about Silky Streams, what did you want to tell me again?"

"Right, about that. Well, how can I put it…" you hesitate for a moment, thinking about how you should phrase it, "Silky has been rather… unruly, as of late. So I was a bit worried if perhaps something has been going on in school and she hasn't told me about it?"

Cheerilee looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Unruly? Well, I won't pry if you don't want to get into details, but fillies around her age often start taking the first hoofsteps into a more rebellious phase. Although she hasn't been showing any signs of that in class," she looks up and lightly claps her hoofs a bit, as if trying to remember something, "in fact, she is very well behaved from what I recall."

Part of you huffs with pride from hearing her teacher say that, but you can feel that another part is nervously stroking a mental-hoof through a mental-mane, trying to figure out then what the problem is and how you should breach the subject. Should you bring up the rooftop thing? Of course you have some suspicion that perhaps something is happening while your daughter is outside of Cheerilee's view, but how can you properly bring that up without making it sound you're doubting her competence?

Wait. You recall that your daughter said she was taunted into going to the rooftop. Yes, that sounds roundabout enough, so you decide to go with that.

"That's good to hear," you say with a smile, having thought about all that less than a second after Cheerilee's answer, "but I… well, I'm sure you understand that this is a young pony's word about something that happened, so even I don't know exactly what she meant by that. But Silky mentioned that she was recently… taunted into doing something? Maybe goaded by some of the other foals? She wasn't specific on exactly what happened, but I was worried that maybe she was having some sort of difficulty socializing?"

You cast the net wide enough that it isn't clear if you know what happened. She could elaborate on any such "scenario" where your daughter was taunted, she might tell you about some recent falling-off or fight that Silky might have been involved in.

Or she might actually know about a problem your daughter is having and decide to lie about it in order to cover for herself. But the more you talk to Cheerilee the less she strikes you as a pony who would do that.

But instead, she answers almost immediately, and in a way that somewhat befuddles you.

"Taunted? Problems with a friend? I honestly don't know what you might be talking about, Mrs. Velvet. I recall that Silky Stream started out a bit shy, but that was just on her first few days in class. Nowadays she shows excellent social skills for a filly her age. And well, just between you and me," she takes a quick look around, as if checking if she might be overheard, and continues with a lower tone of voice "there are two fillies in her class who are rather… problematic. A few cases of light bullying against the ones who don't yet have cutie marks, some unfortunately normal things for their age. But those two seem to have become a lot more tame after Silky made friends with them."

You slowly nod at her, partly relieved that your daughter is not having any problems in school, as far as Cheerilee knows at least. But that just makes you more confused on what exactly your daughter has been up to. This whole scenario just doesn't look like one that is happening because your daughter is having some sort of problem or is unhappy about something.

"Well, as a teacher I know that there is no such thing as a foal who is friends with everypony in her class, but I can guarantee your daughter isn't having any trouble either. Although I do promise I will keep an eye out for her, if she really is having some odd behavior."

You finish your hay sandwich, munching slowly and thoughtfully, but in the end you can only sigh and agree with Cheerilee.

"That would be wonderful Cheerilee, I'd appreciate if you could do that."



You chat with her for a little while longer, and the two of you go your separate ways.

"We both have to go back to our papers, after all, for the sake of our foals!" she says with a smile.

To which, deep down, you agree.

You might not have discovered much, but at least you can say you had a pleasant time with your daughter's teacher.



You have discovered that, as far as Cheerilee can tell, your daughter is not showing any strange behavior in school. And considering that the mare spends half of every day with her, being her teacher, her word has quite a bit of weight on the matter. Whatever is the source of what is causing you to worry, you will have this information to follow through in your investigation.

Your personal opinion about the details involved might diverge from Cheerilee's, but the two of you are willing to give of yourselves for somepony else's future, and in that you connect. You are now friends with Cheerilee.









[By taking the time to talk with Soft Sweeps, you have learned your daughter has been making some strange escapades after school.]

[By taking the time to talk with Cheerilee, you have learned that your daughter is, in fact, not evil.]

[And by having decided to take immediate action, you will be able to quickly address the heart of the matter. The following is the culmination of your decisions.]





You are walking back to your estate after having a pleasant lunch with Cheerilee. But even though you have earmarked an excellent restaurant for future reference, and that you heard some pleasant compliments about your daughter, you still couldn't find out what you wanted. So you can't help but feel a bit dejected about the whole situation.

"Mrs. Velvet!"

That is, until you hear somepony calling out for you, although you can't see anypony doing such a thing when you look around.

"Mrs. Velvet!" the voice grows louder and closer.

But of course, you finally realize. You better get used to it since you have a flying daughter. The voice that is calling you is coming from above.

"Mrs. Velveeet!" and not a moment later, a pegasus lands in front of you, causing a small cloud of dust from her impact. You wave a hoof around and cough for a few moments before you finally recognize who exactly is in front of you.

"Soft Sweeps? What's happening? What are you doing here?" you ask, slightly confused.

But the mare only looks at you, an energetic gleam on her eyes.

"I found her, Mrs. Velvet! I managed to tail the young miss after she left school, and I found out where she has been going."

Your eyes go wide for a few moments, and the quick glance the two of you share for a moment is enough for her to realize you will follow her lead.





Soft Sweeps practically marches in front of you, a determined expression on her face. And you feel so impressed by her dedication, especially when comparing to how she was acting until very recently, that you try to match her speed with a light trot of your own.

"Try" being the key word, you already feel your right flank throbbing slightly, telling you just how much you will regret it later.

But the two of you finally arrive.

And to your honest surprise, Soft Sweeps has led you to the front door of a mansion.

"Are you quite sure that this is where Silky Stream came, Soft?"

"Absolutely sure, Mrs. Velvet", she answers with confidence, putting a hoof on the ornate door knocker and hitting it against the metal plate at its base.

The sound is quite impressive, and you are sure that half the mansion must have heard it. But as you wait for somepony to answer the door, you can't help but feel that this mansion is somewhat familiar. Not in a sense that you have ever been here before, but you still feel that it strikes at some old memory of yours about…

"Good afternoon. May I inquire what business the two madams have here?", before you can remember… whatever it is you think you should remember, an elderly earth pony with light-purple coat and grey mane, clearly dressed as a butler, answers the door.

"This is Soft Sweeps, and I'm Velvet Covers," you introduce the two of you to the scrutinizing gaze of the butler, "and I've come to pick up my daughter, Silky Stream," you say with a pleasant smile.

That is a lie, of course. Although you don't doubt Soft Sweep's word, you have no idea what your daughter is doing in there, and you most surely didn't come because you simply intended to pick her up.

But the way you smoothly delivered those words gave the impression that you have been planning to come here since last week.

The butler eyes you from mane to hoof and gives an understanding nod, probably because of the similarity between you and your daughter, which you mark as another evidence that this elderly stallion has recently seen her. A few moments later he welcomes the two of you into the mansion.

"I can call for young Silky, if the madam so desires. But may I interest you in some tea? It would perhaps be more proper for the master to greet you, since the two madams are visitors," the butler takes the two of you to a comfortable living room, and you must say that the way he is treating the two of you shows that he has a great deal of experience in his job.

You spy a feather duster on his flank with a quick glance. Just like Soft Sweeps, it would seem.

"That would be lovely" you say, allowing yourself to follow through a bit more with your curiosity, "I'd be delighted to meet him."

The butler excuses himself, and a few minutes later he returns accompanied by a stallion, with a well-kept dark mane and a red tie.

"Madam Velvet Covers, madam Soft Sweeps, may I introduce you to the master of this house, Mr. Filthy Rich. If you excuse me, I will be bringing your tea shortly," he says, leaving the room once more.

Oh, you realize with a snap.

This is the Rich household.

So that's why you thought you remembered the place.



-Filthy Rich, businesspony, married, mainly involved in sales and retail. Grandfather was involved in the founding of Ponyville, from a commercial perspective, together with the Apple family clan, who has an apple orchard operation south of town. Has a good hoof-full in the town's economy thanks to said background, and to family competence. The two families have an interesting deal involving first-rights and sales of zap apple jam, a rare magical culinary luxury.-

The report file you have about him, that you read years ago when you came to Ponyville, flashes through your mind, and curiously the very last line of the report comes to focus from your memory.

-Threat to Velvet Family operations in Ponyville: Low.-



So you greet him with the same smile he offers you.

Perhaps in another life you might have been his business' executioner, ruining him with a few month's of work and the signing of a few deals at the behest of your family's interests. Just another aggressive takeover, just another shovelful of influence into the commercial life of a small town.

But right now, you are a small filly's mother, and he is the owner of the house who is currently hosting said filly. There is no need for anypony to fuss over any details about your background whatsoever.

"Madam Covers, a pleasure to meet you," he says, giving a quick kiss to both your and Soft's hoofs.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Rich. And I hope my little Silky has not caused any trouble so far?" you ask, trying to fish for a bit more of information.

"Not at all. In fact, she has already come here enough times for me to know they will behave, even if it's just Randolph at home with them. And honestly, I gotta say I'm glad that my Diamond is making new friends. It was just her and Silver Spoon for the longest time, so it's good to see some new faces with them."

"That is good to hear," you say calmly, at the same time you make several mental notes. So your daughter has been coming here for a while now, check, and that Diamond Tiara she had told you about a while back is most likely Filthy Rich's daughter, also check.

You breathe an internal sigh of relief. It seems that this whole time it was just your daughter escapade-ing to a friend's house after school. You will have to give her a good talking-to, of course, but it doesn't seem like anything overtly worrying has happened.

Well, gross disregard for her caretaker, and going several times to an unknown stallion's home without adult supervision sure can sound worrying if you frame it like that, but…

All's well that ends well, you suppose?

"And I assume that's also good for your little one as well? I mean, from what Diamond told me she is new in school, and I sure know I'd be relieved if my daughter had just transferred and made friends as quickly as she did," he says, as Randolph, which you think is the butler's name, walks in with a set of tea.

You see Soft Sweeps give you a quick sideways glance as the elderly pony starts serving the tea, but you don't give her any answer to that.

There's still one last thing you would like to check.

"I totally agree. I haven't met your little Diamond Tiara yet, but I hear wonders about her from Silky. And that's well and good, after all I spend so much time at work that I barely can focus on my daughter when she's home… It truly is a blessing she has made such good friends," you say, accepting a teacup and giving it a short sip.

"I can feel that. And say, if you don't mind me asking, but what do the two of you work with? You must be new in town, because I'm sure I'd remember two respectable mares like you if I had ever seen you before, and being in sales I get by a lot around town."

Bingo. It seems he doesn't have any idea of who you are, as you slightly suspected. It comes with having lived a recluse life for years, you guess.

"Farming" you answer simply, "the paperwork involved, at least. Heavens knows I'm not fit for the actual labor," you finish with a charming smile.

He gives you a knowing nod, and you can practically see the thoughts forming inside his head. He is a business stallion, wouldn't have a cutie mark shaped like bags filled with bits if he wasn't, so he surely won't let go of the opportunity to talk up two mares who (apparently) recently moved into town and that are in the farming business.

Filthy Rich starts talking about his daughter, and regular school-related things. The usual things-we-have-in-common talk to form a bridge between you and him. And soon enough, he starts slowly turning the conversation towards the matters of sales and business in general. You make sure to give him an interested look as you sip from your tea, quite agreeing with the taste of it, and entertain him with a bit of your time.

It's the least you can do, after all he has been so graciously receiving your daughter in his house for some time now.

You will give this maybe half an hour more, or until you finish your tea, then you will charmingly ask him if you could take your daughter home.





The secret is to be confident about it.

No matter how little you know about a situation, if you act naturally then it surely indicates both that you are in control of what's going on, and that you knew about all the details the whole time.

So, after a pleasant chat with Filthy Rich, you followed him to his daughter's room and collected your daughter, brushing off her wide-mouthed surprise as a silly filly's playing.

And you made sure to show absolutely no reaction when you ended up collecting a second filly to take to her home.

They seemed to be well behaved fillies, all right. It wasn't hard to recognize Diamond Tiara as the pink filly, especially since she has a cutie mark that is practically the same as her name, and you quickly recognized Silver Spoon as the grey one. But you didn't expect to find Sweetie Belle there with them, although that was a pleasant surprise since she is your friend's little sister.

And she recognized you, from the one time you met, so she didn't have any problems with coming with you. You took her home, her parent's home that is, as it seems she doesn't live with Rarity, and went on your way with your own daughter.



To whom you gave a stern talking-to, before you even reached the main street of Ponyville.



"Do you understand what I just said, Silky Stream?"

"Yes mom…"

The three of you are under one of the several trees that dot the streets of Ponyville. Soft Sweeps was quiet during the whole thing, but she kept her forelegs crossed and her expression serious. Your daughter, for her part, is literally downtrodden, looking at the floor with a dejected expression.

It really ties a knot inside your chest, having to talk to her like that. But every time you think you should stop you remind yourself of how important this kind of conversation is. You could be saving her from actual danger in the future.

Your daughter is still just a filly, after all. She answered that she "simply wouldn't answer" when you asked what she would have done if a stranger tried to talk to her in the streets.

You let out a tired sigh. Being a mother is hard sometimes.

"Now, it's good that you are making friends, but me and Soft Sweeps need to know where you are. It would have been okay for you to visit a friend, we would have let you, but you have to ask permission for it first. Otherwise, you know that you're supposed to wait for Soft Sweeps after school."

"But I would always wait for Soft Sweeps after school… technically… just not right after the bell rang or…"

You and Soft Sweeps give her a grumpy stare, and she curls up, meekly, a little more.

Good heavens, you hope she doesn't use her smarts to make arguments like that in the future. Where did she even pick that up from?

"And most importantly," you continue after taking a deep breath, "I am extremely disappointed with the way you treated Soft Sweeps," you say, stamping a hoof on the ground for emphasis. "You know she has been worried sick about you, don't you?"

She looks meekly towards Soft Sweeps as an answer, and was about to look at the ground again when you put a hoof under her chin, looking her in the eyes. You make sure to take on a more gentle tone for what you are about to say.

"Silky, I need you to understand that Soft Sweeps isn't just a mare that takes care of you or that works in our house," you say kindly, pulling her to stand up from the ground, "she is also your friend. Maybe even more than that. She is somepony who lives with you, takes care of you and looks out for you every day."

"I know…"

"In fact, considering how much she cares for you," you continue, a mischievous smile forming in your face, "I'd say she is practically like an older sister to you."

"She is?"

"I am?!"

The two ponies look up in surprise at that.

"Yes, and I am very disappointed that you would treat your older sister like that," you continue with confidence, "she is supposed to be your role-model for heaven's sake."

"Role model?!"

Soft Sweeps gives you a shocked look, at the same time Silky starts looking at her with an increasing amount of light in her eyes. But you immediately turn away from the two ponies, and leave them behind as you start walking towards the path that will take you all home.

"Now, Silky," you say, over the sudden noise of tackling and surprised yelps you hear from behind you, "why exactly have you been going to Diamond Tiara's house to begin with?"

"Oh, its because I've been friends with her and Silver Spoon for a while," you hear her say, her voice coming from a height and angle that possibly suggests that she is dangling from the neck of a flustered Soft Sweeps, "but she doesn't want to be friends with some other fillies because they don't have cutie marks yet. Which doesn't make sense. I'm a blank flank as well and we get along just fine!"

"Is that so?"

"Yeah!" another yelp from Soft Sweeps, which you take as an indicator that your daughter managed to scale to her back, "so I took Sweetie Belle there today, she's one of the fillies that Diamond sometimes is mean to, to see if we could all be friends!"

You let out a short "huh", and you finally turn to face the other two while you walk.

As expected, Silky Stream is fiercely grappled to the back of Soft Sweep's neck, and the young filly's smile seems to be the polar opposite of the mare's embarrassed expression.

"Well then, make sure to ask Soft Sweeps if you want to go to a friend's house in the future. And don't be shy about asking her advice either," the maid throws you a pleading, almost betrayed look at that, "I'm sure she'll know exactly what to do."

"Okay mom!"

And with that, the three of you head back home, the afternoon sun lighting the road before you.





You are now acquaintances with Filthy Rich, a wealthy well-to-do (or perhaps "the" wealthy well-to-do) stallion from Ponyville.

You are now acquaintances with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, your daughter's friends.
> Turn 4 - Results, part 3 extra
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You are Spoiled Milk, and you have just arrived home after a rather dull afternoon of shopping.

Spoiled Rich, thank you very much. You abandoned the "Milk" part of your maiden name ever since you married.



"Good afternoon, mistress. I trust you had a pleasant day?" you pass by your butler as you enter your manor, to whom you respond by throwing your shopping bags at without breaking stride, which he swiftly catches as usual.

"Is dinner ready yet? There wasn't a single adequate place open today so I haven't eaten in more than a while," you ask, making your way to the living room while the butler tries to balance all your shopping bags to take upstairs.

"Dinner will be served soon, mistress," he answers in his usual droning voice, "shall I summon the young lady as well?"

"Yes, whatever. Call Diamond and Rich, I'll be waiting on my couch."

You hear the butler answer something, which you pointedly don't care about, and make your way towards the comforts of your living room.

A pleased smile finally appears in your face as you start to ease down, your body feeling slightly more relaxed. Living in Ponyville can be so difficult sometimes, with all the unpaved dirt roads, the poor shops and the uneducated lowlifes that seem to be everywhere a pony looks at. As much as you try to shop the unease away sometimes it just doesn't work, simply because there's nothing interesting to buy.

You let out a long sigh, breathing back in the perfumed air of your manor. You should make another trip to Canterlot, you think, or Manehattan, or Fillydelphia, or anywhere that's not here. Things are so much simpler in the better, more developed cities.

You arrive at your living room, already planning your coming weekend, when you suddenly freeze as you feel something under your hoof.

Your mouth goes wide open as you recognize the offending sensation that you just stepped on, whatever calm you were about to achieve instantly evaporating from inside you.

"Randolph!" you call your butler, "RANDOLPH, come here right this INSTANT!"

You do your best to keep your temper level, but this simply will not do!

"Yes, mistress?" the butler finally shows his face from the top of the stairs. How can the incompetent stallion be so calm during this whole thing?!

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Beg your pardon mistress, what exactly do you ref-?"

"THIS!"

You take your hoof from the carpeted floor, revealing the smidge of dirt that is on the carpet.

Dirt! In your mansion! Why do you even have servants if your own mansion is as dirty as the damned streets of the hillbilly town outside?!

"Pardon mistress," the butler answers with his usual drone after inspecting the carpet, "madam Soft Sweeps paid us a visit earlier, and she had her hoofs dirty due to what I believe was a strong landing at a sharp angle. I must have missed this spot, and will clean it right away."

"Visit? Someone who leaves dirt in my house can barely be called a visitor. Rich! Filthy Rich! Get your hoofs down here, we must discuss something immediately!" you call out for your husband, ignoring the butler as he scurries away to do the job he should have done long ago.

"Oh, you're back already. Welcome home dear," your husband comes down the stairs soon after.

"Don't you 'welcome home' me, Mr. Rich. What's this about some," you wave a hoof around, trying to remember the obviously lowborn name, "Whatever Sweeps visiting our mansion? And what the hay kind of name is that, a maid's name?"

"Oh, yes, right. She came with the mother of our daughter's friend. You know, Silky, the little pegasus who has been visiting us and-"

You facehoof in anger, letting out a groan that your husband knows very well not to talk over.

"I have already told you, Rich…" you speak slowly, still trying to reign in your temper, "that our Diamond Tiara cannot, and I mean CANNOT affiliate herself with those dirt-borne foals in her school!"

How can he miss something so obvious? How can he be teaching your daughter something so obviously wrong?!

"That is not the way a pony moves up in Equestria, and she will not learn that if you keep letting her consort with those kinds of ponies."

"Well, I…" he stutters a bit. Good, it means at least he knows he messed up, "I couldn't just chase them away dear, after all the mare she came with was here to pick up her daughter and-"

"Then you should have chased her daughter away," you turn and walk away from your husband, making clear that the conversation is over, "have the butler throw her filly out through the door like some trash or whatever. I don't care."

You take out your gold necklace and place it over the low central table, determined to try and calm yourself down at least before dinner.

"But dear, well, the mother seemed like such a pleasant mare," your husband insists, much to your chagrin, "I mean, from what we talked I might very well try and do some business in the future with Velvet Covers if she-"

You trip. Your body freezes and you fall face first into the floor.

"Dear, are you all right?!"

You feel your husband shake you a few times, and you see his worried face when he turns you around to face upwards.

"Spoiled dear, what happened?!"

"What…" you finally manage to say a few words, "what did you say the mother's name was?"

"What? Dear, you're not thinking straight. Was it the heat? Did you carry too much weight?"

"Her name Rich, what was her name?" you bring your hoofs to your husband's face, shaking him back even while he holds you.

"What does that have to do w-? Agh! Fine! It was Velvet, I think, Velvet Covers!"

You feel the same freezing sensation surge from inside of you again, but this time you master it, and you use your newfound strength to bring your husband's face very close to yours.

"Listen well Rich… our Diamond Tiara and that filly you were talking about are going to be the best of friends. Do you understand?"

He meekly nods as an answer, confusion clear in his eyes.

But you don't care. Your daughter, it seems, must have inherited something very important from you.

After all it seems that, just like you, she has the uncanny ability to find gold even in the middle of dirt.





Your daughter's blank flank and excited demeanor has gotten her close to a trio of fillies, and her innocent manners allowed her to get close to another notorious pair. But what might change once a certain external influence starts to force her hoofs into the situation?

Will your daughter's mediating plan succeed, and a lasting rivalry be put to rest? Or will the situation be aggravated, and she will be forced to pick a side as a wedge is thrown between the two groups?
> Turn 4 - Results, part 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You stand up from where you were sitting, the sensation of Mansus-stone against your coat not exactly cold, but not warm and inviting either. A sliver of Wake logic comes to your mind, wondering how that sensation could be if the Glory is like a sun, and it shines down on all of the Mansus. But you quickly wave that thought aside, for this is not the Wake, and the light of the Glory is not like the sun. It illuminates, it reveals, and it cuts, but it brings no warmth.

You stare at the Blank Door, that sorrowful arch before you, and slowly walk towards it. You have been sitting there for a while, but now is time to take action.

"Sorrowful?", you ask yourself, "why did I think that this Door is…". You eye the Blank Door curiously. Could it be that it, or perhaps the Mansus itself, is whispering things to you, much like how it made you know that this entrance, this threshold, is the Blank Door? Does this entire floor, perhaps, has some sort of influence, perhaps akin to how the Woods causes your thoughts to turn and twist and dance?

Whatever it is, you are determined to learn the truth.



[Divining the secrets of the Blank Door, cd 70]

[Roll: 40 + 12 (Learning) + 10 (WINTER Level 1) + 10 (LANTERN bonus, doubled) = 72]

[Success]



You approach the Blank Door, coming so close that, much like the last time, the tip of your snout nearly touches the shadow of its arch. You close your eyes, and try to just… feel.

There is something about this entrance that just seems to be… so intensely familiar, so old and buried deep inside of you, like a secret whispered in your ear when you were a filly, forgotten after so many years have passed. Like the smell of your favorite place, that doesn't even exist anymore.

You realize that you should be feeling frustration about this, about the fact that you are so close to remembering something, and yet you are failing to truly reach it, but you feel nothing.

You only feel some sort of serenity that…

You open your eyes with a start and look down, tension filling your whole body and clearing your thoughts with a jolt as you realize one of your hoofs is raised, as if you were about to step through the Door. You slowly put it back down, and retreat a little for good measure.

What was this just now? Was the Door calling you in? Was this some sort of compulsion, or some kind of trap?

Or is this perfectly natural, and you are simply fearing something that you do not understand?

You take a deep breath once more, switching your focus. Perhaps you shouldn't give too much attention to the open passage itself. With this in mind, you move to the arch that makes the Blank Door, the ancient Mansus-stone construction that seems to have stood here since time immemorial.

"Everypony who ever entered the Mansus has passed underneath you, right? Well then, what sorts of things have you witnessed through all these years?"

You close your eyes, summoning up the jolt of inspiration you have been saving in a corner of your soul for this exact moment. You do not dare to whisper the words, not here inside the Mansus, not while under the light of the Glory, but you still reach deep within you to bring forth the Lantern you saw in the candles and mirrors and whispers of the ritual you made not long ago.

And when you open your eyes once again, you place a hoof on the cold arch of the Blank Door, bearing with you a wordless question.

But to your absolute surprise, you are given a wordless answer.

"Ah…" you whisper softly.

And a tear slowly falls from your eye, uninvited, falling down through your cheek and then to the ground.

"This is..."



 
"A Dream from Long Ago"
 



You were dead.

It finally happened. After all the struggles you have been through, after all the pain and tears, and after all the laughter and happiness, you were finally dead.

It was confusing, at first. You almost didn't understand what had happened. You remembered the flashes of something that happened far away, or perhaps long ago. Blurs of pegasus appearing from the snow-topped trees, marks of Edge and Forge in their flanks and murder in their eyes. You vaguely remember an earth pony running through the snow, knowing that fear and cold would claim him before his pursuers ever could. You think that the earth pony might have been you.

And then there were the crossroads. You did not know how you got there, and the dark mountains beyond the horizon frightened you with their distance, but the straight path right before you seemed inviting enough, so you followed it. And then there was the dark forest, in which you followed a siren call whose voice you couldn't rightly recognize, but that seemed somehow soothing.

But that all seemed so… distant now. You couldn't even remember ascending the great staircase that was behind you, as if the first memory of your whole life was of seeing this door before you.

As if that was also supposed to be your very last memory.

It was only then, before that arched door, that you realized you were dead.

Stories came to your mind. Whispered lessons taught by unicorn elders in their dark libraries, cheerful songs performed by pegasus around their sky-borne fire-clouds, memories that were odd because you were an earth pony so you should never have heard them. But still the stories came to you all the same.

About a House where the Sun resides, a Sun which is magnificent and bright, unlike the one that is seen while you were awake. About an edifice that most ponies will only ever visit once in their entire lives, during one of their dreams, and where ponies who seek true power fight to rise ever higher and learn about the secret ways of pain and metal and music. About the place from where everything came, once, and that is always right next to us, like a mother is to her foals or like a shadow is to a hunter.

About the very last door a pony will ever cross. The Blank Door.

About the Door you were about to cross.

Was this the end? Would you miss the loved ones you left behind, although you could not remember their faces? Would you simply cease to be?

Would it hurt?

You realized, although you did not know how, that the answer to all those questions was "No". You might have died, but what about it? You were just returning home. Like how every story must end in order to have meaning, you were just about to write a final period on the long story of your life, so it could be lovingly rolled up in a scroll and preserved for eternity, next to every other story that was ever written.

You were just about to walk out of the stage, and allow others to play their roles, knowing that you participated in the grand dance of life, and that you now deserved to rest.

This would be your conclusion. And as soon as you walked through that threshold the mark on your flank would turn blank again, and your horn would be gone if you had one, and your wings would be sheared away if you had them, and your connection to the land would dull and end if ever you had such a connection, and you would be like how all ponies once were before they stepped out of the Mansus in the very beginning.

And it would all be so very beautiful.

A tear, the very last tear you would ever shed, fell down from your eyes and through your smile, as you took your step through the Blank Door, and into the Blank Plains, and into your conclusion.





[You have divined the secrets of the Blank Door, it will no longer cause you a WOUND, as a price for your ignorance, upon passage]



"This is… the afterlife… This is the place where all ponies went after they…", you say without realizing, much like how your hoof step forward without conscious thought.

You step through the Blank Door. Fearlessly now, wordlessly, bearing with you the same knowledge that every pony who came before you possessed, carrying with you the realization that is given freely to the dead.

There is no way to truly describe how you should do it, you simply know. It is a silent knowledge, a wordless knowledge. A Winter knowledge.

You step through the Blank Door, and leave your cutie mark behind, together with your horn and the fire that burns within you, and you realize that the Blank Door in turn takes away from you the fears and hopes and confusion that you carry, like a servant might undress you of a heavy coat as soon as you return home.

Like that. Exactly like how you should feel when you return home.

The Blank Plains stretch before you eyes, and they are beautiful.



[Blank Door successful crossing action – Wandering the Blank Plains]

[Roll: 92 + 11 (Diplomacy) + 10 (WINTER Level 1) = 113]

[Rolling... New area discovered]



It seems to stretch on forever, a great plain, grass fresh from some recent rain blowing in a soft breeze, dotted with hills and bushes.

There is light here, and you know you would be feeling peace if you could feel anything. In fact, you almost feel like you should worry, as your body doesn't seem to be responding like it normally would. For a moment you even feel like you are a passenger behind your own eyes. But you know what you must do, and you whisper softly inside your head, asking for your hoofs to move and for your body to explore, and soon you are wandering through the plains.

There are no worries here, there is no panic to be felt inside your head, and there is no emptiness either. There are only the Blank Plains, and the endless directions to which you can wonder forever.

You pass through the lights that once were distant, and see that they are glowing bushes with glowing leaves. You notice that they are placed in auspicious formations, and you commit those formations to memory. Two concentric circles, joined together by signs and sigils, which in hindsight are as obvious as the sun and the moon, as the motion of night and day, as simple as drawing a small circle, and then a larger one around it.

So easy, so clear, so peaceful.

You know you have what you came for, but you feel no need to return either. Your cutie mark might be waiting for you, behind the Blank Door, together with your magic. But you know that, waiting there with them, are also your fears and pains and reasons to be happy. So why rush to return all that?

You have hugged your daughter enough times, haven't you? You have been happy and sad enough times, haven't you? And who knows, one day you might even meet your daughter again here, if she also learns the secret paths into the Mansus. So why bother returning at all? Eternity exists in here, so there is no harm in staying for however long you wish. There will be no harm at all, of any kind, ever again, if you never leave the Blank Plains.

You look towards the plains, that seem to go on forever, and spot a particular light coming from a particular hill. You realize that it is not the Winter light that surrounds you, or the glowing of the trees and leaves. Instead, it is the light of Lantern, so, out of curiosity, you head there.

The journey is not long, for that kind of thing is of no concern here, and neither it is arduous, for you cannot feel your body, and that is good. You merely keep whispering the curious whispers about that place, which you soon realize is a wooden lodge, and the hoofs of your body keep walking.

Until you are right in front of the wooden doors, colored like calm and peace thanks to the Winter light that bathes it.

"Oh my, a visitor? Just a moment dear!" you hear a voice from within the lodge. A voice! Can you believe it? There aren't supposed to be voices beyond the Blank Door, so why are you talking, silly?

The doors soon open, and a mare who looks to be your age, wearing glasses and with her mane tied into a bun behind her head, appears before you.

"By the Glory, a dead? No, wait, you are alive?!" she says, a smile forming in her face, and her hoofs soon ushering you in, "come on in dear, come in! It has been ages since I've had a visitor. I didn't even know ponies could reach here anymore!"

Her hoofs feel funny against you, where they touch your body. They feel like warmth and life, but most of all they feel like light and secrets. This mare seems to be quite somepony if even her touch feels like that, especially since you aren't supposed to be able to feel anything at all.

"Sit down, will you dear? I know you can't drink in the state you are, but allow me to get us some wine," she guides you towards a sofa, which would feel comfortable if you could feel, that sits before a fire.

You look around as the mare quickly excuses herself, taking the scenery in. You see various trinkets, some filled with memories and others filled with power, laid around over the fireplace and other cabinets. And your eyes finally wander towards the corner of the room, where another pony, with a smile and empty gaze and a blank flank much like yours, is sitting on a cushioned armchair.

"And here we are, what shall we toast for?" the mare finally returns, carrying a bottle of wine and two cups, "well, if you don't mind I'll toast for my first conversation in a long while. Shall we?"

She quickly sits next to you, serves the two cups, and clinks hers with the one she laid in the table before you.

"My dear, you have no idea how… Actually, where are my manners? I am Baldomare, and that there in the corner is Illopony, my dear beloved," she says, pointing to the blank pony, "and I take it this is your first time through the Blank Door, right?"

She drinks from her cup, looking at you curiously.

"Well, I know how you feel, or rather how you don't feel. My oh my, are you going to feel confused when you wake up. Oh, but just a piece of advice, try not to go insane when you wake up, alright? The Blank Plains have this effect on everypony" she gives you a light tap on your head, "don't worry, you're not an unfeeling monster or anything. It's just… how the dead feel, and you're alive right now, as you will be once you wake up, so don't think you simply up and forgot about everypony you love or anything."

She takes another sip from her wine.

"A lot of good ponies went mad, thinking like that. Other simply gave up from scaling the Mansus…" she seems thoughtful as she speaks.

"But that's neither here nor there. No, it is you who are here! And you seem to be new to all of this, so why don't I tell you a little something to get our conversation started?"

She then leans close to you and whispers a secret of about the nature of mirrors that tickles against your ear. You find that funny because, again, you know that you are not supposed to be able to feel anything, and yet you do.

"It's a shame you can't really answer me. I'd love to know about how the world is going ever since this whole mess started. But here, let me tell you a story about how…"

Baldomare speaks happily to you for a good period of time, and everything she tells you seems so very interesting. But then she says something about time and sunsets and the need to leave, so she quickly takes you by the hoof and escorts you back to the Blank Door.

She is gone before you finish crossing back through the threshold, and your mind is still numb with peace and cold for some time, even after you regain your cutie mark and your voice.

So you quickly make your way back into the Wake.





You wake up in your bed, alone. It is still night, and your blankets feel heavy over your body.

And you feel cold.

You feel cold.

Not the sort of cold that you might feel from being in the rain, but a particular kind of cold that seems to come from deep inside you. A chilling in your soul.

You feel a tear coming down through your cheek. You remember everything perfectly, and this is not the tear of realization from when you realized what the Blank Door is, nor the tear of peace you felt while witnessing a dream that was not yours.

No, you know that this single tear is coming down through your face because you are afraid.

You curl up in your bed, hugging yourself, and you realize you are shivering. What in the heavens just happened?! Did you die? Are you really alive right now? Did you perhaps leave something behind that you will never get back?

You mull over the feelings you had inside the Mansus, and you can't be sure if it was a mercy or a cruelty that you couldn't feel anything while in the Blank Plains. You couldn't feel pain or cold, but you could also not feel love, even for your own daughter.

Did you really, truly think, even if for just a moment, that it would have been fine for you to never see her again? Or your husband, or anypony else? For you to stay there forever?

For you to simply stay dead?

You recall the words of Baldomare, that pony who, despite the fact that she is living inside the Mansus didn't flare any curiosity in you when you met her, thanks to your unfeeling state. You recall how she said that this is natural, that this is how a pony feels after crossing the Blank Door.

That you shouldn't think you are a monster.

But that, you realize, is easier said than done, and you can't find any peace whenever you recall the thoughts and feelings, or lack of feelings, that you experienced within the Blank Plains.

The Mansus, you realize once more, is a frightening place, and you wonder what other sorts of things await if you decide to scale it even further.

You shake your head, hugging your pillow tight. This is not the time for you to think about such things, and this pillow isn't nearly enough to comfort you.

With shaking hoofs, you throw your pillow aside, and float your blanket away from you. And before you rationally realize what you are doing, you are already out of your room, your horn opening your daughter's door with a faint glow of magic.

The more you think about it, the more you manage to calm down about the experience you have just been through, and you are sure that you will commit it all to paper in order to study it better later. But right now you still feel cold and empty, and maybe just a tiny bit dead, and you are sure that you do not want to spend the rest of the night like this.

With another glow from your horn you slowly, gently, sequester the bundle of blankets that you know to be your daughter, and you silently float her back to your room.

You need company, her company, and although your daughter is smaller than your pillow, you also know that she has all the warmth in the world that you will ever need.





You have witnessed something, perhaps a memory from a long dead pony, perhaps a memory from the Mansus itself. But whatever it was, it was once a precious truth. Gained one scrap of SECRET HISTORIES lore.

You have braved the Blank Door, beyond which the lesser laws of the Mansus sprout in trees and grass, put into the proper configuration by the very winds. You have learned the secrets to enact a Ritual that allows for two aspects of Lore.

You have wandered through the White Plains, and have found the Lodge of the Sage Pony, committing the path that will take you there to memory. You may now visit the Lodge of the Sage Pony anytime.

Although she claims to not be the Sage Pony, Baldomare seems to know a great many deal of things. You have met Baldomare, and her beloved Illopony.

Baldomare has whispered a secret to you like a friend might whisper a gossip or like a pony might engage in small talk, but to you who knows so little that secret is precious. Gained one scrap of LANTERN lore.

LANTERN lore is now level two!
> As per Request
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You are Silky Stream, and you are about to wake up.

You fumble slightly in your half-sleep, under your blanket, and you realize that you are hugging something very large and warm. Like some sort of big teddy bear or a pillow that...

Oh, wait!

You open your eyes slightly, still feeling a bit sleepy, but you recognize that feeling, that special warmth mixed with a small bit of nice perfume. You're hugging your mom!

Or rather, almost being tackled by her. You are currently right between her forelegs, being pressed against her chest. Which is fine, after all you love your mom very much. You hug her back and press your head against her fur for a bit longer, slowly waking up more and more as the light of the sun grows stronger from beyond the curtains of her window.

Until a few dots start connecting in your head. You don't exactly remember coming to her bed during the night. In fact, you haven't done that in years, you've grown up enough that you aren't scared of the dark anymore, and you haven't had a nightmare for quite a while now. So this is strange... what exactly are you doing here?

You wriggle away from your mom, slowly, sneaking away from her hug inch by inch, freezing for a few seconds whenever you feel her move slightly. Until you can get a better look at her face.

Oh no... you can see it, even with the weak light of the blocked out sun. Your mom is sad.

You feel a small knot inside your chest. This is bad.

You know your mom gets sad sometimes. In fact, you know she used to be sad a lot more, when you were younger and when she thought you weren't looking. She would never be sad around you, and you that is because you make her happy, as she tells you all the time. But your daddy told you once about this, about how she can feel down sometimes, and the two of you made a few secret promises so you could help your mom feel happier.

Like the promise you made to never talk about grandpa near her, and the promise you made to always behave and be a good filly, and the promise you made to never fly or run away too fast because you know that she can't run that well, even if she says it's no big deal. You made a lot of promises to your dad, and they all work! Your dad knows your mom really well, of course, and ever since the two of you started working together, you don't see your mom as sad as she used to be, when you were younger. You also know about other things that work, like when you and your dad surprise her with something, or when she comes back from book club or from an afternoon with her friends, or when she reads a good book. All sorts of things.

But right now, your mom is sad and you don't know what to do. And that makes you very worried.

"Mooom..." you press your hoofs against her chest, shaking her slightly and trying to whisper her awake, "mommy... Mooom!"

"Mmm? Wha... Oh, good morning Silky..." until she finally wakes up, blinking in confusion for a few seconds until she realizes where she is, and hugging you back just a bit more, "yes dear, what is it?"

You can see a smile in her face, but it's a tired smile, the kind of smile you usually see when she kisses you good night before going back to work in her office. Your mom didn't rest at all!

"Mom..." you start speaking, hesitantly, unsure exactly of what to say, "is everything alright?"

You can see her looking at you, the small smile in her face turning into something else that... you don't know what is. But she hugs you, burying your face in her fur this time. And although this is good, because you love your mom, you really can't help but feel a bit worried that you can't see her expression as she answers you.

"Everything is fine, sweetie. Why wouldn't it be?"

But, with your head buried in her chest, you can feel a slight tremor in her voice.

"Mommy, are you... sad?", you ask, feeling the strength of her hug waver for a second.



[A White lie]

[Her Roll: 23 + 11 (Intrigue) + 5 (GRAIL bonus) = 39]

[Your Roll: 54 + 7 (Intrigue) = 61]



"Of course not, sweetie..." you hear her answer.

With that same tremor in her voice, only this time just a little heavier.

"Mommy," you insist, feeling the knot on your chest get a little larger, "what's wrong? What happened...?"

"Nothing happened sweetie, I just..." you hear something strange in her voice, something that you don't know what is and that makes you feel very bad. But you know you are worrying about her even more than you are feeling bad right now.

But why isn't she telling you what's wrong? Maybe the cause of the problem she is having is... you? Maybe you don't make her happy anymore? That thought terrifies you, so you hug her back, stronger now, and try asking one last time.

"Mom... you know I love you, right?"

You hear her breath in heavily, sharply, and she hugs you tightly. You almost think you felt her sniff a little bit.

"I know sweetie, it's just that... Mommy had a very bad dream, where she was in a far away place and she wouldn't ever be able to see you or daddy again and..." you hear her voice break a bit, and her chest is shaking even when she's not speaking now, "and mommy felt very scared and..."

You wriggle away from her hug, gently, making your way up between her arms and towards her neck, until you are level with her eyes.

And you can see that your mom is very tired, and very sad.

So you hug her neck, as strong as you can. Strong enough for her to know just how much you love her, strong enough for you to squeeze the sadness away from her, if you can. And she hugs you back, although you can feel her breathing heavily, and you think something wet might have rubbed against your mane. She simply hugs you back, you hope, because she knows just how much you love her.

"Me and daddy aren't going anywhere mom. I promise," you whisper in her ear, and you can feel her nod as she puts a hoof on the back of your head.



The two of you stay like that for a very long time, and you don't go to school that day.
> On the eve of the Ritual
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Artifact hunt – Servant Action]

[Roll: 22 + 12 (Learning) = 34, Level 2]

[Suspicion: 50 + 20 (Level 2) = 70. Moderately suspicious, bound to cause some whispers wherever you take it, if you allow it to be seen.]

The cut off appendage of some insectoid creature, encased in glass. Your servant also wrote that the salespony insists that the artifact is, somehow, cursed, although he did not get into detail.

MOTH artifact

Level 2

Cost: 100 bits



You fold the report back into the letter where it came in and stash it in a drawer of your desk. You will think about it later.









SNAP.



You wake up with a start, sitting upright in less than a moment, your heart pounding inside your chest. You are awake, you are sure of it. You are in your room.

And you know what you have just heard.

You look around, but total darkness surrounds you. It must be way past midnight, during that awkward time when the moon is not yet angled for its light to be seen through your closed curtains.

For some reason you start breathing heavily. Tension fills your muscles as you start hearing… something coming from a deep corner of your skull, a buzz of some sorts that grows louder and louder. Something is welling inside your heart, and it is neither fear nor terror, but a close cousin of both that makes you want to run away while keeping you paralyzed in place.

You barely feel your husband's hoof, reaching sleepily for you as a response to your sudden movement. Every last ounce of your senses are aimed at your surroundings and around your bed. Looking for a moving shadow you know will be there, listening for the flapping of insect wings that are bound to come from outside of your head.



SNAP.



You look up, the sudden movement almost hurting your neck. It came from the ceiling.

You can feel it now. You absolutely cannot see it, not even as a solid shadow or a formless silhouette, but you can feel it right there. That… thing that is in your ceiling, holding itself in place with too many limbs, looking down at you with too many eyes. You can feel as it slowly inches towards you, using its terrible height to get closer to you while upside-down, as a normal pony might stand taller in order to reach a higher place with their mouth.

And you cower back into your bed in return, some primal instinct working to keep you as far away from that thing as possible, a wordless cry of terror stuck in your throat.

It stops, right when you feel that it's about to touch the tip of your mane, right when you no longer have any more room to cower into your bed, unless you rip your mattress and dive into the workings of the bed itself.

And you can feel it… sniff at you. With all the wrong sounds that a creature could ever make to fill its lungs, you feel it breathe in the air about you.

"You have seen it, have you not…?" it finally speaks, and you know that you would be trembling if you could move. You know that the thing above you is a terrible thing indeed, old and large and forbidding, but always in control of itself, always speaking through shadows and puppets so as not to scare away the small and soft things that gather around it for its knowledge and teachings.

But not tonight. Tonight, you can feel that its control is being supplanted by something else. Some sort of excitement. Some sort of urgency.

So it will not, cannot, bother with appearances. Tonight, it simply desires.

"You smell of…" another disturbing breath comes, accompanied by the sound of wings and clicking and scraping of claws and talons against the ceiling, "death… You smell of blankness and conclusions… Very good, little Velvet, very good indeed…"

You can hear it, buzzing in excitement, limbs clacking against each other in a parody of how a pony might tremble with anticipation, or clap their hoofs in glee.

You sense that it is opening its mouth, and you don't hear the next word it says so much as you feel it.



"COME."



Its voice is like a living thing. More than a suggestion, more than a command, it is like a compulsion, a separate entity all on its own. You feel that single word hit you like you would feel a swarm of insects cover your whole body, their legs grabbing at your fur, the hairs on their bodies scraping against your skin.

You panic, powerlessly struggling against the living wave of creatures walking over you, trying to swat away at things that are not there, closing your mouth shut as moths try to enter your mouth and ears and eyes. You fail, and you feel them filling your throat, blocking your lungs, eating their way into your head.

You try to scream, chocking at that horrible invasion, thrashing as you feel not that your life is leaving your body, but that something else is entering it.



You don't even realize when you wake up, hoofs against your throat and gasping for air.

Even though you were sure that this just now was not a dream.



Your limbs go limp for a moment, as you stare at the empty ceiling, your mind numb and confused, your body light as a feather.

Until you start feeling a certain… itch, under your skin. It grows slowly, gently consuming more of your attention, little by little taking up more of your thoughts.

And not long after you know what to do, and with a touch lighter than that of a passing breeze you ease your husband's hoof away from your body and jump out of bed.



[The Gathering Call, breakpoints 40/80/120]

[Roll: 83 + 12 (Intrigue) + 20 (MOTH bonus, DOUBLED) + 40 (THAT OLD YEARNING) = 155]

[Absolutely undetected]



You stand next to your bed, your husband fast asleep clutching at the still warm spot where you were next to him. He is adorable, in a way. So caring, so earnest.

So soft and covered in fur.

You see his face, in that total darkness, and notice a smile. You wonder if he is having a good dream. You wonder if you should whisper to him about the Woods, right before you leave.

But something else catches your fancy, and you make your way out your bedroom.

You sneak underneath the floor, through the large pathways opened to you by the shadows, you dance around the soft echo of light given away by the long dead candles of the corridors, and you crawl through the ceiling over the staircase.

You eye the keyhole of the main door, seeing it as an inviting exit towards the night, but the windows are closer to you, so you decide to ride a night breeze into the welcoming darkness that awaits outside.



Your body is wrong.



You know that. You can feel that your skin is too tight, constrictive almost. You feel that your joints and ligaments are jammed inside your legs and hoofs, and your tendons ache every time your try to flex them, the soft body that surrounds you protesting against the wounding effort. But it is what you have, for now, so it will have to be enough.

You jump from treetop to treetop, using passing leaves as cover from the light of the moon, slithering over the high walls of your estate, galloping under the shade offered by clouds towards the dark streets of the town.

You pass by locked doors and closed houses, smelling the sweet dreams that are happening within them. You pass by a couple, two ponies who smell of Grail and other things, but they give you as much attention as they might give to their own shadow, for there is nothing to be seen if they look your way. Even though you are larger than them, and you are more-limbed than them, and you cast a shadow inside of which they could get lost.



Your limbs are out of place.



You walk with urgency now, over lampposts and under rooftops, through closed windows and by the beds of sleeping fillies. Your passing is so quiet that you do not even disturb the occasional candle, your whispers so subtle that you do not cause even a single nightmare.

Until you finally arrive. At a building as unremarkable as any other, at a beacon covered by a smidge of Winter, but that is pulsing with the sacred pulses. A place where the Woods breach into the Wake.



Your body is wrong, your limbs out of place.



You reel at your own form, your skin itching for release, the things that should be on your back aching to burst out from the grip of your ribs, your members begging to cut through the muscles of your legs. But you endure, twisting for a few moments as you struggle for self-control, feeling the noises inside your head also coming from your chest and your back and the tip of your hoofs.

You focus all of that agony on the task at hand, your eyes focusing once more on the siren call of home, that comes from deep within the Woods. You wish to burrow through the ground, to reach it as fast as possible, but instead you sneak in through the locked window, and slide through the corners that the walls make with the floor.

You see the whole congregation gathered. Ponies walking blindly through the physical threshold that separates the dull Wake from the sacred Woods, their eyes useless where yours can see clearly. You see their markings and affinities written on their flanks, covered by dull cutie marks of useless skills and senseless symbolism. So many of them, so many souls seeking for the Glory like moths are drawn to light.

You see your compatriots gathered in the center of that place, at a central position of status and prestige. Such dull notions.

You see Comet Feet, next to Windy Flakes, the hoofs of both of them dripping with the ghost of recently spilt blood, dedicated to different aspects. You see Copper Secateur and her satisfied smile, the lush of something delectable within her, like the bud of a small flower. You see Starry Dancer, trying to listen to the music that has been haunting her, which she does not yet know to be the beating of her own heart.

You see Jade Whistle, her eyes filled with the tiny candle-flames of Lantern, sparks that might grow if fostered. And she sees you back, or at least the shadows you cast against the wall, her neutral face flashing with sudden fear as she bows down, mistaking you for your Master.

And you see your Master, great and large and magnificent, still hiding deeper in the darkness, a playful mood about him at Jade Whistle's sudden fright.

You see the smile on the face of its body.



Your body is wrong, your limbs out of place.



But you care for none of that, landing in the middle of them, in the single-aspect circle that Jade Whistle had prepared beforehand. Your compulsion is like a physical pain now, and the only way to satisfy it will be by performing your work.

The other four, surprised by the sound of Jade Whistle's sudden movement, practically jump at your arrival, that sudden and hard thump they must have heard coming from the place in the middle of the circle. But you do not care, and you reach out with your constrictive legs and pitiful hoofs, digging into the black dirt of the ground, expanding it with the patterns you learned within the Mansus, making it larger so it might accommodate the attention of more of the laws.

Such is your focus, and your aching, that you almost do not notice the conversation around you.

"By the…"

"What the hell was that?"

"Is that noise… Velvet?"



SNAP.



"She is one who has fulfilled her duty," a parcel of your mind focuses more clearly now, at the sweet melody that is the drone of insect wings, and the scraping of dark branches, "but how fared you all on yours?"

There is a buzz of words and whispers. Several of the ponies in the crowd gathered around the group talking in hushed tones, a few of the inner circle closer to you reacting in their own emotional ways. But one by one they do speak.



Your body is wrong, your limbs out of place.

You dig another quarter of a circumference, your time is running out.



"I… well… I have decided to go deeper into the Edge, Master," the sharp voice of Comet Feet barely registers in your ears, "I feel that I am reaching the exercises of the third intensity, and I aim to become everything we will need on that matter."

"We have procured the a new place for gathering. Its previous owner will no longer bother us, although…" you can feel Windy Flake's smile, a Winter smile, crossing his lips, "we might have a bit of a problem with an ongoing investigation. But apart form that, I shall be transferring our operation there in the coming month."

You try and reach for the other side of the circle, but realize your limbs are being blocked by some of your organs. Annoying. You jump to where you need to be, and continue the preparations.

"Mayor Mare trusts me completely now, Master sir. But I… couldn't even begin to work with talking to law enforcement… Sorry Windy?"

"Its alright Starry. More fun."

"And I managed to train a few disciples to help spreading around the word, they can even be sent to another city to start a cell there," you think you notice the pleasant voice of Copper Secateur, "although I'd rather if they didn't until they are tested. But the time I spent with them meant I couldn't look for any new recruits these past two months.

You dig your useless horn into the dirt, drawing the cycles of the moon and the lines of the Mansus with the delicate attention that they require. Part of you wishes that your horn will just fall off from the effort, seeing how much of you it is blocking inside your skull, another part of you could hear a few worried gasps from the ponies around you.



Your body is wrong, your limbs out of place.

Almost there.



"The cadre is trained, Master. We have followed your instructions and are ready to assist on the two-aspect ritual," you can feel Jade Whistle's Lantern-gaze upon you, too weak to penetrate the shadows, the worry in her mind trying to guess exactly what is taking place.

"Very good…"

You start heaving with effort, feeling something deep inside you twist in the wrong way. The itch on your whole body becoming almost maddening as it recedes into deeper places inside of you. Your lungs ache with protest as you realize you are becoming lesser, your task still unfinished.



Your body is wrong, your limbs out of place.

Just.

Your body is wrong, your limbs out of place.

One.

Your body is wrong, your limbs out of place.

More.

Your body is wrong, your limbs out of place.

LINE.



You scrape a hoof and close the second circle, and then you collapse on the ground. You feel your hoofs trembling, you feel your entire body trembling in fact, and you don't even have the energy to stand up.

Reality finally settles around you like a splash of cold water. Where are you? What in the heavens just happened?! Your memories of but a few seconds ago seem to be draining from your mind like sand in an hourglass. You look around you and you see nothing but darkness, the feeling of dirt under your body, the smell of the Woods coming from nearby.

"Velvet, here, its all right" you hear a voice next to you, hoofs quickly coming around you. It takes you a while for you to recognize that voice as being Jade Whistle, and you are equally surprised at the emotion you feel from it. Jade Whistle always sounds so calm and collected, almost bored at times. What just happened that shocked her so much?

"Here, come with me. You are with us now, you are back. You are safe," she says, as if trying to calm you down, or perhaps calm herself down, but you are too confused to even feel scared about anything. "Comet, help me with her. I know none of you can see but follow my voice."

A pair of stronger hoofs suddenly grab at you, but you are too weak to even react properly. You just let Comet Feet carry you, and he places you next to the ponies you soon realize are Copper Secateur and Starry Dancer.

You breathe deeply, again and again, feeling the cool air slowly bring sense and reason back into your mind. You memory is a blur, but you think you understand part of what just happened, or at least of what you just did.

But you also know that nopony witnessed anything. You know they heard leaves and wings and snaps and other things, but the total darkness of this gathering place means that nopony might ever truly know what transpired.

Except, maybe, Jade Whistle. But you suspect that even she didn't see… everything.

You take a final breath and let out a long sigh, as your mind finally stops spinning. You realize that Copper is holding your hoof, and that Starry seems to be hugging you, but before you can thank them you feel the final presence that now stand in the middle of the circle.



"Beautiful…" it whispers to itself, and the sound seems to come from all directions at once.



"My followers, I have once again called you all in urgency because we stand at the precipice of something great. Our brotherhood is still small, and our efforts may sometimes feel too feeble for the grand goal we have in mind..."

The wind blows from the Woods, although you know you are underground. You hear the gathered ponies around you whisper in wonder.

"But doubt not for a moment, we aim to save Equestria from what it cannot understand, from the dangers it refuses to see. And we will do it by walking the path of opportunity that the alicorn Luna has laid out before us. What we do tonight will be the first true step in that direction."

You hear hoofsteps, the presence seeming to walk around the inner circle as if talking to each of you, walking through the crowd as if giving each individual pony its attention.

"We shall strike at her within her own domain, within her own dreams and mind. We shall raid the libraries of her memory and recover knowledge that has been lost, we shall seek to understand her weaknesses so that we may harness them…" the voice lowers its volume for a moment, its preaching turning into one of warning, "and I offer you all the choice, to witness… There will be lessons to be learned, and your eyes will be opened. But recall the lessons of Lantern and the folly of Moth who seeks for it: knowledge is never kind."

You can feel your Master's yes, if it even has eyes, go over and through all of you, and you understand that you must make a choice.

You swallow something dry in your throat, and make your decision.



[] Witness. (You will accompany the Ritual, and be presented with further choices at the end of it.)

[] Do not. (You have faith in your Master, and for you it is enough that you follow. This will solidify your obedience, and make it much harder for you to want to, or be convinced to, betray your cult. But there is comfort to be found in ignorance.)





This is a very important vote, in which you will form your motivation and plans for the immediate future. Not witnessing will lock you in loyalty, if that is what you wish. Witnessing the ritual will present you with further and more complex options. But it will not be a pleasant experience.

Your body is wrong, your limbs out of place, your body is wrong, your limbs out of place, your body is wrong, your limbs out of pl-. Gained two scraps of MOTH lore.
> When Histories Change
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



You have decided... to witness.




Are there individual moments in which a pony's life changes forever? Can such a thing be truly pinpointed into a single point in time? Or are those moments, by necessity, the result of a long line of decisions and occurrences?

And what of the world? Do those moments exist for it? Are there moments in which the knots of HISTORY converge, and spear towards the future in a different direction?



If those moments exist, then this is surely one of them.


...





You are Princess Luna, and you feel… conflicted.

It is late in the night now, late enough for it to be almost morning, and you stand on your balcony looking down at Equestria, or at least the parts of it that fit within your view.

So much has changed, so many things have happened while you were… away. You recall the time when you could see the entirety of the pony kingdom if you just flew up from the Castle of the Two Sisters. The farthest settlements would not even reach beyond the horizon, and you could gaze at all of your charges, those you were meant to protect, from that singular point of vantage.

Or at least you think that's what you recall… you have the impression that you used to have that feeling, at least. But now, although your balcony is high on the side of a mountain, you can only see a small parcel of Equestria from your room.

You let out a conflicted sigh. "Your room", that's… a way to put it.

You wish you could feel angry, your wish that you had the right to feel angry, but you don't… you know you don't. The Castle of the Two Sisters is in ruins. You turned it into a ruin, as far as the history books go, much like you made a ruin of half of Equestria.

Yes. A ruin. You are not blind to the magnitude of your crime.

You sister tries to hide it from you, but you have enough memories from back then to know that some of the rivers and lakes that you gaze upon were not there before, and those do not appear in a mere thousand years. Not to mention certain hills, near and far, and an entire mountain range at the edge of the horizon that just seem unnaturally wrong. You know just how much destruction your duel with your sister must have wrought.

And that is just a parcel of your crime, the part of it that you committed against your people. Equally heavy in your heart is the labors that you have forced upon your own sister after that. Upon your beloved Celestia.

She was left behind, and it was up to her to clean up the mess. Rebuild the cities, care for the survivors, and carry the weight of the sun and the moon on her shoulders. She had to do all that so long ago, and for so long… And yet, for all the horrible things you have made her go through, she still loves you. She even had the care to have this room ready for you when you returned, something about her excitedness when she showed it to you telling you that it probably looks almost exactly like your old one.

So you know there are several things you don't have the right to do. You have no right to feel angry about any of this. You have no right to be ungrateful about anything you have been given. And you most certainly do not have the right to keep failing at your duties as you consistently have these past months.

"So why do we feel so…" you place your hoofs over the marble fence of the balcony, resting your head against your forelegs.

So why do you feel so wrong?

Despite your horrible transgressions, your sister (and your people, if she is to be believed) has welcomed you back with open hoofs. Equestria stretches and prospers far beyond the horizon. Even the dream realms are peaceful, with you needing but to intervene in a few dreams every now and then.

Everything is how it was supposed to be, isn't it? Everything is fine now… right?



"So why can't we help but hate ourselves?!" you bang a hoof against the fence of the balcony, hearing a small cracking sound.



You take a deep breath, trying to still your thoughts. Wrath will not do, you repeat inside your head, and neither will breaking anything, you think as you slowly take your hoof from the ruptured surface of the fence.

But the question remains. Why are you feeling like this?

You don't know. And that might be the cause of the whole problem, you don't know anything.

You are conflicted, your every day and every thought haunted because you have been made ignorant of what truly transpired.

Your sister insists that it is a mercy from the Elements of Harmony, and she refuses to go into any detail, saying that if the Elements think it wise for you to forget, then it is probably for the best that you do. But the fact remains that you have absolutely no recollection of what happened, what you did or why you did it.

You do not even remember how your life used to be before your return.

The very last memory you have is a vague recollection of you raising the moon and doing your duties, some nebulous gestalt of how you think your life was, over a thousand years ago. But after that, there isn't even a blank, there is nothing at all, just the blinding rainbow light of the Elements of Harmony that you saw before collapsing in the ruins of the Castle of the Two Sisters, a few months back when you finally returned. And the only things you have learned since is what some few fairy tale books are willing to teach, which amount to little more than misshapen folklores and puzzling holidays.

Not even a solid memory from your childhood remains, if you even had one. Only vague flashes of lessons from Star Swirl, several disconnected feelings and reminiscences, and a puzzling impression that your sister's mane was of a different color.



But that's just not fair. It's not fair that you don't remember.



And you don't mean its not fair to you, you don't deserve fairness after what you did. This thought tortures you because it's not fair to Equestria. It's not fair to your beloved sister.

You failed. You hurt those you were supposed to protect, you betrayed the pony you love the most, and in the end she was forced to stay behind and pick up the pieces. And now that you are back, everypony including her is acting like there was no harm in that. Like there is no crime for you to pay for. As if you were innocent.

And you don't even understand what happened to you. You can't even remember what you did, or why you did it.

You don't even know what was the source of your greatest sin, Every time you look at a mirror you just see a pony who might do it all again since you have no idea of what caused it.

And that thought terrifies you.

Sometimes you think it would have been better if the Elements had erased you, together with Nightmare Moon. Celestia seems to be doing just fine all by herself, after all. But sometimes, you think that this, these doubts and confusion, just might be your punishment after all.

You look down, not towards the land far below, but at your own hoofs.

"But sister says we will feel better, someday, so… at the very least she deserves that we try to follow her advice."

That is the last comfort you have, although you do not deserve any to begin with. At least, despite all of this, you still have your sister. You might not remember anything, you might not even remember yourself, but at least you know her. You will always know her. And though you might not deserve the warmth that you feel when you are by her side, you know your presence makes her happy.

So you will keep trying, for her sake if nopony else's.

An auspicious chime comes from the great clock inside your room, and you know it is time. You close your eyes and concentrate on your horn, as using it still feels slightly strange. Not as strange as it was on the first few days, you recall that you literally choked on your magic on your very first try after your return. But it still feels like there is something a bit muddy about it, like there is something dirty inside of you that you cannot force out or clean no matter how hard you try.

However, you know that you are able to do this much, without having to bother you sister that is. This is one of the duties that you can perform, even if imperfectly.



[To lower the moon: personal CD 50]

[Roll: 25 + 50 (Alicorn) – 30 (Scars of Nightmare) = 45]



Right…?

Right?

You struggle with your magic, feeling it rebel against your will, the nerves inside your horn flaring in pain as your energy tries to force itself through what you can only describe as blockages. You feel those same nerves tug and wince through their whole extension, from those struggling points in your horn to the tip of your wings and hoofs.

"Just… Move…! Sky damn you!" you throw your patience to the wind, and force three times as much magic as you would need for this, using brute force in place of finesse. The moon practically shines with magic, the subtle glow around it increasing into a shockwave as you fling it down the horizon.

The effort leaves you panting. In anger, not exhaustion. But panting you are regardless.

Another failed setting of the moon. Another show of disappointment from "Princess Luna". You grit your teeth at the dark horizon, feeling your pulse rise as you realize that, with this, you will have finished the night without having done a single thing correctly. Again.

As you look to the horizon you feel a surge of energy heading towards it, its pulse elegant like a symphony while yours was a roar of anger, and you know that your sister is raising the sun from her own balcony, not far from you.

You almost feel her energy reaching out slightly towards you, like a comforting hoof.

But you do not care. You watch your stars being snuffed out by the coming light for a while longer, and make your way back into your room. Maybe in a dreamless sleep you will find a semblance of peace.


[Luna has failed in her task, and this has affected her. She will receive a "-5, Frustrated" debuff for the remainder of the night.]


You cover yourself in your blankets, the smell of the concoctions used to clean it still feeling unfamiliar to you, even after these past months, and close your eyes.



[Two Aspect Ritual: The Path Through Nightmares]

[CD: 60 KNOCK, variable MOTH]

[KNOCK roll: 48 + 13 (Magic, Jade Whistle) + 10 (Jade Whistle's Cadre) + 50 (KNOCK Level 5, the Master) = 121]

[The Ritual successfully establishes a bridge towards the desired target]

[MOTH roll: 53 + 13 (Magic, Jade Whistle) + 10 (Jade Whistle's Cadre) + 70 (MOTH Level 7, the Master) = 146]

[Escape CD set at 146]



Down we go.




Into the mind of a Demigoddess




"Lu… Luna…? Luna…"

You feel a pair of hoofs shaking you, the sensation distant and numb.

"Luna…! Wake up sister…!"

Distant, yet insistent. Enough for your body to give up on ignoring it, despite your mind's protests.

"Luna!"

"Huh? Wai…" you blink at the dark-blue ceiling of your room, that is currently being eclipsed by something large and white, "Sister…?"

"Finally. You know, you are supposed to be the Princess of Dreams, not the Princess of Sleeping," you hear a gentle laughter.

But your mind is still too numb to process whatever she meant by that. Your pillows still feel too soft and warm around you.

"Why do you wake us, sister…" you finally say with a slurry voice, while you spy at your room's clock from between the embrace of your pillows, "t'is not even midday, sister mine… We must sleep…"

You hear her sigh, the kind of sigh that you know to be serious, even after being away from her for so long. Your mind immediately sharpens, and you are already shaking your head awake before her smile totally disappears from her face.

Your sister is conflicted. You see it as clearly as you would feel your own turmoil.

"Luna, there is… there is something I would like to talk to you about," she seems to be in deep thought, as if unsure of how to say something, "although I am not sure if…" but she hesitates once more.

"Thou hath never been one to pick thine words, sister, and you know that is even less needed with us," you say to her, shaking the last of your drowsiness away, an encouraging smile softly appearing on your lips, "please sister, you may confide in us anything."

One of your hoofs goes towards hers without conscious thought, but you see her doubts finally giving in at that.

"You are right Luna" she says, taking a deep breath, "and what I would like to talk about with you is… about back then."

You are taken a bit by surprise, in truth you were not expecting this. After all you have asked her about this subject many times before, albeit to no effect, for she would not reveal to you the truth about what had taken over you. You have asked her about it, pleaded to her, begged even. You have felt rage and impotence at her adamant decision not to reveal you anything, and even vented such feelings on her once. But in return, she would always ask back that you trust in the Elements of Harmony, then she would plead, then she would beg. Her emotions growing with your own whenever you attempted to breach that topic.

And in the end, after you had given up on your queries, she would always apologize.

Those had been puzzling experiences, for you could see that, somehow, those questions would hurt her as well. In the end she would always embrace you, and ask that you forgive her for not giving you any answers. And deep down you could feel through the bond that you share, the one that runs deeper than magic, that she felt pain in denying you as much as you felt for being denied.

So you had given up on asking or searching for answers, accepting the agony of your ignorance as a form of punishment. Coming to terms that the mockery that is your perceived "innocence" is but a burden you will have to carry forever.

But here stands your sister, right now, offering those answers freely.

You can see the conflict in her eyes. She must have given this a great deal of thought, and this surely is not being easy for her.

However, mystifying as this situation may be, you can't help but feel some sort of warmth in your chest. You have no idea why she had denied you those answers so far, but something deep inside you whispers that it is because she is trying to avoid something. Stop something from happening.

Many times, during sleepless days, you have wondered that maybe she was doing this because she thinks you are too weak, that she is protecting you from something. Maybe, you thought many times already, she fears that you will turn into a monster again if you remember.

But you also know that she can feel your struggles. And maybe, just maybe, her love for you has finally won over her caution, and she has finally decided to set you free from your doubts.

You will show her, you will prove to her that you are strong enough to remember what happened, that you are strong enough to stand by her side as her sister. You will prove to her that she can trust you, and that she needs not coddle you as a mere younger sibling. You can, and will, help her carry the weight.

You are not a monster, and you will never be one again.

"Oh sister, we can't express how much we…" you look into her eyes, and you can see reflected back at you your same doubts and fears. And you instantly know that she is thinking the same thoughts, fearing the same fears, and that both of you have arrived at the same conclusion.

The two of you nod at each other. No words are needed.

"The memories of that time are deep within you, Luna. The Elements of Harmony may have locked them away, but they did not erase them," she speaks, her tone a mix between soothing and serious as her horn starts to glow, "you will have to dig deep for it. But if you truly wish for it, then I am sure you will find them."

She touches your horn with her own, the two of them resonating with the strength of the bond you share.

"Open yourself to me. I will show you."

She places a hoof over yours and looks into your eyes with a trusting smile, before the light of your horns becomes so bright that you can't even see each other.

You feel her prodding at your memories, gently, and you allow her in. But she is merely showing you the direction. She will accompany you every step of the way, but it is you who must brave the darkness.



[Escaping the Dream, CD 146]

[Roll: 56 + 50 (Alicorn) – 30 (Scars of Nightmare) – 5 (Frustrated) = 71]

[Princess Luna is Entranced, she will receive a +10 bonus on her next attempt]



Open yourself to us. We will show you.

Down we go.




Deeper




"Lu… Luna…? Luna…"

You feel a pair of hoofs shaking you, the sensation distant and numb.

"Luna…! Wake up sister…!"

When a surge of memories comes to you. A conversation between you and your sister, a flash of light as your horns touched. You wake with a start, sitting upright in an instant.

"Ouch! Horn! Be careful!" your sister jumps back at the sudden prodding in her leg.

But you are already standing up on your bed and looking around, your eyes not believing what they see.

"Sister of mine, is everything well…?" Celestia asks you, a mix of curiosity and worry in her voice, "thou sudden movements has us a bit worried."

Your ears almost spring up at that. You do not remember when was the last time that you have heard your sister use the Royal We.

"Celestia, thou art…" you turn towards her in surprise, and your eyes finally settle at her properly, the feeling of surprise within your mind tripling when you see it.

You notice that her eyes are nearly level with yours, only slightly taller, and that her mane and coat are covered in a tone of pink. Your mouth nearly hangs open as you realize that her calm, collected and mature expression is… nowhere to be seen.

Your sister is… young. Everything around you is…

"Thou art… in all honesty weirding us out, sister of mine," Celestia looks at you with confused eyes, but quickly shakes her head and gives you a shrug.

The Celestia you know does not shrug.

"As it may be, we have come to warn you that we shall soon set the sun, although we did not expect to have to wake you. Now if you will excuse us, we are tired from the day," she says, exiting your room before you can answer.

You can barely contain your excitement. In fact, you almost stop your sister from leaving, but you are too busy recovering from your shock to be able to call for her before she closes the door.

"Was everything… like this?" you take in the scenario around you, with more attention now, and you fell it. Your mind is slowly filling the blanks, drawing in form the deepest parts of your subconscious, the details becoming sharper as if some sort of veil is slowly being pulled from deep within your mind. "Yes… this is how everything was… This room looks so much like the one where me and Celestia were, when she did her magic, that…"

The idea finally snaps inside your head.

"Of course! We are in a dream!" obvious as it is in hindsight, that last idea finally connects in your head as you recall what just happened. As your mind finally makes sense of the conversation you had with your older sister, and that flash of light, followed by your waking up here right after.

Celestia must have put you in a dream so you could remember your past, so your mind would open itself more easily. Your heart starts racing at the prospect of finally learning about what exactly transpired one thousand years ago. But you quickly calm yourself, an instinct borne from an affinity with traversing the dreams of ponies warning you of a great care you must have.

You are in a dream. And that being the case, it is imperative that you do not disrupt it, or else you might wake up, and your chance be lost. You still your excited thoughts and calm your beating heart, you must tread with care now.

After all, you do not want to leave this dream until you learn what you desire.



Correct.

You nod to yourself, more focused now.



So… you are in a dream, and this dream seems to be formed from your own memories. They are your own memories if you are interpreting this correctly, since you can feel the world change slightly as you give it more attention, feeling more real with each passing moment.

If this is truly so, then you must retrace your steps. You absolutely will not follow through, of course. You will never again betray your sister, not even in a dream like this. But if you live through those moments again, if only you witness what transpired in your past that made you do such a thing, then surely you will learn what happened.

"But we do not even remember what we used to do…" you ponder, murmuring to yourself, "what actions should we take that might lead us in the correct way…"

The answer comes to you, suddenly, in the form of a soothing sensation.

It is almost like you are listening to a melody, but sweeter, deeper within your soul. You are feeling, of course, a great magic spell taking place, you are feeling the power of a single pony moving the very heavens.

But in all of Equestria, you alone are feeling something much more beautiful. You are feeling the love of your sister in motion.

"But of course… thank you, sister of mine. Once more you show us the way," you say out loud, hoping that Celestia is listening, from where you know that she stands at the side of your bed. You can almost feel her horn against yours, the soft sensation of her mind gently guiding yours even now.

You walk towards the door that leads to the balcony, at the far side of your room. And the whole world seems to open itself before you.

"We didn't remember how beautiful it was…" you whisper, your voice trembling with sentiment.

The sun is setting on the horizon, its slow descent painting the sky a brilliant orange, lengthening the shadows as if the world itself was closing its eyes to sleep. An entire town stretches around you, structures of wood and stone that by every right should be simple and rustic, but that were clearly made with love and hard work. Large streets paved with hoof-crafted stone go in every direction, occasionally ending in small parks with beautiful greenery. Commercial stands from which ponies are just now leaving speak of commerce and progress, at the same time timid and vigorous.

A feeling of warmth spreads in your chest, and you feel heavy with emotion. So this is how it was like. Everywhere you look you see hope and promises for a better future. Even the Everfree Forest is there, in the far distance, surrounded by great monoliths that pulse with gentle unicorn magic, signature of your mentor. The forbidding wild forest kept as tame as a walled off park.

The scenery feels incomplete, however. The purple night sky is empty and slowly becoming darker, but even that fills you with a long-forgotten happiness, for you know what comes next.

You force your hindlegs into a mighty upward leap and spread your wings as soon as gravity starts to claim you, while you focus your concentration on your horn. And as naturally as you might move your own hoofs, the moon follows your movement, appearing in the opposite side of the horizon and slowly taking its place in the firmament of the world.

You shout in joy towards the night sky, laughing as you haven't laughed in as long as you can remember, entire constellations appearing over your head for every second of joy that you feel. This is what you were borne to do, this is where you are meant to be.

You look down, and the entirety of the pony kingdom is visible to you. All of it is bathed by the light of the moon, and all of it is within your reach, under your watchful protection. Not even the farthest settlements, those small and faraway beacons of candle-light, need to fear the night, for they are under the protection of its Princess.

Equestria might be large and intimidating, its scars running deep from the recently ended madness caused by the God of Chaos, as much as that might have been years ago. Its dark forests and high mountains might be populated by terrible creature, and the pony kingdom might be tiny when compared to all the dangers that surround it.

But Equestria is also the birthright of ponykind. They need not fear the coming days for you and your sister are here. The two of you, together, will ensure that ponies reach that bright future. No matter how long it takes, she shall be their nurturing beacon in the day, and you shall be their watchful guardian in the night.

This is what you had forgotten, you realize as you take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the cool air of the night. This is what every pony feels, when they fulfill the calling that is written in their cutie marks. This is the joy that fillies feel for the first time when they earn theirs.

This is happiness.

You thank your sister, profusely and deeply, for allowing you to remember all of this. For allowing you to be here, right now. This might be but a dream, a faded memory from long ago, but you know that once you wake up your mind will be at peace. You have finally remembered who you are, and what you are meant to do.

And of course, you realize as well, you know where to go now. The next step in remembering is so obvious that you feel like a fool for not realizing it before.

Eclipsed by the full moon, you focus on your horn again, feeling the magic inside every last sleeping pony resonate in return. And as naturally as one might cross a door, you send your consciousness into the realm of dreams, that shining beacon of peace



This happiness is the happiness you felt every night, when you picked up the torch of responsibility from your sister. This feeling of accomplishment, of being there for Equestria, of being there for your dear sister, is what you have been missing every single day ever since you have returned.

Remembering it, remembering your duty and who you are, was the first step. Now, you take the next.



[Escaping the Dream, CD 146]

[Roll: 82 + 50 (Alicorn) – 30 (Scars of Nightmare) – 5 (Frustrated) + 10 (Entranced) = 107]

[Princess Luna is further Entranced, she will receive a +20 bonus on her next attempt]

Down we go.




Deeper




You feel that you are going deeper now, and the image of a long and dark corridor stretches before you. Doors, locked by heavy chains, flanking you as you advance.

They are each an individual memory, you know, and they are each shut tightly behind multi-colored padlocks of many curious designs. One seems to be made of ruby, shaped like an apple, another has the complexion of a diamond about it. But why are there so many of them? Why are so many of your memories, hundreds, perhaps thousands, locked away?

There is somepony walking right behind you, lighting the way for you. That pony is tall and wise, and you immediately recognize it as your sister. That light, you know, is the golden light of her horn illuminating the path before you, casting away the shadows from that dark corridor and giving you the courage to press on.

Even though the light of her horn seems to remind you of the light of a Lantern.

Even though that Lantern seems to be giving off shadows, as if it is covered by Moths.



"Lu… Luna…? Luna…"

You feel a pair of hoofs shaking you, the sensation distant and numb.

"Luna…! Wake up sister…!"

You open your eyes, confusing memories from a few moments ago vanishing like a mist, the cold and hard reality of your room settling in its place.

"Luna please, you must wake up!"

Your eyes snap open, and you feel a slight burning sensation of tiredness from them. You have bangs under your eyes, you know, and the more you concentrate on the rest of your body the more you realize how weak you feel.

But above all else, you feel annoyed. And your feelings make themselves clear on your face as you glare at your sister.

"What is it, sister of mine? Can you not see that we were focused on our duty?" you snap at her, your voice slightly hoarse, "what cause do you have for bothering us?"

Your sister brings her hoofs away from you, backing off slightly, her expression an equal mixture of worry and sorry, and you feel annoyed at that as well. You know that she worries greatly for you, and that she has good reason for such worries.

And you feel annoyed at yourself for giving her cause to worry. "Annoyed at yourself" being the words you elect to use, in place of the more adequate "angry".

"But sister…" she says, sitting on the ground and trying to think of how to convey her feelings, "you have been at it for too long. We know it is so. Thou have been dream-walking since the last eve, and barely stopped but to raise the moon. It is nearly morning already, and as we wake up to raise the sun we still find you at it!"

"And what of it, sister of mine?" you retort, standing up from your sitting position and heading to your balcony, "is guarding the dream realms not my charge and duty? Is it wrong that I watch over the dreams of our subjects?"

Your answer is aggressive, and you can see your sister back off slightly at it, a tinge of hurt marring her expression as she hears your words. But you also know that she is somewhat… right.

You have been at it for too long.

There is something wrong with the dream realms, with the night as a whole. You feel it whenever you look at the skies, as if something is wrong with the empty space between the stars you place there, no matter how many new constellations you create to fill the void. You sense it whenever you patrol the dream realms, a maddening and unexplainable impression that you are being watched following you wherever you tread, keeping you on edge.

You experience it with your own eyes, in the form of the increased raids from the dangerous creatures of the wilderness. Monsters attacking settlements and small cities as if possessed, as if they are running away from something greater and more threatening than themselves, overwhelming militias and the small detachments of guards that you are attempting to found.

"But Luna…" you hear her words, her tone almost that of a whisper, "we worry for you… With each passing day your health suffers. Great as our subjects might think we are, the two of us still have very real limits, and we know that thou are fast approaching your own…"

But you will not burden your sister with that knowledge. She needs not to know of your plight.

No, watching over the night and guarding against its perils is your obligation. Your dear sister already has too much to worry about, as the cities grow larger and the need for order and guidance grows greater. She may have been borne for it, the sun in her flank may be the undeniable indicator that she is meant to guide and nurture, but you are her other half and you know her well.

You know that even her light has its limits, and by the love you have for her you will not allow anything else to be a further burden on her.

The fact that the dream realms also become greater, and that the borders between the pony kingdom and the perilous wilderness becomes more extensive, is your problem alone.

"We beg of you, beloved sister. At least sleep for today. Let us know that you at least allowed yourself to rest… please? For us…?" you hear her plead, but you shake your head in denial.

You do this for her, you think to yourself, hardening your expression much to your sister's sorrow. She already carries the weight of half the world on her back.

"Leave us be, sister of mine" you say, making it clear that you will not yield to her, "you have a kingdom to run, and subjects that await your light."

You sit at your balcony and focus on your horn, beginning the gentle descent of the moon towards the horizon with its glowing magic, making a point of ignoring Celestia as she dejectedly looks at your back. You can feel, even though you do not see it, that she tries extending a hoof towards you, but stops at the very last moment.

And that causes your heart to ache greatly.

It is only after you hear the door to your room being closed that you allow your expression to soften, and that you allow the sadness you feel, both yours and hers, to make itself known.

However, you still believe that your decision is the correct one. And with that, you walk towards the focusing circle you have in the middle of your room, the one from which your sister just woke you up, and send your mind back into the realm of dreams.



And some deeper part of you remembers this, some part of your consciousness that you cannot rightly identify recognizes this moment. Something was wrong, and you knew in your heart of hears that it was of the utmost importance that you found out what. Some great and terrible shadow was approaching, and you knew that you had to bend your every effort in order to find it.

For the sake of Equestria.

For the safety of your beloved sister.



[Escaping the Dream, CD 146]

[Roll: 17 + 50 (Alicorn) – 30 (Scars of Nightmare) – 5 (Frustrated) + 20 (Entranced) = 52]

[Princess Luna is Troubled, she will receive a +30 bonus on her next attempt]

Down we go.




Deeper




Deeper now. Darker now.

The shadows around you are a physical thing at this point, almost as if they are a barrier in itself. You know that you would never have gotten this far without the light of your sister's horn, coming from behind you. You know that you are getting very close now.

The doors that flank your path, much like the shadows, grow larger and heavier, tightly shut with more chains and with more of the locks now. Some are even sealed with two or three of them, where before there would only ever be one, and you see the patterns growing more clear. The apple-lock next to the lightning-lock, the diamond-lock giving of itself to strengthen the butterfly-lock and the balloon-lock. The five crystal symbols repeating themselves in their lock-shapes, keeping the chains tight. Warding against those terrible and foreboding doors.

You think you hear noises coming from behind them.

You think the noises might be screams.



"Lu… Luna…? Luna…"

You feel a pair of hoofs shaking you, the sensation distant and numb.

"Luna…! Wake up sister…!"

You practically jump back from the focusing circle, eyes wide with shock even as a pair of hoofs tries to hold you in place.

"Lu, sister dear, it's allright!" you heave, struggling against that grip for a moment, until you finally recognize that lightly pink mane and the worried voice of your sister.

You are back in your room, you are awake.

You are trembling.

"Here Lu, everything is fine now," she brings you into a hug, the warmth of her coat making you realize that you are covered in cold sweat, "we are here with you, you are safe."

You feel her hoof gently stroking your back, her own fear and tension at your state diminishing as you calm down.

But as your memories grow clearer, and you realize just what she has woken you up from, another emotion quickly comes to the fore of your mind.

"Why hath thou woken us, you fool?!" you push your sister away, making her fall on her back, the surprise in her face second only to the hurt in her eyes. "Have we not told you before not to disturb us so?!"

"But sister dear," she starts as she stands up again, her tone small and defensive, her voice confused, "you were having a nightmare, we… We felt it! T'was almost as if you were in danger and-"

"And thou thought it best to intervene?! Thou trust not your own sister to fulfill her duties?!"

You have no patience anymore, you feel exhausted.

It has been weeks now, since you realized what is wrong, what has been haunting your every moment with a sense of dread and impending ruin. And it has been weeks now that you have tirelessly attempted to locate the root of said problem, the cause for said dread.

Something is wrong with the dream realms. Or rather something wrong is within the dream realms.

You do not know what it is, and the dream realms have grown vast and complex with the passing years. But you have seen the signs. There is something large and… abhorrent stalking the corridors of ponykind's sleep, some fumbling violation of everything that should be, trespassing in its halls. It leaves scraping marks against the cutie-marked doors and a not-smell of decay wherever it passes. But you have not yet managed to track it.

Or at least, you had not managed to track it until this very night.

The recollections and recent memories continue to return to you, even as your sister continues to gaze at you, speechless and worried, with eyes both confused and hurt. But you have no time to worry about it, not as you recall that…

That's right, you had just found it.

You have found the thing, that dark and perfidious creature. You came upon a dream-door whose markings were recent, and you made haste to follow its trail.

But, you remember, whatever it is that you were pursuing also has an intellect of sorts, even if animalistic and instinctual. You remember that the paths you followed were long and confusing, that it knew it was being followed, and in return was attempting to throw you off from its scent. Backtracking and going several different directions, trying to scurry away from you.

You remember that it also had its eyes on you, now, and that your pursuit had turned into a mutual hunt. You were stalking and being stalked, searching and being searched for. And you had very nearly found your prey.

Until your fool of a sister woke you up, that is.

"Curses of stars and sky…" you finally say as you remember all of it, "we almost HAD it, sister. We would have been successful, if you had just not interrupted us!"

"Thou almost had what? Please Luna we beg of you, tell us!" she grabs your hoofs in her own, and you can almost see the threat of tears in her eyes.

You sister is terrified. Terrified that her beloved younger sibling has been overextending herself for far too long now, and refuses to tell her the reason. Terrified that perhaps she is failing her dear sister, somehow, by virtue of not being able to help her. Terrified because she feels, through the bond that you share, that something great and heavy has been burdening you, and she does not know what it is.

Terrified that you have been pushing her away, that you are obsessed with something and that she is not there for you, even though she is trying her hardest to be.

But you are too tired to realize it. Too exhausted to know what to do. Too close to your quarry to give up right now.

For you have finally found it, and it will escape unless you return immediately. You know it.

"You have not slept in… we don't even know how long!" she continues, "you barely eat, or speak to anypony! You spend every waking second on the dream realms and… you won't even tell us why…!"

She hugs you once more, tighter than before, even putting her wings around you as if afraid that you will disappear if she lets go of you.

You know all of that, you can feel all of that clearly, because she is your sister, and there is nopony else in all of Equestria that you know so well, or that knows you as well as she does. Much like how you know that you will fall asleep if you but close your eyes, that your exhausted mind might just give in and doze off right here, if you are not careful.

And how you wish to do it, to have just a tiny bit of rest right here, in the safest place in all of Equestria: within the embrace of the one who loves you the most.

You snap your eyes open. You very nearly did.

"Luna, please, just listen to us and… Luna…? Luna?!"

You hear your sister's voice almost as if she were at a great distance from you, growing desperate as she realizes that your horn is beginning to glow, and that you are reaching with your magic towards the focusing circle that surrounds the two of you.

"Sister, please! Don't! We want to help, please let us help y-!"

You force your mind to cross to the other side, sheer willpower dragging your consciousness, even while your feelings, rationality and even your exhausted body begs you not to.

You open your eyes in the dream realms. Alone. This is a place into which your sister cannot follow you.

And whatever warmth that you were feeling from her tight hug, whatever fear that you were hearing from her voice, departs from you in an instant. Your senses become sharp as you focus on your surroundings.



You are back in the hunt.



The dream realms look like the inside of a castle, only without a roof. Corridors of hoof-crafted brick stones run in every direction, interrupted every now and then by pleasant courtyards and gardens with marble fountains. There is nothing to be seen if you look up, though, only an endless and starless blackness.

The not-stench hits you immediately, and everywhere you look there are signs of the thing's passing. Cutie-marked doors are covered in deep gouge, as if something had greedily attempted to force them open, and even the walls surrounding the doors seem to have been put under strain or suffered blows.

You spread your wings, more out of alertness than anything else, and gallop towards one of the doors. A quick and worried inspection reveals that it has not been breached, but you dare not breathe a sigh of relief.

The thing, whatever it is, is growing bolder now, perhaps even hungrier. Its attempts to invade the dreams of ponies are becoming more aggressive, and you shudder at the thought that it might succeed. So far you have only found its tracks, not the beast itself, but you dare not imagine what sort of harm it might cause if ever it manages to invade a pony's mind.

You follow the trail left by it as you head deeper into the dream realms, the trail of harmed doors and forced hinges, of broken fountains and violated walls.

Until you see it. Not the quarry you have been tracking, but your eyes fall upon the one thing that you have been dreading to find all along. On the very end of a dream-corridor stands an opened door, half torn open by wrongly-shaped claws, pulled clear from its hinged by twisted limbs and terrible strength.

You fly towards it, your heart pounding at the thought that somepony might be in great danger due to your failure, knowing that right now something that you do not even know what is has managed to invade the very dreams of one of your subjects.

You rush towards the door and cross it through the hole left behind by the creature, without a single thought or care for your own safety.

But your exhausted mind is all too tired for you to notice that the door lacks a cutie mark on its front. The sharpness of your attention is too dull, from weeks of hunting, for you to remember that the thing you have been pursuing had been waiting for this moment all along. For you to remember that it had also been hunting you back all along.

It does not cross your mind, as it would have if you had been more alert, that the creature you are pursuing could very well be tireless. That, although mindless and impulse-driven, the creature had shown you all the signs that it is very intimate with the concept of malice.

The "trail" had been a trap, a path of destruction made by design rather than mindless instinct, in order to guide you here, to make you worry. It had been waiting for this moment, for you to make a mistake, for you to return to this long and arduous game of cat-and-mouse with a sense of urgency, with just a little more recklessness.

Not even half of your body is through the hole on the "door" when the splintered opening closes around you like the teeth of a predator.

You let out a soundless scream as it tears into you, fangs that are not fangs piercing your dream-flesh, limbs that are not limbs digging into your very soul.

After that, there is only darkness.



You remember now. You remember everything.

The quarrels that you had with your sister, as you shouldered your problems. The certainty that this was an issue that you alone had to resolve, that this was a creature that you alone had to face.

After all, how could you have thought otherwise? This was your duty, back then. This is still your duty, even now.

This is what you were born to do.

Your sister is meant to guide and rule, to nurture and provide, to gently illuminate and provide warmth. It is her burden to make order and prosperity. Yours, on the other hand, is the duty to keep watch, to ensure the safety of the lands. To ensure the safety of her.

And even if it wasn't… you still couldn't have subjected her to it. She may be your older sister, but you know that she is too soft for certain things. You recall her fears in your battle against Discord. You remember her panic, as much as she hid it well from your subjects, when Star Swirl disappeared together with his companions, after his fight against a creature of darkness.

She may be strong and confident, she may be extremely powerful, but she is also… your sister Tia. And as much as you are the younger sibling, you will not allow anything to hurt her, no matter the cost.

Yes, you remember everything. That was exactly what was going on through your mind, and…

No… you remember almost everything. There is one final secret that has yet to reveal itself, but you feel now that you are falling towards it, almost as if you no longer have a choice in this.



[Escaping the Dream, CD 146]

[Roll: 5 + 50 (Alicorn) – 30 (Scars of Nightmare) – 5 (Frustrated) + 30 (Troubled) = 50]

[Princess Luna is Frightened, she will receive a +40 bonus on her next attempt]

Down we go.




Deeper




You finally reach the end of that great corridor, the doors by your side growing heavier and bound with more chains as you went further and further. But a final door stands before you, at the end of that dark place, twice as tall as you are, large and oppressive.

You know that something is locked on the other side of that door, and though you have no idea of what it is you know that it is in there for good reason.

You think about hesitating, you think that something is very wrong and that perhaps you should not be here. You think that perhaps the Elements of Harmony did this, all of this, for a good reason, and that as much as your sister's love might have convinced her to bring you here, perhaps it is you who should agree with her now, and simply head back.

But the comforting hoof of your sister reaches your back, and you know what you must do. She will be here with you the whole time, lighting the way and keeping the darkness at bay.

Although her hoof feels like the bark of a dark tree, and her touch is cold like the wind of night. Although the shadow of her foreleg, cast by the Lantern-light of her horn, is longer than it should be, in a different shape of what it should be.

Your focus your magic on the tip of your horn, and direct it towards the great lock that binds the chains. Up until now the padlocks have all repeated themselves, on the doors that have thus far flanked you, they have all shared the same symbols. An apple, a butterfly, a balloon. Shapes that make no sense, but at the same time feel familiar.

But this final lock is unique, and you know that to be a sign of great importance. It is shaped like a six-pointed sparkle, surrounded by five smaller images of itself. It is shaped like magic, and like the grand project that Harmony has for the whole world. It is shaped like the future, delicate and precious, yet full of potential.

And you know that forcing that lock open will be a great transgression.

But you must know. You simply must.

You force your magic deeper into the lock, forcing its delicate mechanism from the inside out, demanding it to yield under your pressure.

And you hear a click.



"Lu… Luna…? Luna…"

You feel a pair of hoofs shaking you, the sensation distant and numb.

"Luna…! Wake up sister…!"

You open your eyes, seeing for a moment the image of your sister on top of you. But something is wrong.

"Sister…? What are you doing here?" you shake your head, the movement tiring and sluggish. You look around and realize where you are, "we are in the dream realms, sister of mine… How did you even get here?"



There is a heavy sensation in your head, as if something large is holding you by the mane, as if something wrong is stuck to the back of your head.



But Celestia doesn't answer you, she merely gives you a smile as if you had just made a joke or a cute remark, and simply nods for you to follow her.

"Come sister dear, there is something you must see."

Your mind is still in a haze, your vision swimming slightly as you get up, but you follow her.



You are sure that her mouth didn't move as she spoke, just now.



"Sister, please wait for us…" you try to say towards her back, your body growing weaker with every passing hoofstep, your voice becoming smaller as your breathing grows more labored, "we are not… feeling well, and…"

Your sister trots ahead of you, her steps light and confident, getting farther away from you. It reaches the point that you barely cross a corner, and you only see her tail making a turn around the next.



Was her tail not supposed to be pink? Or colored like an aurora borealis? Had her tail always looked like… that?



Until you finally catch up to her. She is sitting in the middle of a courtyard of the dream realms, looking up towards the endlessly dark sky. You nearly collapse by her side, but with a last ounce of your strength you manage to sit down next to her.

You are looking down, your mind hazy, your breaths short and choked.



You feel very sick.



"Look Luna, look!" your sister's energetic voice, a stark contrast to your own state, calls for you, "up there in the sky, can you see it?"

"See what… beloved sister…?" you practically heave the question back at her, but you look up anyways. As much as the movement seems almost impossibly tiring, as much as it causes your back to protest and ache, you still direct your eyes upward.

And you freeze.

"Do you see it now Luna?" she asks with glee, almost shaking with joy "have you finally realized it?"

You always thought the sky above and around the dream realms was just an endless sea of nothing. Like the night sky without any stars, or like an endless ocean without any life.

But how wrong you were, all this time.

You become paralyzed in fear, your already numb mind completely freezing when you finally see it.



The darkness, the endless forever that surrounds the dream realms. It is solid.

It is something.



"Oh Luna, you see it!" the thing by your side hugs you with joy, but you almost do not notice it. Your eyes fixed at the impossibly large scale of the darkness that hangs above your head.

It might be further away than the most distant of stars. It might be that it will never reach you, not in a million years, but it is still there.



It is still, and it has thoughts, eyes, and an endless hunger.

And it is looking back at you.



And another realization strikes you, like cold water dripping on your back, making its way into the feather of your wings.

The glow of the dream realms might be less than a pinprick for it, being too far away and weak for its light to ever truly reach it and be reflected back so you could see its true shape, although perhaps that is a mercy. But it is still the only light that you can see anywhere, perhaps the only light that exists in all of creation.

Perhaps it is the last light that exists in all of existence. And no matter how small and weak it might be, the fact that it is the only one… makes it a beacon.

"Yes Luna, that's right," it whispers inside your head, a loving mockery of your sister's voice, "your world's light… Its call is so irresistible…"

You realize without knowing how, you understand it in an instant. Every dream, every song, every thought of love and hope, it is all reflected here in the dream realms. Every colt and filly borne into a loving house, every new cutie-marked door that appears and starts emitting its own light, every new corridor and avenue and courtyard in the dream realms.

Everything makes the light stronger. Every single effort from you and your sister just serves to makes Equestria more visible.

As if you are raising a lamb just for it to be slaughtered.

As if you are planting a tree, just for it to be consumed by worms.

"And now that you have let us in, Luna… we will be together forever," the voice comes from all around you. Wrong now, deeper now, less like your sister now.

And only now do you begin to realize that something, some spawn from that infinite malice, is right by your side.

Only now do you begin to feel how her skin wriggles against your coat of fur, how her mouth seems to open until way past the end of her neck, how she seems to have so many eyes.

"Forever."

You feel that the wriggle of its body is growing more frantic, rubbing against you, forcing its way into your skin.

You would have moved away if you could, forced your way out of its embrace, ran or flied away as fast as your hoofs and wings could take you.

But you cannot. But your body simply does not feel like it is yours anymore.



A splitting headache flares inside your head.

The memories are so strong now, so overwhelming, that you almost forget that they are memories at all. You almost feel as if you are living all of it again.

Everything is going dark.

The very last thing you do remember, from back then, the very last thought you had in that moment, was of severing your connection with your sister, that bond that you share that runs deeper than fate and stronger than love. You would have felt pain in that if it hadn't been a split-second decision, but you had to do it. Like burning a bridge to fend off an invasion, although you were left in the wrong side, like blowing up a mine shaft after digging too deep and finding something terrible, although you were still far under the ground.

You knew in an instant what had just happened to you. You did not rightly comprehend it, but you knew all the same. And you absolutely could not let the same fate befall your sister. You could not let that thing crawl its way into Celestia, through you.

The very last thought you had, as you cut yourself off from the one thing you thought you would never lose, was that you had to protect her.



[Escaping the Dream, CD 146]

[Roll: 77 + 50 (Alicorn) – 30 (Scars of Nightmare) – 5 (Frustrated) + 40 (Frightened) = 132]

[Princess Luna is Terrified, she will receive a +50 bonus on her next attempt]

Down we go.




Deeper




The door bursts outwards as soon as the lock is opened, a tide of darkness spewing out from it like a great river. It catches you fully, and you feel yourself being dragged deeper into it.

You try to look behind you, to scream at your sister for help, but her light is nowhere to be seen, snuffed out in an instant. You do not even hear the flap of insect wings as she blends away into the darkness, still watching with her many eyes, dancing away from the thing that was behind the door, heading towards a safe distance.

You feel the darkness hot against your body, against your mind, like a fluid that is neither water nor fire. You feel it like a prayer of malice spoken a thousand times over a thousand years. You taste it like an endless and primal hunger. You see it as an endless loop of decay, something which is never truly dead, but that is always becoming deader.

You drown in it.

The other doors, every single one of them, burst open as well, their own locks failing and breaking. Every single memory, every single thought and recollection, all of them are freed from their bindings. All of it engulfs you, surrounds you. Enters you.

The most horrible part, however, is that all of this feels familiar.



"Lu… Luna…? Luna…"

You feel a pair of hoofs shaking you, the sensation distant and numb.

"Luna…! Wake up sister…!"

You wake up, gasping for air in panic with the sensation of drowning still fresh in your mind. You crawl away from your bed as fast as you can, the very covers around you feel like they are squirming and crawling over your skin.

"Luna?! What's wrong? What happened??"

The sensations stop all at once. You are in your room, it is night, and Celestia is looking at you while extremely worried.

You look around, shuddering, taking in the scenario around you.

This is real.

Celestia is right here.

You are awake.

"Luna, what happened?" she asks gently, walking towards you as if careful of how you might react, "what is the matter with you sister?"

You pass your hoofs over your body.

There is nothing heavy crawling at the back of your head.

You are not bleeding.

You are awake.

"Its ok Lu, don't worry," she finally realizes just how scared you are, and moves closer to you, "whatever happened, it's all better now". She hugs you, gently, passing a hoof on your back, "Shh… its allright, sister is here…"

Celestia is white, and larger than you.

Her fur is warm against yours, and you feel her heartbeat against you ear.

This is not a dream.

You are awake…

You hug her back.

"By all your stars, Luna, your body is cold and you're shivering. Whatever happened? Did you have a… nightmare or something?"

You calm your breath, eyes closed against the warmth of your sister's body. She keeps stroking your back, and eventually you manage to answer her with a slight nod from your head.

"Don't worry then, I'm here with you. We will always be together…" she whispers into your ear, and you feel yourself slowly calm down at that.

"At least, for the next thousand years, right?"

Until her hug becomes tighter, so tight that you can barely breathe.

"C… es… tia?" you open your eyes wide in shock, not even managing to properly utter an answer, your breath being squished out of your body.

But when you look up, you see that the thing hugging you is not Celestia, and you are not in your room.

It is something with too many limbs, and too many eyes, and too many teeth.

And before you can scream, they all dig into you, and your body flares in pain.

But they dig deeper than just your flesh. You can feel that they don't just rend at your body and slice through your bones, they are also entering you. Becoming you.

And you in turn are becoming it.

You feel as it drinks from your panic, and bathes in your fear. You feel as it exults in your essence, for your essence is far greater than that of regular ponies whose dream-doors it greedily lusted for.

After all, you were never a pony to begin with.



You are much greater. You are a creature of order, your flesh born into this world by choice, obeying its laws of entrance by birth, and of departure by death. Your soul smells of the outside, of the void between the lights, of the very thing it eternally aches to consume with never-ending thirst. It drinks deep from your mind's memories, then your body's sensations, then the very cornerstone of your soul. It sees the purpose for which you entered the world, and the light that invited you inside, and the mission that you accepted, and the covenant that you have made with it. It licks greedily the marrow of your very being as it sees in there the echo of that thing, that music that grows with every light-born thought of mortals, that nascent beacon in the never-ending darkness.

It sees the light of Harmony, the shining core of this world, reflected in your essence, it sees the marks of the pact you made with it.

And oh, how it causes the creature to want.



The visions grow deeper with every passing moment, and far, far more horrible. You see the black emptiness from which the thing was borne, and the aftertaste of the dying light which fueled its birth. You feel its lust, its un-physical need to burrow into the heart of the world and reach for Harmony and its light and its music.

Its need to consume it, to make it deader and deader, but never truly dead. To make it like itself.

You see-



[Escaping the Dream, CD 146]

[Roll: 57 + 50 (Alicorn) – 30 (Scars of Nightmare) – 5 (Frustrated) + 50 (Terrified) = 122]

[Princess Luna is Horrified, she will receive a +60 bonus on her next attempt]

Down we go.




Deeper




"Lu… Luna…? Luna…"

You feel a pair of hoofs shaking you, the sensation distant and numb.

"Luna…! Wake up sister…!"

You wake up already struggling, throwing your hoofs up in an attempt to shove them away from you, crawling through the floor to gain distance from the thing you know is not your sister.

"Luna silly, why are you running?" the thing says with glee, its voice splitting with two new tones with every word it utters, until you are hearing a chorus of deep, guttural tones, "did anything happen, dear? Did you have a bad dream?"

You look around horrified, your heart beating in your chest and your throat dry. Everything looks the same, every last part of your room. Even Celestia looks utterly normal.

Except for the smile on her face, and her voice. That horrible voice that shakes you down to your core.

"Calm down Lu," the thing calmly walks towards you, "why don't w-?"

"YOU. ARE. NOT. OUR. SISTER!"

You focus your magic on your horn, and a moment later a great beam of pale moonlight explodes out of it, ramming the thing through the wall, and blowing up a large hole on the side of the castle. You stop the magic only several seconds later, heaving, shaking. Your hindlegs collapse behind you, and you sit down involuntarily, shaking hoofs going to your face as you try, and fail to…

"Lu…" you hear that voice, Celestia's voice, in the distance.

Oh stars, no…

"Luna…?"

It sounds like its coming from all around you. The sky outside the castle is pitch black now.

"Luna…", the voice seems closer now.

Everything seems to be pitch black now.

"Luna…!"

You can't even see your own hoofs anymore. You can only feel the tears coming down through your face, and hear your ragged breath.

"Wake up sister…!"

The voice is almost upon you now. You hug yourself, closing your eyes although it makes no difference.

"Wake up," you hear a whisper on your ear, and feel somepony hug you from behind.

You expected it to be violent, you expected the claws of some great thing to grab you and squeeze the life out of your body, but it didn't come like that. Perhaps it was even worse, for you perfectly recognized that feeling.

The worst part of it is that you know that its Celestia's hug. You recognize that size, and that warmth, and the way that she crosses her hoofs over your chest as her mane slightly covers your face.

Except that it isn't.

"Why did you do that sister… Why do you hurt us…? Don't you recognize us? It's me, Tia, your dear sister…!"

And the words that it whispers are the same words you know that your dear sister shouted at you, over a thousand years ago, after you first struck against her.

The thing, you know, is already deep inside you. Whatever it had of animalistic before, it now has of malicious intellect. It has learned from all of your memories, and it is now as intelligent as you are.

And you know, deep inside of you, that it wants to have its sadistic fun with you.

You can't even hear your own sobbing anymore. There is only that thing's breathing, now.

And you know it is smiling.

The ground gives beneath you, or perhaps it never existed in the first place. The only thing you know is that the grip it has on you is a lot tighter now.

And that you are falling.

And the thing grabs you by the hindlegs and drags your down, deeper and deeper into the abyss that is itself. You try to scream but you feel you are choking, that thing around you is not air, it burns your lungs with the searing sensation of tar whenever your breathe it in. Although you know that you will never really suffocate or drown.

And you feel the thing's teeth bury into you, its bones made out of black nephrite or some other black crystal, sucking out all of your light with its very existence. It feeds on your body greedily, always finding a new place to pierce, always aware of a new way to elicit suffering and to take from you. Although you know that you will never truly bleed out.

And you feel the thing empty you of all heat, to the point where you cannot even remember what it feels like to move anymore. You don't even know if you have a soul, or if you ever had one. You are not even sure if you are thinking right now. Although you know that you will never freeze.

And it does all of that to you, and more, over and over and over again. And you remember that this is what was like during every single conscious moment while on the moon. Your energy always being drained, but never truly over, your soul always dying, but never truly dead.

For there is no final death while within this thing.

And you regret so very much that you remember it now.



[Escaping the Dream, CD 146]

[Roll: 11 + 50 (Alicorn) – 30 (Scars of Nightmare) – 5 (Frustrated) + 60 (Horrified) = 86]

[Princess Luna is Traumatized, she will receive a +70 bonus on her next attempt]

[Princess Luna has lost one sanity point. Nine remain.]

Down we go.




Deeper




"Lu… Luna…? Luna…"

You feel a pair of hoofs shaking you, the sensation distant and numb.

"Luna…! Wake up sister…!"

You hear laughter. A horrible, disgusting laughter in your sister's voice.

There is not even any pretense anymore. The thing is enjoying every moment of this.

And you are powerless to resist.

"Get up sister dear, get up!"

Your hoofs move underneath you, your body jerking into motion without your conscious command. You feel a horrible itch, a maddening discomfort as if every single muscle within your body had been replaced with… things.

Wriggling things. Disgusting things.

Decaying things. Dying things.

But not dead things.

You can only watch from your own eyes as you clumsily get out of your bed, every movement alien and wrong. You can only cry as the things force you to breathe in miss-matched heaves.

You can't even whimper in fear as your body drags you towards the disturbing image of Celestia. Her expression leaking with malice, her smile too long and too cruel.

She takes your face in her hoofs looking you deep in the eyes, and you don't even have the control to look away. The wriggles, too, are behind your eyes, and they are keeping your stare fixed an unyielding.

You wish you could cry more, at least then maybe your vision would blur.

"Lu, beloved sister," she whispers, keeping your chin up with a loving hoof, "do you want to see what it will be like when more of us get here?" she asks, fangs showing up in the smile of a pony that is about to deliver the punchline of a joke.

You beg her, you scream at her, you implore for her to stop. You implore yourself to stop, wishing your mind would just shut down, wishing that you would die right here. Anything for this to end.

But your body does nothing like that. Instead, you see your vision jerk up and down in a wobbling "yes".

And she takes you by the hoof, leading you towards the balcony as an older sister might guide her younger sibling.

You look down from the balcony and realize that you are in the dream realms. But what you see is all the more horrible for it.

"You know, we already are in the dreamlands. We always have been," she says, her voice a perfect resemblance of your sister, only wrong, "but those that come first are too small and frail. Your very sight destroys them, before you even notice they are there. Your very presence dissolves them, like a bonfire might evaporate drops of a light rain."

You see it, all of it. The dream realms, its light so dim that the strain to see through the darkness is almost painful. Every single door, every single dream, covered in those horrible things. Great and small, long and thin, tearing down at doors and extinguishing the light within shortly after, ten more emerging from where one entered.

"But those are the little ones, the weak ones. As numerous as dust in the air, present in every corner of creation, heading towards any source of light no matter how small."

You see one, dropping down from the endless darkness. The thing is like a perfect black mixture of crystal and flesh. It is invisible, you see, against the backdrop of darkness because it reflects no light. You only notice it when it is between you and a dimming door, far in the distance.

"And this is all your fault, you know? This is all on you. Every moment spent cultivating dreams and hope, all of it. It just makes everything more brilliant. It just makes the light grow stronger."

It splashes against the ground of the dream realm like a rotten fruit falling down from a tree. If those things are impossible to notice due to the sheer darkness, then how many of them are right outside of the dream realms? How long have they always been there, floating in the darkness, and you never noticed?

"And as the light grows stronger? Well, it just calls for larger and larger of us of course. Until those like myself arrive, those that can resist your sight without being destroyed, those that can touch you without burning away."

Your vision is blurred with your tears now, although that almost no mercy. You can still see the lights dim, you can still hear her voice.

"Oh, I know. Why don't you join the fun?" she asks.

And before you can understand what she means, her hoof is on your back.

And you are falling down from the balcony, screaming a bloodcurdling scream inside your mind, tumbling towards the open jaws of the things underneath you.



[Escaping the Dream, CD 146]

[Roll: 40 + 50 (Alicorn) – 30 (Scars of Nightmare) – 5 (Frustrated) + 70 (Traumatized) = 125]

[Princess Luna is Traumatized, she will receive a +80 bonus on her next attempt]

[Princess Luna has lost one sanity point. Eight remain.]

Down we go.




Deeper




"Lu… Luna…? Luna…"

You feel a pair of hoofs shaking you, the sensation distant and numb.

"Luna…! Wake up sister…!"

You don't even move anymore. You know that as soon as you try to, you will realize you can't. You know that as soon as you breathe, you will realize that it is not air around you. You only look towards the nothingness in front of you. The only movement in your body being that of tears welling up in your eyes.

Waiting.

"C'mon Luna, wake up! Today is a very special day!"

Celestia's voice comes closer. Your whole body is so stiff with fear that you don't even shake anymore.

"Do you know what day it is?" she is right next to you now, "that's right! Right now you have just began your second day on the moon!"

With a smile on her face, your sister pulls the covers from over your body, and for a moment you almost think you see your room around you.

"Just one thousand years to go now!"

And then it all starts over again.



[Escaping the Dream, CD 146]

[Roll: 97 + 50 (Alicorn) – 30 (Scars of Nightmare) – 5 (Frustrated) + 80 (Traumatized) = 192]

[Success]

Out we go




Finally




"Lu… Luna…? Luna…"

You feel a pair of hoofs shaking you, the sensation distant and numb.

"Luna…! Wake up sister…!"

You wake up-










THE HISTORY OF THIS WORLD HAS BEEN CHANGED, STRANGLED OUT OF ITS PATH BY WILL AND HOOF.






This world's future is now totally divergent from canon.


But Histories do not change without consequence, it always causes everything to tumble around it like a house of cards, into a new configuration.

The ripples of moments like these always reach far into the future, as well as into the past. A History is not a straight line, and time does not move in a single direction. Nothing will ever be the same.

The aftermath will follow shortly. As will your choices.
> Aftermath - Part 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You are Princess Celestia, and right now you are having a very interesting conversation.

"And thanks to your patronage, Princess Celestia, the new wing at the hospital will be more than sufficient to accommodate all of our patients," the old pony says, his hoofs clearly working hard to keep up with you although you are already walking slowly. "Me and my staff can't thank you enough, Princess. Truly."

It is still morning, but you have been up for a while now. A corner of your mind is still worried that Luna did not manage to lower the moon properly, but you are more than grateful that you heard her march back into her room and, hopefully, to bed.

There had been days when she simply stayed in the balcony, looking at the horizon, and she would not budge until you carried her away from the spot. There had been days when she simply flew away and…

Well, you hope that those days are all well behind you now.

Your sister is getting better. You know it.

"It is my pleasure Inky Hoofs," you retort to the pony, "after all, although Equestria might be a peaceful place, we absolutely cannot neglect the kind of treatment that you and your students provide."

"It fills me with happiness to hear somepony of your station say this," he says, and you can feel the honesty in his voice, "it makes an old horse like me feel like I just got my cutie mark all over again."

You give him a smile, and the two of you stop as you finally reach the doors that lead to the dining hall.

"Would you care to join me for breakfast, Inky Hoofs?" you ask tentatively, "I'd like to say once again that I am sorry that we could only meet so early in the morning, but we could continue our conversation if you joined me for a meal."

"Hah! I wont fall for this trap again, Princess!" he replies, starting to chuckle as he speaks, "last time I accepted your invitation, I ended up in the middle of a dispute between the Bluebloods and the Greenhoofs. And I mean literally in the middle, they were practically throwing food at each other during their argument".

"Yes I remember," you laugh with him.

"And don't mind about the time, you're a Princess for goodness sake! I should be the one apologizing for taking up your precious minutes."

And with that Inky Hoofs part ways with you, but not before thanking you a few more times. You watch him go as he leaves, politely escorted by a guard since you honestly worry that he might fall down at any moment, and you can't help but to look at his cutie mark when he turns at a corner, like you always do.

A pen next to a scroll, and a long red couch. You think that kind of couch is named a shezlong…? Well, whatever it is, it is terribly fitting, as cutie marks usually are.

You turn back towards the great door that leads to the dining hall. This door is always left unguarded, at least during this time of the day, and you make sure that it is kept like that for a very good reason.

Your dining hall is a war zone, there is no other way to describe it. And these doors, at this time of the morning, are the final threshold between you and another arduous day.

It has been centuries now that almost every single moment of your day is planned and counted, sometimes down to the very second, and it has been centuries now that you have given up even your meals so you could attend more meetings or take care of more issues.

You know that as soon as you open that door your entrance will be declared, and dozens of very well-dressed ponies will get up from their chairs as they wait for you to be seated.

Kibitz is right there, on the other side of the door. He always is. You swear you can hear his watch ticking, and you just know that he is looking at it, counting down how many minutes less you will have to walk from the courtyard to the throne room if you "keep taking so long to attend a single breakfast" like he always says.

But you have not opened that door yet. This is your tiny rebellion against the day ahead of you, the small moment of peace of mind that you allow yourself every morning.

You take a deep breath, and stare up at the tall door, taller even than you are. You are never quite sure of how your expression is like during these few seconds. Are you calm and collected? Are you perhaps dreading the day that is about to start? Do you perhaps look tired?

You are never quite sure, and you do not want to think about what sorts of rumors and unease would spread the castle if you were to be seen during this moment.

So this is why you order that there be no guards on this particular spot, at this particular time of the day.

Your horn starts to glow, but you do not reach for the door just yet. Instead, you bring out the scroll that Inky Hoofs gave you earlier this morning. The latest part of his work that he came to deliver personally, together with his thanks for your investment on his work.

You unseal it and check the title, nodding with satisfaction at what you see.


...

"A Treatise On Survivor's Guilt, As Observed From The Aftermath Of The Fire On Cloudy Grove Village."

"By I. Hoofs."

...


You have picked up a few things along the centuries. Far less than you thought you would, in all honesty, since ruling consumes almost every hour of your every day. But psychology was one of them, one of those skills that you knew would be useful since most of your time is spent dealing with ponies. Having your age also helps, of course, since you have already seen every kind of pony across generations.

But, you think as you eye the scroll one last time, right now you have every reason to want to brush up on this particular field.

You fold the scroll back and storage it in your wing, a trick you know that pegasus can't really pull off due to sheer size, and then you reach for the door with your magic, the door glowing in return with the golden light that irradiates from your horn.

"May the illustrious guests please rise," you hear Kibitz's prim and proper voice echo down the dining hall, "Princess Celestia will now grace us with her presence."

You will make sure to read it tonight, you think, preferably after watching your dear sister raise the moon without a hitch.

But for now, a new day begins for you.





You have been trying to ignore it for some time now, just going with the flow of the conversation around you.

"… but then I said, raincloud taxing is now measured by the amount of raindrops per second!" the elegantly dressed pegasus laughs at his own story, soon being joined by those around him.

Some of them look your way and you offer them a polite smile, a perfectly faked chuckle, as if you were paying attention the whole time, and this causes their laugh to become more relaxed, more honest, the pegasus who had just told the story smiling at the small measure of approval he gained just now.

But in truth you have no idea of what they were talking about. In fact, you have no idea of what is happening at all around the table. You are usually capable of accompanying every conversation without conscious effort, of guiding the tone of the ponies around you, fishing for political intrigue at the same time that you make sure to dissolve tensions before they are even borne.

You have centuries of statesmanship to draw experience from, but for some reason you just cannot focus at all.

There is this sensation that you are having… some sort of high pitched ringing in your head that you have no idea of what could be the cause. Maybe one of your ears is going bad? You haven't seen a doctor in decades, after all. Or maybe some sort of magic is going haywire in some distant place? You recall something like that happening a few centuries back, a very similar feeling heralding a small disaster by a rogue unicorn mage.

Maybe it's another Sonic Rainboom? There was one a few years ago and this… no, nevermind, you are sure that the sensation was not like this.

No, this is literally a ringing, slightly growing in volume and intensity with every minute.

It has actually reached the point where it is a bit painful now. Your expression fails for a few moments as a sudden wince inside your head gets you by surprise, the movement catching the attention of quite a few nobles.

Although that escapes your attention. You are too focused now, concentrating on that almost physical sound that went from subtle to maddening in but a few minutes.

You realize, as you focus on it, that it is not an actual noise. It is a feeling, of sorts, but one that runs deeper than normal… something that you know that should be very familiar, but that you haven't felt in such a long time that…

You get up from your seat, eyes open wide and hoofs banging at the table, the sound of your chair scraping through the floor instantly causing everypony present to go silent. The nobles all look at you, suddenly worried, but you do not care.

Something is very wrong.

You look around, not really focusing on anything, your whole attention on that feeling inside of your head as you start walking towards the door that leads to the exit. You think you hear the nobles whispering, confused as to what is happening, you think you hear Kibitz following behind you, asking you something.

But you do not care. You start trotting, then running, then galloping, your old and aged majordomo being left behind before long.

You don't know where you are running to, you just let your hoofs guide you as you fly past servants and visitors and confused guards, but soon enough you realize where you are heading. And then you take over the semi-conscious efforts of your hoofs, a chill running through your spine as you open your wings and jump out of the nearest window. You were scaling the stairs that lead to yours and Luna's personal accommodations, so there can only be one thing that is causing this foreboding thing inside your head.

Your heart starts beating faster in your chest as you touchdown on your sister's balcony, a crack on the marble fence that you notice causing you to swallow something dry. But you don't even break your stride, trotting towards the glass door that leads to her room as soon as your hoofs touch the ground, levitating the heavy curtains away from your path as you enter her dark-blue painted room.

"Lu…" you whisper hesitantly as you enter, looking around with the glow of your horn.

"Luna?" she is right there, you can see her. A pony-shaped lump under the sheets, crowned by the silhouette of her horn.

She is right there, you can see her. But for some reason you don't breathe a sigh of relief.

For some reason, you just feel more tense now, the ringing inside your head growing louder.

"Luna…" you walk towards her, unsure if you should wake her up or just check on her.

But you do not approach three hoofsteps from her bed before it hits you, like a kick to the chest or a blast of magic right to the face. You almost reel at the suddenness of it, the ringing in your head nearly exploding during half a second, as if somepony had just pulled a sharp hook that was stuck behind your very eyes.

"Luna!" but you recover in an instant, adrenaline taking over as everything dawns on you at once.

How could you not have noticed it before? How could you have let so much time pass you by in some useless breakfast, without even realizing it?!

The ringing in your head, it was the sound of screaming.

The next moment, your hoofs are already on your sister. You fling her covers away, shaking her as you try to wake her up, but another wave of dread washes over you as you finally take a good look at her.

Her expression is horribly twisted, frozen in a soundless scream, her forelegs over her head as if she is trying to shield herself from something. Her body is frozen stiff like a stone, muscles locked in place, her entire posture tense beyond reason.

"Wake up sister!" you shout at her, fear taking over you as you realize that you might as well be trying to rouse a statue from sleep.

Is she even breathing?!

When she finally opens her eyes, the beautiful cyan of her gaze marred, surrounded by a deep red as if she had been crying for her whole life, twisted in fear as if she had just been through something terrible.

And those eyes look at you, directly at you, and you see that they recognize something that summons from within her a sensation that you cannot describe. As if she is looking at anything else, but not at her beloved older sister.

You move to hug her out of instinct, your mouth already opening so that you could say something that might soothe her, even if just a little.

But that movement of yours, that slightest approach, triggers something that is far, far the opposite of what you expected.



"NO!!!"



The world explodes around you, a bloodcurdling scream from your sister reaches you moments before your own back hits hard against the wall, breaking through it and burying you in a pile of rubble.

You are out from underneath the wreckage in an instant, floating the broken marble bricks away from you with a flick of your magic. But your eyes go wide as you take in the scene around you. Luna's magic has thrown you farther away than you thought. The edifice where your personal quarters were is now a smoldering crater, the violence of the explosion having torn the entire building, and its surroundings, clear from the ground.

You quickly look around you, tension rising within you as your experienced eyes analyze the full extension of the damage.



Half the castle is gone.



"Luna!"

But the one and only thought that comes to you is that you absolutely must reach your sister. You see her, or rather you see the brilliant trail that she left behind, quickly gaining distance from the castle. If anything, maybe that terrible explosion was just an impulse she took to get away from there.

To get away from you, some dreadful intuition tells you.

But despite the scenery of destruction around you, the whole of your attention focuses on that comet trail that is quickly heading towards the horizon, its complexion growing closer and closer to that of a shooting star as she goes further and further away.

"Luna, come back!" you shout in her direction, you know that she can't hear you, but you shout anyway.

At the same time that you open your wings, focusing your magic on them even as you keep your eyes sharp on that shining star moving towards the horizon.

Even as you hear the panicked screams of your subjects all around you, hundreds of victims from that sudden and unexplainable violence.

You focus more magic on your wings, and they start to glow in gold.

More, and the air around them starts to tremble with heat.

More, until they finally burst with fire, and you aim your whole body on the unerring mark that you had been following with your eyes.

You kick back with your hindlegs, and you don't jump out of the ground so much as you explode away from it.

You leave the castle behind you, although you know that you would have seen a scene of destruction had you but looked back. But it is not that you do not care for your subjects.

The point is that you simply must reach your beloved sister.

You have to help Luna.



Over the skies of Equestria, a blazing comet gives chase to a brilliant falling star.

[Your pursuit: 79 +50 (Alicorn) = 129]

[Her flight: 100 +50 (Alicorn) -30 (Scars of Nightmare) -5 (Frustrated) +80 (Traumatized) = 195]

[Oh dear…]



You chase after her through the morning sky, furiously pursuing her on wings of fire. Your are frantic with worry, wondering what the hell might have happened to her. Your mind keeps repeating the same image again and again and again in a cruel loop, as you vividly recall the expression of absolute horror that she had in her eyes before blowing you away.

But that just makes you beat your wings harder, straining yourself into a level of effort that even your superior body might not be able to keep up with.

You finally approach your sister, your wings screaming as you propel every last ounce of your energy through it, the horn on your head aching in sympathy to your pressurized magic, the skies behind you burning with a trail that will not fade away any time soon.

You notice that her trajectory is starting to descend now, and you finally get close enough to get a better look at her.

She is curled into a ball, hugging herself. Screaming.

She is not even flying, her wings closed shut around her. She propelled herself all the way here with that single explosion of terror-fueled magic.

You race towards her, getting closer and closer, reaching forward with your hoofs, inches away from actually catching her.

But gravity finally has its grips on her now, and although you are mere inches away from her, the trajectory of both of you is now fatally aimed at the ground.

You give one last mighty flap with your wings, combusting the energy on your feathers in an explosion that actually harms you. But that gives you just enough of a push for your hoofs to finally reach her.

You hug your dear sister, bringing her close to your body and putting yourself between her and the fast-approaching ground, bracing for impact and determined to protect her from the neck-breaking fall that is mere meters away.

But your eyes go wide, half a second before your back hits the grassland, as you hear another desperate scream from your sister as she realizes she is in your embrace, and you feel the split-second burst of teleporting magic coming from her horn.

Your body hits the hard ground right after, head first, and the last thing you see is the image of your own empty hoofs, your sister nowhere to be seen.

Everything goes dark.





You are not sure for how long you have been awake, and you don't really care. Your horn is glowing, as it has been all this time, and your mind is absent-mindedly repeating the magical spell that you have been doing this whole time.

But your eyes, they are focused on your hoofs. You are sitting on your hind, and you are staring at your hoofs in shock.

You can still feel your sister, right there. You can still feel her in your embrace.

She should have been safe in there. She should have felt safe in there.

But she didn't.

You keep repeating the same spell, again and again and again, each time hoping that it will achieve a different result.

"Princess Celestia! Thank goodness I found you!"

A familiar voice comes from on high, you have the vague impression that it's somepony you know, and that you have known for a long time. You hear her land by your side.

It's probably Cadence, you think.

You don't really look her way to make sure.

"Celestia, what… what happened?! You are bleeding!" you feel her come closer to you, hesitantly passing her hoof over the side of your head, on the part that had felt warm when you woke up, and then sticky and cold as time went by.

So that was blood. The aching you were feeling from there makes a bit more sense now.

"Celestia, we need you help! We are still digging survivors from under the debris, Shining is back there with whoever wasn't wounded, but we need you! And where is Luna?! We couldn't find her anywhere in the castle!"

Shining…? Oh, Shining Armor, the stallion she has been going out with. You remember vaguely that he is captain on your Royal Guard, probably, and something tells you that he knows somepony else who is close to you…

Oh, but more importantly. Cadence is here! She is a powerful magic caster, she might be able to help you!

"Cadence," you interrupt her, your eyes finally leaving your hoofs and looking at her.

She seems worried. You wonder why.

"Celestia…? Wha-"

"Cadence, could you help me please?" you ask her, looking up at your own horn and hoping she will realize what you are talking about, "Luna was here, just now, but she teleported away. I've been trying to track her, but I just can't detect her trail…"

You look back at your hoofs, seeing that they are moving for some reason.

Oh, you have been rocking yourself back and forward for some time now. Strange that you didn't notice before.

"Celestia…? What do you mean… Princess Luna was here?" she asks cautiously, as if some though is starting to occur to her. As if she is piecing something together.

"Yes, I chased after her from the castle. She was just here, I know I'll catch her teleportation trail if I just try a bit harder…"

Or maybe your hoofs are trembling? Probably both.

"Celestia…" you feel Cadence get closer to you, you can see her pink silhouette right in front of you, "you know that teleportation trails don't last… long, do you?"

"Yes, I know. But she was just here! Now help me with this spell, I know that we will track her if we just-"

"Celestia," she interrupts you, and for some reason you think there is some sort of dawning realization in her voice, her tone suddenly extremely sad. "Do you know for how long you have been here?"

"I-…" the words get stuck in your throat, your entire body is shaking now, "I don't know Cadence, the sun hasn't moved in a long time now, so I lost track of time and…"

You take a deep, sharp breath, some burning sensation coming to your eyes as you look towards the sun. Cadence's question doesn't make sense, but for some reason it still hurts to hear her ask it. The sun is right there, frozen right on top of the horizon, painting the sky in a deep orange. It hasn't moved in a long time now, like it's waiting there for something, so how the hell are you supposed to know how long you have been here?!

You don't want to know, and you don't care. All you can think about is Luna. Your heart aches when you remember her expression, right when she woke up. You feel sick when you think of what must have happened to cause all of this.

But she will be fine. You know she will be fine. You promised her she will be fine. You promised yourself she will be fine.

You need her to be fine, or that hole in your heart will never close, it will stay open and aching like it has for the last thousand years.

"My little sister is fine, right?" you suddenly ask, turning towards Cadence while your voice fails, tears falling from your eyes for some reason, "my Luna will be fine, right Cadence? She will be-?"

You feel cadence hug you, whispering in your ear something about how sorry she feels. But you don't listen to what she says.

After all, when she hugs you, you finally forget the sensation you had on your hoofs, the sensation that you had desperately been trying to remember this whole time. You forget how it felt to have your sister in your arms, you forget the last thing you felt before your head hit the ground, and everything turned black.

You finally realize that your sister is not here anymore.

And you hug Cadence back, not being able to hold in the tears anymore.





Curious are the ways of the dice. This was supposed to be an emotional chase, with havoc being cause around Equestria as two demigoddesses raced each other. Luna would start with her "+80 traumatized" and go down "-10" every time she out-raced Celestia. But that would cause havoc in some place as she crash-landed and teleported away in panic at Celestia's approach, fleeing her sister for dear life. Until Celestia's base attribute finally caught up with her.

But then she rolled a natural 100.

Huh…

[Princess Luna is now missing, she is nowhere to be seen in Canterlot after the "unexplained explosion" destroyed half the castle. Every last mare and stallion in service of the crown has been called for to search for her.]

[And it would be best if she is found soon. After all, Despair is the Wolf that devours thought.]

Eight sanity points remain. The Sixteenth blesses.
> Aftermath - Part 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The ritual ends like a fading light, the Knock-bridge between your minds and Princess Luna's dream winking out like a closing eye, the chaos of Moth in the air blowing away in the Wood-breeze like a light mist.

You are back in your body. You no longer have wings and an older sister, you no longer stand before a great and forbidden door, you no longer are something large and winged that flew away and hid in the shadows, as those doors burst open, observing from a distance from that moment onwards, but observing all the same.

You are yourself once again. You are Velvet Covers now.

But will Velvet Covers ever be the same, after this?

The feeling of your coat against the black dirt comes back to you, slowly, and you realize that you are sitting. You take a deep breath, feeling the cold air fill your lungs, and a slight movement of your forelegs reminds you that your hoofs are on the very edge of the ritual circle.

But of course, you remember where you are now. You and your compatriots are all here, gathered around it, in the complete darkness of the gathering place of your cult.

You start hearing things, several things at once, and it seems that everypony else is starting to recover from the experience you all just shared. The sounds that you hear are all… understandable.

Somepony, far behind you, is breathing is gasps, as if about to panic.

A stallion that you do not know seems to be weeping.

You definitely hear the sound of somepony emptying the contents of their stomach.

Whispers, directed at nopony in particular, reach you from near and far. You hear all of that, and many other telltale signs of willpower barely being kept, of self-control barely being held. Of regret and realization, of curtains and windows being open wide only to reveal a light that cuts. Sounds of pain, but not pain of the body, and perhaps not even pain of the mind, but pain at the realization that the world itself does not quite fit how it should.

Although something strikes you as strange. The entire cult is gathered here, so why do you hear… so little? You expect a sea of murmurs to erupt at any moment, you expect at least one follower to break and gallop away, but the sounds of gasps and moans are few, and they are not growing in number or volume as time passes. But why?

Why, you might add, do you think you hear peaceful breathing?



"Come closer…"



You hear a voice, that voice, coming from the topmost edge of the circle, in the part of it where you know that the Mansus-lines converge with the tip of the Glory-circles. Your horn feels slightly off as you think about that, a memory whose origin you can't pinpoint making you think that the place around your forehead is somehow stained with black dirt.

You hear hoofsteps approaching the edge of the circle, stopping right behind you and your compatriots. They are the ponies that you have heard, of the cult's outer circle, and they appear to be shaking. You think they number in less than ten.

But what of all the others…?

"You… all of you, who are awake. You are the ones who made it to the end," your Master says, but there is something terribly wrong about its voice, something you had never heard in it before. "The others… would not have been strong enough. The revelation would have burned them, and Lantern or Winter would have claimed their minds from thereafter… I sent them to the Woods…"

You realize what is wrong about its voice. And although it should be normal, as your Master is surely great in Moth, it somehow feels strange. Maybe because it seems to be too real. Too honest.

You realize that you Master sounds... confused? Not shocked, not afraid, not surprised, but something maddening close to those three. Something that perhaps might see better justice if it is described as "in deep thought".



But a kind of deep thought that you would attribute to yourself, or to anypony else who lives and breathes and worries. Not to… whatever… your Master is.



"We called those things 'Worms'…" the voice finally continues. "And long ago, truly long ago, when the world still had its correct shape and form, even then they already tried to crawl into it… They come from Nowhere, and even back then they tried to burrow through the black dirt of the Woods, or tried to crawl out through secret passages in secret places, dark corridors where the wrong kind of light exists."

You swear that you her the sound of something, coming from the middle of the circle, as if somepony just sat down with the full weight of their body, like one might do when falling back in a dejected manner. You swear that the voice seems to come from an angle as if its owner is looking up, like one might do when remembering something long past.

You swear that, whatever is in the middle of the circle, it almost sounds like a regular pony.

"But there were protections back there. Wards and traps, barriers and thresholds, even the very powers that be would defend Equestria against the worms. And back then the worms would merely inhabit and consume. Those who were foolish enough to leave the wards behind, those who tried to brave Nowhere, would merely be taken, and become ever more dead, forever…"

You swear that you hear something grim about that voice.

"The worms could not take over, in that far past, they could not… become with the memories of those they claimed. But it seems that they can, now. That they have learned how to do it, somehow."

The confusion is almost palpable now, and it is maddening in its silence. You feel like there should be the sound of leaves rustling, or the buzzing of wings against the night, but instead you hear nothing, you feel nothing. You don't even feel lost and, considering that you know you are in a place close to the Woods, that in itself is almost frightening.

But then, the confusion slowly begins to wane, disappearing from the air like stale air would slowly leave a recently opened room. Becoming less corporeal, less memorable, until you wonder if it had been there at all to begin with.

"But there is something else to be learned in all of this, which the most attentive of you may have noticed," the Master seems to be regaining her balance now, its voice becoming sharper and harder, its tone returning to a guiding and teaching one, to the tone better suited to a leader of the faithful, "the alicorn Luna knew too little. She was witness and victim, and her crime was ignorance, both in the past and today. The fate that befell her long ago will be the same that shall befall Equestria if the alicorns keep to their work, but we know now that even the alicorns are young. They were invited into this world, they were borne here, and as it is proper for the law of birth they came without knowledge of wisdom. They are no better than foals when it comes to certain realizations."

The voice is back at its feet. It was never sitting in the first place, the confusing echo you heard from the middle of the circle was surely a lie. You Master is walking now, between the sleeping ponies and through the small crowd of those who remained awake.

"She will always be a detestable outsider, her arrival heralding that of other unwelcome guests, each greater and more abominable than the last, but… she was also made a pawn. She is a pawn of Harmony. She has made covenant with the very cause of Equestria's danger. However…" There is mischief in the voice, now, "pawns may change hoofs, and she has seen what the ultimate result of her actions will be, if she keeps to them. And as well as changing hoofs, pawns may even become other, greater pieces, if they advance sufficiently…"

You think you see eyes go over you, over all of you, and you think you would see a curious glint about them, if they were the kind of eyes that permitted the presence of light.

"The alicorns arrived after the God of Chaos had wrought its destruction, after the world already was as it currently is, and as such are merely employed as guardians of the status-quo, as nurturers of this current and sickening order of things. We must seek older sources, reach for greater knowledge, and above all else we must understand what the fires of Harmony are in the first place, as an initiate might toil to understand the Glory as he ascends ever higher. Perhaps it knows not what it is attracting, or perhaps it does, and to be consumed is its very intention, but before we may know how to best protect Equestria, we must first understand what causes its danger."

There is purpose in the voice now, a course of action forming in its words, like the forgotten footprints of a predator might form a trail under the light of the moon.

"We are practitioners of Moth, first and foremost. We are adepts of secrets and chaos, and of change above all else. Changing Equestria might seem like a daunting task, but it has already been changed once, before, or else we would not face the current threat that stands before us. And much less daunting, surely, will be to change a single mind… especially one whose body has been borne by the laws of this world, and one whose mind has drunk from the same fears that we have. The alicorns have a link to the fires, and though there might be other links and paths she is currently the closest and most readily available."

The voice seems conclusive now, and you think you hear an old and dry oak falling on the ground, the sound coming from far away.

It almost sounds like a hoof, stomping the ground for emphasis.

"We must have the alicorn. We must steal her, like a predator might steal a hatchling in the middle of the night. Windy Flakes," the voice turns towards the unicorn, who seems to be unusually still, "this place is no longer suitable for us. It is heavy with our hoofsteps, and marked with our traces. End it and consecrate our new lodge. The weaker among our followers will be awake by nightfall, and ready to heed our summons in a few days' time, once you are finished with preparations."

The voice grows more distant as it speaks, and the very atmosphere seems to be following it. Going deeper into the darkness, into a place where you cannot follow. The sound of rustling leaves and of the shearing of scissors growing lower and further away, growing wrong and more alien with every passing moment.



"We shall reconvene shortly, and you will each be told what parts you must play then. For now, we must allow the Histories to settle down, for they have surely been rattled tonight, and they will writhe even more before the sun sets again."



And with that, the voice finally disappears, its presence leaving this place forever. And right when your Master leaves you, you hear something that you never thought you would hear inside of this room.

You hear a match being struck.

Without warning or source, a lit candle appears in the very middle of the circle. Nopony is close enough to it to have placed it there, and no glowing horn is in sight, hinting at who might have been responsible for this. But for the first time in many years, light is visible in this place.

The candle's light is constant and unfading, and it seems to have a spark of Lantern on its very center.

You feel the Woods receding from around you, the final whispers of its presence, the ones that did not accompany your Master's exit, disappearing under the scrutiny of light and attention. And for the first time ever, while in this place, you feel worn bricks underneath your hoofs.

You see small and cramped walls around you, dimly illuminated by the candle. You see the faces of your compatriots around the circle with you, and a few other shocked ponies that you do not know nearby.

And you see a great crowd of sleeping ponies behind you, some of them even piled on top of each other.

But none of that really matters to you, right now, for you have seen too much. Your mind is abuzz, and your life, the way you see the world, will never be the same.









What might change? What has changed?



The Opening Lessons:

-You accepted what had to be done, and aided in delivering a blow against a demigoddess, and in that there is a lesson of EDGE. Gain one scrap of EDGE Lore, if the lesson is embraced.
-A great power of MOTH was called upon, and you paid special attention to how it was called for. Though you did not understand what language was being whispered by your Master, if that was a language at all. Though you are not sure if what you saw was real to begin with. Gain one scrap of MOTH Lore, if the lesson is embraced.



The Deep Observations:

-You went deeper, and deeper, and deeper. You went down, and down, and down. And that has revealed to you that passages are not only roads or bridges or dreams, and also that roads and bridges and dreams are always passages. Taking note of this observation will award you with one scrap of KNOCK Lore.
-It was only a glimpse, but it was a glimpse through the eyes of something old, while you felt her feelings and thought her thoughts. There was something different about ancient Equestria, as if it was closer to something that is not quite as abundant today, and you felt it firsthoof. Taking note of this observation will award you with one scrap of SECRET HISTORIES Lore.



The Terrible Revelation:

-You have learned how the world will end, how all the worlds end, and you shall carry that knowledge for the rest of your life. But whether if you will carry it as a scar that only marked you, or as a burden that pains you, is up to you. Gain two scraps of WINTER Lore, unless you deny this revelation.



And in the end… after bearing witness to the ritual-



[] You realize that you had a smile on your face: Princess Luna is weak, but she still bears immense power. She is like a spoiled child, unaware of what she could do if she had the will to, so perhaps the term "Princess" really is fitting, after all. You will take her power, or you will take her, and then you will take what comes next. Everything between here and there will become means to those ends.

-You will learn from the Opening Lessons.
-You will take note of the Deep Observations.
-You will accept the Terrible Revelation.
-You will receive an additional EDGE scrap of lore, for your ambition, as well as +1 Martial and +1 Intrigue, for they will be sorely needed.
-Any action will be permissible, and everything you did, up until now, has been an act. But you are really good at acting.
-This quest will receive the "Villain" tag.
-And there will be no love within you.



[] You realize just how right your Master is: Your Master is right, and it is a blessing that you have met Copper Secateur and, through her, been induced into the cult. You must defend Equestria, no matter the cost, and only by furthering your cult will that be possible.

-You will learn from the Opening Lessons.
-You will take note of the Deep Observations.
-You will accept the Terrible Revelation.
-You will be personally loyal to your Master. Thoughts of betrayal will be much harder to harbor, even if you are required to do more questionable things. The alternative if you fail is too horrible, after all.
-Your loyalty will make itself shown through every small act, and every small word. You will grow in the eyes of your Master more quickly and will be more rewarded for your efforts.



[] You nod, a grim understanding coming to you: Equestria is in danger, and something must be done about it. You have not reached the point where you think a line has been crossed, not when considering what you have just seen. But you will keep that line close to your heart, for you know that you will lose something the day you cross it, and it is not something you wish to lose if you can avoid.

-You will learn from the Opening Lessons.
-You will take note of the Deep Observations.
-You will accept the Terrible Revelation.
-You will remain in your cult, but you will be attentive to your actions. The decision of whether what you are doing is correct, or not, will be made by you later.
-This is the "neutral" option. Call it noncommitment or call it wisdom, but the pony sitting on the fence can see further and clearer than those on the ground.



[] You shake your head in denial. This, just now, was wrong: There are better ways to do this. YOU know better ways to do it. But it is undeniable that you do know no a lot, about almost everything else. Your cult has an established structure and is growing, and you have a position of power within in, but after tonight, you do not intent to stay forever.

-You will NOT learn from the Opening Lessons.
-You will take note of the Deep Observations.
-You will accept the Terrible Revelation.
-The seed of betrayal will be planted in your heart, and you will slowly allow it to grow. You will remain in your cult, but with a hidden agenda.
-This is the subtle option for betrayal, and you will play the long game. Whether if you will attempt to take over the cult slowly, turning those who are closer to you against your Master one at a time, or if you will aim at taking your Master down in one fell swoop will be up to you.



[] You loudly decry your master. A moment too late, a second after his presence is gone, but you are heard by everypony else: What you did tonight was wrong, and your Master either knew of the consequences, or he is not wise enough to be worth following. But regardless of what he is, you will actively oppose him.

-You will NOT learn from the Opening Lessons.
-You will NOT take note of the Deep Observations.
-You will accept the Terrible Revelation.
-You will attempt create a splinter from your cult. It will not be easy, but surely there will be some who will follow. You will choose whether if you will do it immediately, while the fright of the ritual is recent in the minds of the ponies who saw to its conclusion, or if you will do it later, albeit soon. But your intentions will be clear from the start.
-This is the unsubtle and fast option for leaving your cult, while keeping in touch with the esoteric.
-You will make an enemy out of your Master, but your actions will decide just how much of his attention and wrath you will attract.



[] You left. You broke. You galloped away, screaming, and you arrived home limping, your leg cramped with debilitating pain. No more of this. No more.: You do not want to have anything to do with this anymore. The ritual was too wrong, the memories of Princess Luna too vivid. The worms were too frightening.

-You will NOT learn from the Opening Lessons.
-You will NOT take note of the Deep Observations.
-You will DENY the Terrible Revelation.
-You will immediately break ties with your cult. A further option will be opened as to whether you wish too KEEP or FORGET your current Mansus Lore. There is no way to know how your Master, and the cult, will react.
-The quest will change very much indeed.





Regardless of your choice (unless you choose to flee), the following will also apply:

You have seen too much, you now know what exactly is at stake. And considering that "everything" is what is at stake, you are gripped by a sudden sense of urgency. You will receive +1 action per turn, as well as the option to "Neglect work to gain more actions", although those will inevitably draw suspicion.

Princess Celestia will now actively start hunting for whoever struck against her beloved sister. Delayed, as all efforts are being directed at locating Luna.

The Grand Galloping Gala has been canceled.

A vote-picking turn will follow, as your cult reconvenes to iron out the next and immediate priorities. By then the news of Luna's disappearance will already have reached Ponyville.

This vote is extremely important. It will be the basis of how Velvet Covers sees the world and plans her actions. Said view might change in time, as more things pile over this and more knowledge is learned, but this particular foundation brick will never be truly removed.
> Turn 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



Your answer was... a nod. A grim nod. Indicating a deep understanding that Equestria is in danger, and that something must be done.
You do not yet know if what the Cult just did... if what you just participated in, was truly right or wrong. At least, not in the grand scheme of things. Because as horrifying as your actions might have been, that was also necessary for you to learn about an even greater danger.
However, you will keep a close eye on cult. You will be watchful for that line on the sand. If nothing else, so you can know when you are about to truly cross it.



Are you supposed to just continue to live normally? Are you supposed to just go back home, and start your day as if nothing had happened?

You step out into the streets, but you don't even bother being cautious or discrete about it. There is too much on your mind right now for you to care about anything at all.

This, all of this, has just been too overwhelming. From the moment you woke up today, it has just been one thing after the other. First of all you have these… memories about how you got to the cult meeting to begin with. You vaguely remember having a conversation with your Master, perhaps in the Woods during a dream, but after that you only recall images and sensations.

The feeling that your body was smaller than it should be, the idea that even the soft moonlight might have blinded you if you looked at it directly. Nothing that really makes sense.

And then there was the cult's gathering proper… and the ritual itself.

You saw through the eyes of Princess Luna. You were Princess Luna during certain parts of it. You felt her confusion at her sister's sudden proposal, even if it was within a dream. You experienced the incredibly deep bond that they share. You saw the world through her eyes and even felt her deep and honest happiness as if it had been your own… at least for the first few parts of the dream.

And of course, there was also what came next…

The alicorns, or at least the two royal sisters, seem to have come from somewhere else. From the "outside" as your Master sometimes calls it, or maybe you should refer to it as Nowhere. But they are not from here, regardless. And their actions, or perhaps the peace that they enforce, is causing something to grow within Equestria.

And this light, this music, whatever it might be called, is in turn attracting…

You shudder, the memory too recent and all too real for you to want to focus on it.

You felt what she felt, and after you left her body you continued to witness what she went through. It is impossible for you not to feel dazed at what happened. You are not sure if what you are feeling is empathy for the suffering of somepony you were for a short while, pity for what she suffered, shame over your own actions, or perhaps some sort of sympathetic fright, borne from the fact that during a few moments you thought that Princess Luna's agony was your own, even though you were already watching from far away.

Well, as far away as you were watching from you could still see clearly, and you could still hear.

You hope that one day you will forget that sound.

But what about it then? What can you possibly do about the things that you have just seen, the things that you have just learned? You are but a single pony, a mortal mare among the countless masses that inhabit Equestria. What can you do to stem the tides, to have some influence over powers whose scope seems to be the entire world, if not far, far more?

What can you possibly do to influence forces of such magnitude? Destroy the peace? Turn Equestria into a land of misery? Much as your Master insists that the world is not as it should be, that surely can't be the way. Equestria is still not a bad world… right?

You do not know. You have a sudden and chilling thought that, perhaps, that terrible fate you saw is the price to be paid for being allowed to feel happiness. As if the whole universe is wired in a way that no hope or joy can truly be experienced for free. This thought hits you like an icy breeze.

You do not know what to do. You are not sure if you know anything anymore.

But you are sure that you must do something, and if nopony else knows what that is, at least your Master seems to have an idea.





You are finally home and… you let out a tired sigh.

The front gate is locked, of course.

But being locked outside your own house is not the cause of your distress. Even though you are on this situation because something happened, and you have the vague memory of having jumped over the walls around your estate as you left late in the night, heavens know how.

No, what is causing your heart to weight is a simple, almost unrelated question.

"When did this start?"

You eye the keyhole of the heavy gate.

When did this, all of this, start happening?

When was the first time that you looked at a keyhole, much like this one, and started to think of it as a simple road or as a morning dream, instead of as the complicated piece of metal that it is?

You recall a few Knock secrets and focus your magic on your horn for a few moments. With a rapid succession of clicks the lock juts into an open position, its movement so effortless that you might as well have just used the real key you probably left back in your room.

When did you learn to do something like that? Or rather, the question is not when did you learn. But when did it become so obvious that doing something like this can be so simple?

You walk into the main hall of your house, although for some reason even having a roof over your head doesn't help you stop feeling that you might see something in the sky if you look up. Even though you know you will only see those things in the Dreamlands… you hope.

You go up the main stairs, towards the corridor that leads to your family's rooms, and the question strikes you again.

When was the last time, you can't help but wonder, that you walked up these stairs and actually produced any kind of noise that you could hear? You know that some of the wooden steps creak, even if only slightly, you have heard it from when the servants go up and down through it. But when was the last time that those specific spots weren't jarringly clear for you? When was the last time you did not avoid them almost out of instinct?

You open the door to your room, again soundlessly, and peek your head inside.

Your husband is still there, fast asleep and snoring lightly. He appears to be hugging your side of the bed, perhaps thinking you are still there. You try to smile at that, but not even that thought seems to summon any sort of happiness from you right now.

You go into your daughter's room instead, and sit down next to her bed. You try to gaze at her peaceful expression while she sleeps, perhaps that might help you put things into some sort of order or perspective.

But it does not help either. Every time you look at her, you wonder if she is dreaming. And every time you wonder if she is dreaming, you shudder at the thought that there might be something, at this exact moment, trying to force its way into her dreams.

To the balcony then. And if even the company of a book will not do, then perhaps solitude might be the only option left. At least for now.

At least until you sort out your own thoughts.

At least until you can answer the question that is haunting you. The question of...

"When will I ever again see the world as I used to?", you whisper to yourself as you close the balcony door behind you, locking with a flick of your magic.

You already know the answer, of course, but it still torments you all the same.



Up until now you had always seen going to the cult as some sort of hobby, a fancy that a bored noble mare would indulge in, in to forget about the less pleasant parts of her life. You always thought, even if only partially, that your Master's speeches about how the world is wrong were just semantics, a narrative that focused on certain aspects that certainly are pony-influenced, but nothing more.

But after what you have just seen? The world has never felt more wrong, like it is the mixture of several pieces that simply do not fit. Or perhaps you are the piece that no longer fits in it, so the discrepancies that were once subtle are now crystal clear from your crooked perspective.

For the whole day you think you are alone in these thoughts, alone in this point of view. For the whole day, as much as you feel your husband's worried gaze through the window of the balcony, and as much as you picture your daughter's scared expression as she spies at you, you feel you are alone in thinking that something is deeply wrong with… all of this. You think you are alone in this horrible realization.

Until the end of the day arrives and the sun does not set, as if to warn the whole world that nothing will ever be the same.



You have gained a scrap of EDGE Lore.

EDGE Lore is now level one.



You have gained a scrap of MOTH Lore.

MOTH Lore is now level three.



You have gained a scrap of KNOCK Lore.

KNOCK Lore is now level two.



You have gained a scrap of SECRET HISTORIES Lore.

SECRET HISTORIES is now level two.



…

WINTER Lore is now level two.









A full week passes, ever since that morning, before you reconvened.

The six of you are alone now, in the Woods. Your Master has just left after giving you the most basic of instructions.

He seemed dismissive, almost. Distracted. Although in all honesty there was not much to be discussed. Everypony already had a good idea of what needed to be done even before the reunion started.

There was only a single detail, of course, a specific task whose only uncertainty was to whom it would be trusted. But all else went somewhat as expected.

Windy Flakes is to finish establishing the new commercial front for the cult, and Starry Dancer must get in the know with the local merchants and bit-handlers in order to help him. Her task of trying to gain influence with the ponies who enforce the law has been aborted, since there is now an active investigation going on due to a murder. A crime of this gravity is already relatively rare in Ponyville, so her sudden presence and interest could very well be equated (correctly, somepony might add) to some sort of link to it.

Comet Feet has been ordered to continue furthering his understanding of Edge, and to lay low while at it. The Master was specific for him to get away from the town, although summoning him back if needed will not be a problem thanks to the very Woods in which you stand. Copper Secateur, on the other hand, must be more active. The mare has been asked both to attempt to interfere with the ongoing investigations, as well as to try to convert as many initiates as possible, taking advantage of the current ruckus on Canterlot.

And then he gave his final and most awaited instruction, although you cannot honestly say that you expected it to be given to the remaining two of you.

"Jade Whistle and Velvet Covers are to search for the fallen alicorn. Our next step would have been to reach for the Ritual Circle that allows for three Aspects, so that we might summon creatures from the Mansus to do our bidding. But this golden opportunity cannot be allowed to pass us by. Bend your every effort into it."

After saying his piece, the Master simply left, the wind accompanying him with a strange and soft sound that almost sounded like somepony mumbling under their own breath.

And the six of you were left alone.

"Well then ladies, if you will excuse me!" Windy Flakes says with a brilliant smile, turning to walk towards the darkness that surrounds you. Comet Feet leaves at the same time, but without saying a single word.

You, on the other hand, intent to stay and discuss your plans with Jade Whistle, but you can't help but see that the other two mares are still here. Much like you can't help but notice that one of them seems to be almost rooted on the spot where she has been sitting this whole time.

"Starry Dancer?" Copper finally takes the risk, addressing the mare that has been unusually quiet, "is there anything you would like to talk to us about?"

The pink pegasus seems to think for a moment, a nervous expression marring her usually cheerful face.

"Well… I know that Master seemed busy, so I didn't have the opportunity to ask him but… are any of you…?" she clearly hesitates, and mulls over her words for a little while longer, "…about the thirty two ponies who…?"

Copper had been vague enough so that she might be asking whether if Starry Dancer had any ploys she would like to discuss, but the more you learn about Starry the more you realize these social subtleties are not at all needed with her. She may have not even worded a proper question, but you all immediately understand what she means.

The same way you can all see that she is, somewhat, dreading what sort of reactions you might all have.

"Oh Starry, why didn't you just come out and say it?" Copper walks towards her, a calming smile on her face, "we all saw the same thing you saw," she says, and you can see that she means it.

"So you feel bad about it as well…?" Starry asks, slowly, as if somewhat not sure if she should.

"How could we not?" Copper's smile turns bitter, but she keeps it on her face regardless, "but you have to agree as well that it was…"

"In order to protect what is important, sometimes one must do questionable things," Jade Whistle interrupts, or rather complements, Copper Secateur, much to your surprise. She still has her usual expression, that neutral gaze that seems to be only slightly bored.

But this time, you actually feel something a bit deeper about her tone.

"But Windy seemed to have a smile on his face and…" Starry retorts, still downtrodden.

"Windy Flakes always has a smile on his face", you talk over Starry Dancer before she can even finish her sentence, trying your best to seem well humored about it as well.

You also try your best to make it sound like it was just the unicorn being himself, and not that he was acting amused specifically because of the particular thing you are talking about. Although you strongly suspect that was the case.

"But what we mean, Starry," Copper continues, "is that we… well, I think I can say we are all in this together. We have to, after all, you know we do."

It is clear that you are all just trying to cheer her up, to embolden her even if just a little. What all of you are saying is true, or at least you think everypony is being honest. But the weight of the things you are leaving unspoken is just too heavy for this to feel like anything more than bravado. You aren't actually addressing the subject, there isn't really anything that can be said, but the three of you are still here for her regardless.

And you hope this helps her, even if just a tiny little bit. You even dare say that you hope that this helps you too, as well.

You hope that knowing that you all feel the same, and are wordlessly promising to have each other's hinds, will help you focus a little more on what you have to do. That it will shed just a little more light on the whole situation.

"I… I think I understand… thank you," she says, with a lot less energy than usual, but still with a noticeable tone of honesty, even if only dejected honesty.

The answer that you three gave her was clearly not been the answer she had hoped for. But you know that anything else would have been either cold indifference… or the little lies that you would tell a filly to shield her from the truth. But all of you have witnessed the same things, there was no way you could even attempt to say those lies. They would have chocked in your throat even if you tried.

Knowledge is never kind, and the one you all just grasped is perhaps the most unkind that you have ever learned. But you truly hope that she will manage to harness it and work upon it, rather than be consumed by it.

Much like you hope you will be able to do that yourself.
> Moth 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Mommy, can I stay here with you?"

It was a sudden request. Your daughter simply appeared in your office, way after her bed time you might add, and asked if she could stay with you. You asked her if she had a bad dream, or if she would like you to read her a bedtime story or anything. But her answer was straightforward in a way that only a child's request can be.

"No, just wanna stay here with you, if it's ok."

That had been a few hours ago.

Silky Stream is still worried about you, that much is clear, and you can't blame her for it. Saying that you lost your composure on the day you witnessed Princess Luna's dreams doesn't even begin to describe how you were.

In hindsight, you know it could have been a lot worse. At least you were just quiet, at least you "only" wanted to stay alone, you didn't break down or let any stronger emotion take over you.

You would like to say that you also didn't react nearly as bad as the Princess, but even thinking about such comparison feels outright insensitive to you.

However, as much as your reaction was one of silence, it still did not stop your family from worrying, of course. Stormchaser subtly (well, subtly by his standards that is) hid from you that he had been called for an obviously urgent trip, after the explosion in the royal castle, just to stay with you for the next few days. He and your daughter practically hounded you during that time, until Stormchaser was content and convinced that you were feeling better.

But your husband is a grown stallion, he has the maturity of an adult, and a worrying situation like that is something he can handle. Your daughter, on the other hoof, is just a filly.

She wasn't just worried, she was scared. She still is.

So, you can understand why she is still feeling like this, why she is still coming to you more frequently, with that poorly hidden trepidation caused by something that is out of her control. That is why she is sleeping on the cushioned sofa you have on your office, wanting to be in your company simply because she has no idea of what else she can do.

"But still, as much as mommy enjoys being with you, it really is time for little fillies to go to bed," you whisper in her direction, not really wanting to wake her up, and get up from your chair.

You could float her with magic, of course, but for some reason another whim catches your fancy, accompanied by a mixture of nostalgia combined with the slight sadness that the day will soon come when you will no longer be able to do this.

"Let's see if I can still…" but that day is not today, and with the gentlest of touches you slowly lift your daughter with your hoofs and put her on your back.

Of course you are proud that you managed to do it without her waking up, but when did your little filly get so heavy?!

Your leg protests slightly at the added weight, but you couldn't care less. With gentle hoofsteps you make your way down the corridor, and head into your daughter's room.

You cheat a bit on this last part, using the slightest nudge of magic just to get her to a better position so you can put her to bed. But soon enough you have your daughter peacefully tucked in, her little face resting on her pillow, breathing softly.

You let out a small sigh. There are several things going on through your head, several thoughts from which you can pick right now, some of them good, many of them bad.

But the only thing that really comes to mind is that your daughter is growing. Slowly, quickly, steadily, into a pony that right now is totally different from the little foal you would carry not long ago. And although you adore her to pieces as she is right now, you can't help but think that watching her grow even more will be a change that you know will be for the best.

Changes can be good, after all. Of course you knew that, but having somepony remind you about it is always good.

"So thank you for reminding me of this, sweetie," you give her a light kiss on the forehead, with a smile on your face, and you write a mental note that you ought to be extra cheerful tomorrow to put her at ease.

You take one last look at her peaceful expression, feeling your mind go into the usual rounds of thinking about how cute your daughter is, and then you move to turn off the lamp. She really needs to sleep after all, and you need to let her.

You turn to the lamp.

And you realize that it is off, the candlelight within it dead and cold.

You tilt your head in surprise. Well then, you just need to close the curtains and leav-

The curtains are also closed shut.

You feel your heart beating just a little bit faster, not exactly with worry or fright, but instead accompanying the rhythm of your mind as it slowly reaches the realization that something is very, very wrong.

You look around, searching for the source of light, your mind trying to make sense of the fact that you can see your daughter clearly, you can see everything clearly, and yet there is not a single candle or open window in sight. You even make sure to even check your horn, as much as that sort of magical misfiring would be beyond weird from a mare your age.

Until you finally realize something.



Your eyes are closed. They have been closed this entire time.



A slight chill runs down your spine as you slowly open your eyes, only to be greeted by the total darkness of your daughter's room, the soft sound of her breathing and the pounding of your heart being the only things keeping you company.

And you finally understand what has happened to you.

You wonder what this change means. You wonder if it could ever possibly mean something good.





You have reached the third level of MOTH Lore and have come to a "realization", learning a secret that comes with it. Velvet Covers no longer needs light to operate, at least while in mundane darkness.

You have learned that the third level of a Lore will always entail "a subtle change of mind and body", although you do not know if that is good or bad.

You believe that the next level of knowledge can be achieved once you reach a "confident certainty" pertaining the Lore.
> Turn 5 - Results, part 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



Knowing what you must do next, search for Princess Luna, you have decided to look for her through all avenues available. You will look for her through the Dreamlands and, as a noble, you will aid in the official search efforts that are being done nation-wide.
Furthermore, you will definitely benefit from growing closer to your fellow Cultists.



"Goodbye! And you make sure to listen to Soft Sweeps!"

"Okay mom! Byeeee!"

You exchange farewells with your daughter for what must be the umpteenth time as your carriage slowly makes its way towards the gates of your estate, and you are sure you would have done it a few more times if not for the fact that the carriage has finally turned toward the road, placing the walls between you and her.

You sag down to your seat, already starting to feel worried.

"Everything all right ma'am?" Ponpon, sitting next to you, asks.

But that's just a courtesy question. She knows you too well, so the answer is already obvious.

"Aaaahh…" you let out a disgruntled moan, your hoofs going to your face as you try to regain some semblance of composure, "it'll be a whole week Ponpon. A whole week!"

You sit back up as the carriage gains speed. A beautiful scenery of farmlands and greenery passes through your window, although you couldn't care less.

"I told her and re-told her everything she should be careful with. Soft Sweeps was kind enough to agree with staying the nights until we are back, so thank the heavens for that. I trust everypony that works at our house... but still."

You fumble, as if you are trying to grasp for something that isn't there, only to give up not long after.

"I'm sure Silky will be just fine, ma'am. And you have already been away from home before, when she was even younger," she remarks, with a calm expression that seems only very slightly humored.

"Yes, but Stormchaser had been home during those periods," you say, unconsciously summoning the archives of your head and drawing a timeline of when you had been at home taking care of your daughter.

Your heartbeat quickens as you reach out for more and more of your recollections. You have practically been with Silky during her whole life, you have to turn this carriage around right now and-!

"Ma'am", Ponpon shakes you out of it before you can finish your thought process, and you see in her eyes that she knows exactly what you are thinking about, "Silky Stream is already a grown filly. Plus, she's with Soft Sweeps, and although she hasn't told me what exactly happened between her and Silky, I can guarantee that she is taking to her assignment as her caretaker with dedication."

You look into Ponpon's eyes and you can see that she is being honest, a long sigh escaping you as you lightly let go of yourself on your seat.

"I suppose…" you admit defeat, trying not to think too hard about it.

Ponpon, seeing that you have finally calmed down, lets out a short laugh as she remembers something.

"In fact, perhaps too much dedication, ma'am. There's been this gossip going around that Silky has been calling her 'sister' and…" she chuckles a little bit more, "well. You worry too much ma'am. I promise you that everything will be just fine."

You really hope Ponpon is right. But you still can't help but worry about it, even if just a bit less.





There has been no small amount of effort put into it, the whole affair of searching for the Princess. Pegasus town criers arrived in Ponyville less than three days after the news, and they brought with them instructions to anypony interested in helping in the search for Princess Luna.

The details that they brought about the occurrence, as well, were interesting. They declared that there had been an attack on the capital, and that Princess Luna went missing. Their version of why the sun did not set that day, also, followed the lines of Princess Celestia immediately setting out to look for her.

But you have a little bit more of… insight, of what happened. You can connect the subtle holes on that narrative well enough.

They also omitted a few details that you heard from gossip, of course, the ones about Princess Cadance sitting on the sun throne during those few first days. But from what you have heard, Princess Celestia is already active once again, and seems to be engaging in this search with every last fiber of her being.

Understandably so, of course.

Regardless, your carriage arrives at the Ponyville train station, in which you, Ponpon and one of the two carriage-pullers board one of the daily trains specifically dedicated to ferrying volunteers for the search.

Princess Celestia must truly be mobilizing all of Equestria for this. Hearing that there would be means available for anypony who wanted to join is one thing. But seeing the actual train schedule, the Equestria-wide train schedule made to gather and move around every last bit of available horsepower is another thing entirely.

And your understanding of just how large this whole thing will be just grows when you finally arrive at your destination.

It was a rather short train ride. The train followed the railroad that leads to Canterlot, but took a curve right before entering the tunnels that would scale the insides of the mountain, towards the capital.

That curve was not there the last time you took this train, mind you. Earth pony industry really is something else.

And after no much time at all it arrives at a train station that, again, you are sure did not exist last week.

The building itself seems solid and reliable, but the lack of pony flare or the usual ornaments that one would expect from equestrian architecture goes to show that it was built to be functional. That is, perhaps, the only evidence that it had been built in a hurry.

You disembark from the train together with dozens of other volunteers and you take a look around. You can't help but notice that the place right outside the train station looks like a Royal Guard camp.

Actually, you realize in a few moments, it IS a Royal Guard Camp.

Royal guards, the real deal and not just regular town guards, are waiting next to the train, pointing the coming volunteers in the direction they should go. A small sea of tents, topped with colored banners, is visible not far from there, and you can mentally map their purposes. A sea of small tents in orderly rows, probably to be occupied by volunteers, large tents topped with red flags surrounded by cargo carriages, possibly for supplies. The place seems to have been well thought out, and already you spy that one of the larger tents is a bit far from the rest, with the flag of the Equestria fixed on its top, instead of a plain colored one.

You give Blunderer, your accompanying ponyservant, some quick instruction of where to head with your luggage, and nod for Ponpon to follow you.

Yes, there are royal guards herding the volunteers into lines, but you aren't just any old volunteer.

You are in a travelling dress, and you have a fully uniformed maid by your side. That is bound to get you to places more easily.



[The application of influence, breakpoints 40/80]

[Roll: 6 + 11 (Diplomacy) + 5 (GRAIL bonus) = 22]



"Excuse me sir, good evening," you and Ponpon approach one of the royal guards that are directing the lines, "me and my friend here would like t-"

"Ma'am," he cuts over you, with the sharp voice of a pony you would indeed expect to be in the guard, "please follow the lines so you can be sorted together with the other volunteers."

His tone was like a slap to your face. He didn't even look at you while he was speaking, but he made it very clear that you should get moving and not disturb him any further.

And much like how you would react to a slap, you really stand there for a few moments, slightly shocked.

You can see Ponpon biting her lips as well, as if unsure of what you will do next.

"Ma'am, should w-?"

"Ponpon" you interrupt her, a smile re-appearing on your face, "would you kindly help Blunderer with our luggage?"

You see Ponpon look at you with a somewhat wary expression, but she quickly leaves you with a hurried "yes ma'am".

Why is she suddenly so worried? Does she expect you to start a loud fuss with the guard or anything? You honestly thought she knew you better than that. Besides, you know that it wouldn't work regardless.

No, you have something else in mind.



[The other path, breakpoints 50/100]

[Roll: 80 + 12 (Intrigue) + 15 (MOTH bonus) = 107]



You head to the lines, as you were dutifully directed by the polite royal guard, with the only difference being that you don't exactly fall in on the line, you navigate through it. Some ponies might call it "skipping" but what you are doing is far more advanced than that.

You weave your path through the gathered mass of ponies as they try to form a semblance of order. It is a little like trotting towards a closing door, only to pass through it moments before it finally closes, like the subtle dance in the shadows of a twilight, when neither the sun or the moon are in primacy, the crossing of the subtle path that forms whenever order and chaos clash. You do not collide against a single pony, even as dozens of them walk to and fro around you, while getting into an organized position, and you are the very first pony of the line on the exact moment that everypony is finally in orderly rows. You don't even spare a glance at the waiting guard as he handles you a brochure with instructions and points you in the direction you should go.

You mind absently notes that you have not stopped walking during all of this, not even for a moment. But you ignore that useless "rational" part of your brain as you make your way to the sea of white tents, floating the brochure in front of you and quickly checking the map printed on it.

Rationality failed you the moment that guard dismissed you, so you will take the other path.

You make your way into the sea of white tents, although the one on the opposite direction that you were supposed to head to. This place is a Royal Guard camp, for sure, but only in the sense that it was prepared by the Royal Guard. There are no patrols to speak of, or at least respectable patrols, as every last guard is busy taking in the next mass of civilians that just arrived.

This is not a military camp on a war footing, there are no walls or palisades. And that must be because everypony knows that, well, that ponies are trusting and reliable beings, or at least that the grand majority of them are, especially when they gather in large numbers to help each other. So although you could have some critics to the fact that you have not stumbled on any pony who thinks you are being suspicious, you also see the logic in not diverting their already thinly spread efforts into guarding against the very ponies who have arrived to lend their hoofs.

You do have to take some detours every now and then, of course, after all you are already quite far from the clearly labeled "volunteer camp", and you are already working your way through the supply camps and the more militarized part of the complex. But soon enough you have your sights on the place you believe that the leadership is, the banner of the pony kingdom flying high on top of it.

There are two guards in front of the door, of course.

But sometimes, not faking anything is the best form of fakery.

You confidently trot in the direction of the two guards, with the same focused (and perhaps slightly bored) expression you would wear while working, and the two guards simply nod at you and open the door so you can go in.

"The meeting is already underway, ma'am," one of them even volunteers politely.



Its rather ironic, you muse. There technically "was" an attack against the capital by an unknown enemy, as the stories go, although you know the fact of the matter is a lot more complicated than that. But technically, going by that version of the story, you "are" an agent of said unknown enemy.

So, you find it somewhat amusing that you managed to sneak into a command tent of the Royal Guard under these circumstances. It even crosses your mind that if that attack had been the opening move of a war, and if you were an assassin, then you would be able to cause all sorts of trouble from here on.

And you are only slightly worried that these thoughts crossed your mind so suddenly. Ponies are, after all. peaceful and trusting creatures, so you wonder just how strange this thought just now was supposed to have been. You shake your head to dismiss those thoughts, knowing that you have far more important things to focus on, and step into the large tent.



[The Most Important Treasure Hunt Ever]

[Crown adherence: auto 100. Every last bit of infrastructure will be bent to this end, by Royal Decree if needed.]

[Commonpony adherence: 86. National commotion.]

[Noble adherence: 27. Even now, they see this only as a chance to turn on each other.]



And you see chaos.

"Sir, another train just arrived. The headcount should be coming in shortly."

"I'm telling you, we don't need just a headcount, it needs to be specific! For the third time, how many pegasus do we have in this camp?!"

"Captain! There has been a problem with the train bringing supplies from Cantelot, we wont be able to-"

"Sir, somepony is already gathering the volunteers, they are waiting for you to-!"

"Captain, please you have to-!"

You see chaos.

The inside of the command tent is large and tall, a proper meeting hall where over a dozen ponies are gathered. There is a large wooden table on the center with a gigantic and detailed map of Equestria spread over it, divided into several areas by red lines. Each area, you think, centered around a camp such as this.

You aren't savvy on the workings of the Royal Guard, but everypony is wearing some sort of insignia or armor, and everypony seems to be talking at the same time.

No... you might not know the first thing about the Royal Guard, but you are knowledgeable when it comes to power and status. In a few moments it becomes clear to you that what you are seeing is not exactly everypony talking at the same time, but rather that everypony is talking to a single pony at the same time.

On the far end of the table you see him, a unicorn stallion in armor, his helmet forgotten next to him on the table as he passes a nervous hoof over his forehead.

That is probably the "captain" everypony is shouting for.

And he desperately is in need of assistance.



[Aiding in the ponyhunt, breakpoints 35/70/105]

[Roll: 96 + 10 (Stewardship) = 106]



You see confusion, and that is something you know well. You see how you could cause this chaos to grow, how to turn this whole place into an uncoordinated buzz of contradicting activity with but a few whispers or panicked remarks.

But you are not here to cause chaos. Quite "au contraire" as Rarity says all the time, you are here to do the opposite.

However... you simply wont be able to work while everyone is being so… loud.

"Will everypony please be quiet."

You stomp a hoof on the table, and everypony falls silent as if a sudden cold breeze had hit them.

You take a deep breath. Everypony is looking at you now, including that "captain", but you know that their surprised attention will not last long.

"Lady Velvet Covers," you say shortly, "from Canterlot," you add in the blink of an eye, and you immediately see that some of the ponies calm down noticeably with that, at the idea that some higher authority has sent an agent to aid them.

Well, that is technically not true, although the semantics of you really being a noble making it some sort of grey area, but they probably don't need to know that.

"And you are captain…?" you throw an inquisitive glance, a commanding inquisitive glance, at the pony on the other side of the table, to which he replies by nearly going ramrod straight in his posture.

"Captain Chalkhoof, my Lady," he answers, and you merely give him a grave nod for an answer.

You sit down next to the table and give the map a once-over. It seems you were correct in believing that there are several camps such as this, each in charge of an area, and this camp seems to be responsible for searching the surroundings of Canterlot and the neighboring lands and cities, all the way to the terrestrial limits of Cloudsdale.

But if they are all as disorganized as this one, the search is off to a very poor start indeed.

"Supplies," you say, as if you were addressing a pony whether than just saying the word, and as you intended you see one of the ponies around the table snap into attention, "get me an inventory of what we already have on-site. I want this camp established and sure that it will be fed before we start planning our search parties."

"Whoever is in charge of the civilians," an armored mare reacts, "get me that headcount. We can sort everypony into groups later, but what we can't do is produce more tents out of thin air. Give me an answer of how many more ponies we can manage before this place bursts with volunteers."

"And…" you stop, finally taking your eyes away from the map as you look around, noticing that everypony is still in silence. You can feel a strange unease settling into the air as they keep their confused eyes on you.

You let out a theatrically annoyed sigh, making sure everypony present can hear it, and you look straight into the captain's eyes, far as he may be on the other side of the table.

You clop a hoof against the table twice, sending him a stare as if he were failing to answer a very obvious question, and let a wordless "Well? Tut-tut?" hang in the air around you.

"What are you waiting for?" the captain finally snaps out of it and looks at the still-stunned ponies around the table, "by the princesses, do what she says!"

And with that, the command tent becomes a buzz of activities. Several ponies rushing away to perform their assignments, and several others getting things into order as you continue to snap out one instruction after the other.

You see one of them bringing a chair and placing it next to the captain, and you head there before even being invited to, the captain himself looking much less lost as he starts telling you the details of the situation while you float an apparently ownerless set of ink and paper in your direction.

"And have some guards watch the path between the train station and the civilian camp proper. I don't want anypony losing their way between those two places and ending up here by accident!" you shout at nopony in particular as you start taking notes of what the captain is saying.





After a long week, most of which was spent getting the camp into an efficient semblance of order so that proper searches may begin, you finally say your farewells to captain Chalkhoof. He seems almost distraught when he realizes you are leaving, but after a few deep breaths he gives you a confident nod.

"Thank you, Lady Velvet. You can trust us to take it from here."





Later this month you will receive word that the areas around Canterlot are being combed. Princess Luna is not, as far as the searches go, anywhere in the lands surrounding the capital. This knowledge will aid in your own efforts while searching her.

Equestria being a kingdom, "noble adherence" can be seen as "organization", while "commonpony adherence" can be seen as "available workforce". The search efforts have muscle and means, but from what you hear of noble gossip it seems to be extremely lacking in organization.

Your aid to the searching camp has been efficient enough to attract somepony's attention.
> Turn 5 - Results, part 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You know a lot of things. Granted that nopony knows everything about anything, but you do pride yourself on your knowledge and education, even if just a bit.

However, you can say with a fair degree of certainty that you do not know the first thing about bombs.

You have never seen a bomb. You have never seen anything explode, bar the occasional magical mishap you have witnessed years ago, and you have never even witnessed the strange contraption called a "Party Cannon" which you have heard that exists in Ponyville.

However, you can't help but shake the feeling that, right now, you are holding a bomb.

"Can we?" the bomb whispers, repeatedly trying to force its way out of the tight grip of your foreleg, "can we? Canwe canwe canwecanwe?"

This "bomb", of course, is your daughter.

"Hush… just a little bit more…" you whisper back, willing her to stop prancing with your quiet tone.

You and your daughter are in the pitch-dark corridor of the second floor, right in front of the door to your own room. Well, Silky Stream is in a pitch-dark corridor, you can see just fine, but she knows the house well enough to know exactly where she is.

The two of you are here right now because your husband is still sleeping in your room, on the large bed beyond this very door. The same husband who arrived only yesterday, late at night, several days later than he said he would. The same husband who nearly collapsed at bed as soon as he arrived, obviously exhausted after heavens knows how much work he had to do thanks to the recent uproar in Canterlot.

The same husband who, today, is…

"How much longer? Moooom?!" Silky whispers in your direction. You smile at her impatience, and you note that at least she is still whispering, but she sure could use a little more of composure for this kind of situation.

Well, you can't exactly blame her either, you were also giddy yourself when you woke her up earlier this morning.

"Just a little bit more, Silky…" you whisper in her ear, feeling her trembling in excitement.

And then you hear the signal you had been waiting for, the soft chime of the clock on the main hall. The exact indication that Stormchaser has slept at least six hours now.

"Ok, he's all yours," you let go of Silky, and lightly open the door to your room with a flick of magic.

"DADDY!" your daughter practically explodes through the door, banging it open and flying straight into the large mount of covers shaped like her father's sleeping silhouette, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY!"

You walk into the room a few moments later, hearing the satisfying mixture of surprised whimpers from a recently-awakened stallion and your daughter's excited shouting as she repeatedly jumps on top of him.

"WAKEUP DAD! WAKEUP WAKEUP! ITS YOUR BIRTHDAY DADDY, LETS GO LETS GO!"

The prancing continues, and it gets quicker and more frantic with each passing moment. You have the impression that your husband reoriented himself under the sheets so your daughter will at least be jumping on his back now, but that makes little difference for the overexcited filly.

And as much as he clearly does not want to get up you calmly walk towards him anyways.

"Happy birthday dear" you whisper to the defeated mount of sheets, knowing that he can still hear you clearly even over your daughter's clamoring, "and I think we both know she won't stop until you're out of bed," you say with a smile.

"Can't my birthday present be…" he interrupts himself with a loud "ack!" as Silky probably lands a hoof somewhere more delicate, "five more minutes…?"

"No," you answer with a charming smile, which you know he can't see anyways, and then you turn your back to the two of them to head out of the room, "Silky dear, make sure daddy gets downstairs soon, alright?"

"Okay mom!" she answers, without breaking stride from her prancing.

You close the door behind you, ignoring the faint impression that your husband is calling for your help, and head downstairs.





"You honestly thought we would forget, dear? Preposterous!"

"Yeah daddy, prep… preposterous!"

Stormchaser nearly chokes at your daughter's attempt at imitating you, but soon enough he gulps down the cake he was chewing on.

"Well, I mean, I forgot about it. Besides, you know I don't really mind all of this," he says, trying to sound convincing in his lie.

Keyword being trying.

"Take note Silky," you say, changing your tone to something that sounds mockingly serious, "once you are a happily married mare you will celebrate your dear husband's birthday, no matter what he says."

"Right!"

You see your husband smile at that, a nearly imperceptible blush working its way through his cheeks, and you smile back at him.

The three of you are on top of a hill, one that is right next to your estate. This is a place you had found out about years ago, being an elevation that is right next to the very last bit of farmlands that surrounds your family's property. You had visited it once, long ago, with a prospecting team to see if there was anything worthwhile available to mine, although mining next to a farming operation is highly discouraged, but you earmarked it due to its beautiful view.

You have already been here before with Stormchaser and Silky, of course, but it still is one of your favorite places to be.

Especially during a picnic!

"Daddy, do you like the cake? Do you?" you daughter does the equivalent of jumping up and down while sitting still, "mom said I couldn't go to the bakery because I'd want to eat the place, but I told her what flavors to pick!"

Your husband nods profusely, in the middle of stuffing his mouth with another piece, and that is more than enough of an answer for your daughter.

"But whatever happened for you to take so long, dear?" you ask him, floating a napkin towards his face, "you usually don't take that long during your trips. And I can't remember when was the last time that you got home so late."

"It's just," he starts with his mouth still full, gulping down mid-sentence, "just boring work stuff dear. Nothing really important to share with you."

He might have said that, but you still see a small frown in his face as he wolfs down on his piece of cake. You still see a slight… shadow in his eyes.

You let out an inaudible grunt, this just will not do! You get up from where you are sitting around the picnic basket and sit down next to him, giving Silky a slight wink for her to follow your lead.

"Oh my dear cute sweetheart," you sit next to him, leaning against his side and resting your face against his shoulder, "don't be like that."

You feel him groan slightly at that, hearing you change your tone of voice into the cuddly-spoiling variation that always gets you what you want from him. He already knows what comes next, you grin at the thought.

"You're always such a big strong stallion, and also a caring and huggable dad," your daughter lands next to him, hugging him by the waist as if on cue, "but you don't have to be like that all the time if you don't feel like, especially not with your two favorite girls."

You see him frown at that, his smile turning into something else as he tries to resist your wiles.

But you know him too well to be dissuaded just by that. You've been married with him for too long.

"I just don't think it's important that I talk about work here and…"

"Not talking about work is fine, keeping certain parts of your life separate is fine, but you clearly brought a bit of those rainclouds back home. And I mean in here," you lightly touch your hoof against his chest, and you feel him sag a bit at that, "so don't worry, and just let us help you get that weight off from your shoulders, then."

"Yeah, nothing daddy says isn't important," Silky says helpfully, the side of her face still pressed against her father in a tight hug.

You see Stormchaser's mood slowly crumbling, and a tired expression finally surfacing from beneath his bravado.

You smile at that. You know he was happy with your and Silky's surprise, the whole birthday idea. You know he wouldn't fake that sort of thing for his own daughter, but you also realized that he has been carrying something heavy for a while now.

And it's not fair that he bends mountains to take care of you and Silky, but don't get anything in return.

You love him. So of course you will always take care of him.

"Well… like I said," he sighs, but takes the two of you in with a wing-hug, "it's just boring work stuff. But with the whole uproar in Canterlot, everypony seems to think that…"

And so, he begins to talk, and you and your daughter just stay there listening to him. It isn't anything major, in the end, just the piling up of small problems, the constant addition of those little unreasonable things that might happen when he is away from home. Just the coupling of several little unfair situations, one after the other.

So you can see why he was resistant about letting it show, you can see why he didn't think that sort of thing was even supposed to bother him. But you know he is wrong in thinking that way.

You know that it's the small things that eventually smother you, that it's the small problems of life that slowly creep up behind you, until you are surrounded and drowning in them.

So, it makes you honestly glad that you can be there for your family to help them with these small things, much like how they are always there for you.

And after you are all done eating, you head back home, your daughter practically dragging her father by the neck when you get close to the door, not wanting to wait any longer to show him the present that she asked you to buy for him.





You have completely recovered from the stress caused by the Ritual's experience.

Having spent a good amount of time with your family, after acting only in a slightly strange manner as of late, your family and close servants are completely unsuspicious of you, currently.









Stallions sure are a hooffull, you idly think to yourself.

They sometimes can be extremely simple creatures, of course, but it is precisely due to their simplicity that they are sometimes hard to maneuver around.

You have years of experience with your husband, and the fact that he had been completely smitten with you from the very first day you were introduced to each other helps a lot, so he doesn't exactly count. In fact, you think as you recall the first few weeks of your arranged relationship, it was him who practically put his heart out to get you interested in him…

But regardless, although most stallions can be easy to read and understand, the simplicity of their single-mindedness also makes it hard to get them to soften up. Sure, most of them react well enough when you are charming or something like that, but when those few and straightforward doors aren't available you are usually left with a brick wall that won't budge, no matter how hard you bang your head against it.

And you can think of one such stallion, also coincidentally a pegasus, who has been worrying you as of late. Of course, you could technically disregard your worries and see him as no more than a work acquaintance. But in your personal opinion that is not really an option anymore, not after what you all saw in Princess Luna's dreams.

You can no longer see the cult as a mere pastime, or an intriguing avocation. No, the six of you are all in this together now, and although you honestly do not comprehend your Master well enough to have a final opinion on him, you realize that he is at least as invested in this as you all are. Probably a lot more, in fact.

You might not be able to get a read on your Master, at least not yet, as you are not even sure if he is a pony to begin with. However, you most definitely can get a read on Comet Feet.

Something about him, several things in fact, have been worrying you, and you have been acting upon said worries, as much as he strikes you as the kind of stallion that is especially hard to get close to.

To this end, you have been leaving a few marks and signs on the dark trees of the Woods, scribbled messages in the spots your Master has taught the cult to look for, places where thoughts and visions can linger for more than a single night, although they always turn to dust at the end of every moon cycle.

You have not been the only one either. Several trees were already marked, the signs that more of the recently induced have found their way into the Woods, the telltale hints of increased coordination and of the execution of more subtle actions. But you, for your part, left messages specifically for Comet Feet, and hoped he would deign to answer them.

And much to your surprise, just last night he did so.

Maybe it is paranoia, maybe it is just how his mind works, or maybe it is just a coincidence, but last night was the very last night of the lunar cycle, and you found his message during that small frame of time in which it would not last for more than a few hours as the first sunrise of the next cycle fast approached.

But regardless, he answered you, and carved on the black bark of that tree the instructions of where to find him. You set out on the morning of the next day, not wanting to lose the opportunity. He has wings, after all, and instructions to "stay away from town", so relocating every few days is certainly not beyond him.

You left your estate at first light. Your husband's birthday was a few days ago, and he is out of town again, but you left a note for Ponpon saying that your usual walk would take more time than usual.

You crossed the town, heading to the south-eastern road, the one next to the bank of the river that cuts off the Everfree Forest.

You headed onwards, as the houses that were farther from Ponyville became scarcer, and the looming forest, far as it may be, seemed just a little bit darker.

You passed by a small wooden cottage that seemed to have grown out from the ground, or at least that's what it looked like with its roof being literally covered in the outgrowth of plants and leaves. You saw a good number of critters nearby it, eating from bowls with fresh vegetables that looked like they had been recently placed. Whoever lives there sure looked like somepony who cares about the local wildlife… or who is simply too disconnected from actual society to be bothered about living so far from the city itself.

But you passed by even that small cottage, and went further away from Ponyville.

Your leg had already starting to ache for a while when you finally reach it.

It is a… place, that is for sure. You went out of the road after passing by the hollowed-out tree, you followed the nearly forgotten dirt path, you did everything the carved instructions told you to, although it was somewhat spooky for most of the time.

And you finally arrive at a… place. You are standing in front of an abandoned shack, its rotting wooden roof barely held by rain-punished walls, a single glass window with a broken hole in it gazing back at you like the empty socket of a dead skull.

You are sure that, normally, you would be feeling frightened about being here. But the messages left in the Woods are not only lines of carved text. The trees also remember bits and pieces of thoughts and visions, they shear away at your memory for every small chip you carve in their hardened barks. Walking here was almost like walking to a place you had visited when you were maybe a filly, the distant memories imprinted by Comet Feet lending themselves to you during every hoofstep of the way.

The place looks abandoned, and glancing up you can see that it is totally covered by the surrounding trees, with leaves and vines obscuring it from the aerial view of anypony who might fly over it. You also realize that you had your eyes closed for a while now, and a quick peek reveals that the wooden shack is almost completely untouched by sunlight.

You close your eyes again, for good measure, and take a quick look around the shack.

At first you think it is an abandoned woodcutter's lodge, since several of the trees that surround the shack seem to have been recently cut. However, you quickly realize that is not the case as you notice a few more things.

You quickly realize that these are signs of training.

You don't see a single tree that has been totally cut down, all of them had been struck, by something sharp you might add, but none of them had been felled as if sawed down for wood. The marks you see on these trees have been made with finesse, with something that you don't quite believe was an axe, but that you are not knowledgeable enough to precisely pin down.

Then you see trees that have been physically punished. You don't have any better words for it, seeing that these are trees with legitimate craters on their trunks. Some of those craters are shallow, or are simple cracks against the woods, but some are deep and speak of a terrible strength, the mark of a horseshoe clearly visible as if purposefully carved by a powerful hindleg kick.

And then you notice… other trees… You don't feel like looking at them, much less approaching them, but those trees seemed to have been…

You see markings that could only have been made by teeth or claws, deep and frantic gouges all over their surface serving as evidence that nothing but mindless hatred had been unleashed upon them. You avert your eyes before you start connecting the dots. There is a lesson here, but you have not come to learn about this, specifically, so you turn your closed eyes towards the forgotten building once again.

And then you realize Comet Feet has been looking at you this whole time, from where he is crouching down on top of the rotting shack.

"Velvet Covers…" you hear his voice, deep and clear, as he lightly jumps from the precarious roof and lands next to you, "were you followed?"

You can't quite place if he is in a bad mood, or if this is simply his usual disposition.

"Not that I know of," you reply politely, to which he simply nods.

You take another look at him, and you realize you never really appreciated how large the pegasus is.

He is built like you would expect an earth pony to be built, a large earth pony that is. He is a full head taller than you are, horn included, and you are pretty sure that your two forelegs put together wouldn't amount to a single one of his. His coat is dark, not exactly black but of some particular color taken to the extreme side of dark, maybe some deep dark green or the likes. His mane, however, cut short probably for practical reasons, is raven black.

He is also… sharp, so to speak. You don't feel an Influence about him, to which you are thankful as it would have made talking somewhat harder, but you can feel the Edge about him. Comet Feet must truly be dedicating himself to pursuing it.

"Why are your eyes closed?" he remarks, his head turning quizzically as he inspects you with the same scrutiny you are inspecting him.

You chide yourself mentally for it, this is really something you must start being mindful about, and open your eyes, the clear image of the Pegasus turning into a badly illuminated version of himself.

"Pardon, but they weren't exactly useful in this darkness to begin with, were they?" you answer with a pleasant smile.

The stallion shrugs, and walks deeper into the forest, towards the patches where the trees are still unmarred and untouched. You take his reaction as an invitation to follow him.

"Well, here you are," he says as he walks in front of you, "you were insistent enough. What is it that you want?"

That is the question that you had been practicing how to answer for a while now. Most of your scenarios would have you simply playing it by ear, of course, but you did anticipate that Comet Feet might just be as direct as he is being right now.

However, you also recall that those were not the scenarios you had been hoping would unfurl.

"Well," you pick your words carefully, knowing that you should use preciously few of them to get a point across, "I was honestly wondering if you would like to discuss about what we saw on the Ritual…?" you look at his back while you speak, trying to fish for some sort of reaction that you could latch on to, "it was after all, quite the… experience."

"I saw the same thing you all saw," he answers simply, approaching one of the trees and passing a hoof over its trunk, taking a deep breath and pulling his hoof back.

Before you can even think to reply you hear a loud cracking noise, followed by the sound of frightened birds flying away in the distance. You close your eyes to make sure of what just happened, and you see that Comet Feet's hoof is now resting on a small crater on the surface of the tree.

He still seems composed, however, if only a little disinterested. You think about your options and try again.

"Yes, of course. But I was wondering how exactly… do you think we should go about with dealing with it? Since Master told you to stay away from town, I couldn't help but wonder if you had time to give it some deep thought and…"

You hear him sigh, but you can't be sure if it is just a deep breath or a sign of something worse.

He moves his foreleg for a few moments, and you only realize his hoof was stuck on the tree when he forces it out, the clear sign of a horseshoe imprinted on it.

Then he turns to you, and you realize his sigh meant he is rather annoyed.

"Look, I know that I've been sent here while things are happening, but that doesn't mean I'm doing nothing. And if you are here to pester me with ideas like Windy Flakes did, then I'll let you know that I'll just give you the same answer."

Your mind jumps to full gear as you try to take all of it at once. Did he think you meant he was just idling about while everypony else worked, and took offense in it? Would trying to apologize have any effect? And what about Windy Flakes being here as well, and what the hell did the unicorn tried talking to him about?

And most importantly, you can finally see a hint of… something in Comet Feet's eyes. It looks too much like confliction and doubt, but it could very well be annoyance or anger.

You've been quiet for too long now. Less than five second, sure, but you can identify a closing window when you see one, especially in a conversation.

"I promise you I didn't come to pester you about anything," you quickly say, trying to be as diplomatic as possible.

But you still have no idea of what direction to go, and you only brought yourself precious few seconds to think.

Heavens be damned, you decide to address your worries. If nothing else, you at least hope that honesty works here.

"It's just that... I personally am not sure of what to think, about the whole thing…" honesty, sure, but no need to be straightforward about it. Maybe he will open up if he identifies himself in your own worries, "I mean, I know I have to do something. We have to do something, but what direction should we aim for? I trust the Master as much as anypony else, but how far do you think we will have to go on this road?"

You see something flicker in his eyes, a change in his expression, but having your eyes open means you can't tell for sure with so many shadows covering the two of you.

You decide to press on, and hope for the best.

"Is there a line that perhaps we shouldn't cross, or-?"

"I think," you see his brow twitch at that, and he interrupts you with his deep voice, "that we should all be focusing on our tasks, instead of idling about into other ponies' businesses," he says, making himself very clear, before his expression closes once again and he turns his back to you, pointedly focusing his attention on the recently struck tree.

You saw it, you know you did. You hit a nerve that you shouldn't have, or maybe you struck a particular chord too strongly.

But there is a nerve to be struck to begin with, and you can clearly see that something is deeply bothering the stallion. You were right in your worries, but for today you seem to have hit a wall.

And from his reaction, you realize that you have nothing else to gain here right now, only to lose. Comet Feet is by no means threatening you, of course, but you can see that he will be as resistant to your questions as the trees before him will be to his hoofs.

But he is also a pony like yourself, and you know that he will eventually calm down, or that time will at least allow you for another chance in the future. So, you take your leave.



[To catch a Comet, breakpoints 50/80]

[Roll: 24 + 11 (Diplomacy) + 5 (GRAIL bonus) = 40]

[Wrong question.]





You were not persuasive enough for Comet Feet to open himself to you, but you did manage to understand him a little better. He is clearly conflicted about something, although he did not tell you what.

You have also learned that Windy Flakes has been paying him visits. Something about pestering him with ideas?
> Turn 5 - Results, part 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Starry Dancer doesn't seem to be the kind of mare that likes being subtle. You have been tempted to believe that she doesn't even know how to be subtle to begin with, but she has been hanging on to her position as Mayor Mare's assistant without any problems, so you discarded that thought some time ago.

Unless… she has been so honest and earnest about actually doing her town-hall related tasks that she really believes her job is being the Mayor's assistant. That is highly possible, now that you think about it, and that reversal of roles between "means" and "ends" seems to suit the mare down to a "t".

Well, regardless of Starry being capable of any sort of subtlety or not, you have decided to answer her in kind, and not be roundabout in your intentions. Starry Dancer has been clearly affected by what you saw in Princess Luna's dreams and you are worried about her, so you will check on her to see if everything is all right.

You don a dress which you believe will be sufficiently good at not drawing attention, and you head out of your room towards the stair.

When you hear a somewhat heated exchange coming from the main hall.

"Miss, for the last time," you hear Ponpon, her usually calm voice very much not calm right now, talking to somepony else, "I cannot let you in unannounced like that. And we have walls for a reason, so please fly your way out of the front door and wait by the gate!"

She seems to be… discussing with someone by the door?

"But I got a letter from her, she told me she would meet me in a few minutes!"

You also recognize that second voice, and you rush your way down the long staircase to get a better look at what is happening.

"Then where is that letter?" Ponpon answers, the annoyance in her voice making it clear that she has repeated this question at least five times.

"I told you, I forgot it and-"

"Starry Dancer? Is that you?" you finally arrive at the main hall, and you can see the pink hoofs of somepony who is almost trying to force their way in, while Ponpon struggles to keep the door shut.

"Velvet!" the pony in question, who you can see is definitely Starry Dancer, lets out a happy yelp. Coupled with that, the last push she did, probably motivated by her surprise, caused Ponpon to give in on holding the door, and the pink pegasus nearly barged through it as it was suddenly opened, falling face first on the floor right after.

"Ma'am, do you know this…?" Ponpon looks at you quizzically, and then at the pink pegasus on the ground.

"Velvet! I got your letter!" but the mare jumps back up with a flap of her wings before your maid can even finish her sentence. "Did I get here too soon? I was worried I'd miss the hour like last time, so I made sure to get here extra soon!"

You nod to Ponpon, and wave a hoof at her to indicate that you would take it from here. Ponpon, for her part, merely shoots another strange look at the pegasus, and makes her way out of the hall while shaking her head.

"So, what do you wanna talk about?" she asks.

To which you answer by almost biting your lips, but years of etiquette stop you at the last moment. Instead, you merely give her a… smile, which you hope doesn't look as uncomfortable as you actually feel.

"Starry… well, you are here then," you quickly regroup your wits, "but did you even read the letter I sent you?"

"I did, of course."

"And didn't I say I would meet you at the Town Hall, and for you to just make yourself free this afternoon, if possible?"

The mare nods, causing you to forcibly suppress a facehoof.

"And… whatever did you tell Mayor Mare you would be doing this afternoon then, since you are here?"

"Oh, I just told her your letter was asking me to sort something out relating to the earth pony farmers."

Well then, she is at least capable of telling a lie… of sorts. "Of sorts" because you really have been sending some reports to the Town Hall, to have them signed by Starry, but nothing really time consuming.

And at least her visit here "at your behest" will help with the whole narrative that you made up for Mayor Mare…

"Well then… why don't you follow me then?" you look around, seeing the empty main hall, but knowing just how far your voice can reach from here, "why don't we go talk somewhere more private?"





It takes you a few moments to realize what had happened, in the end. But when you think about it in absolute facts, Starry Dancer literally landed on your estate's garden, completely ignoring the common courtesy that pegasi have of using doors and respecting walls, and now…

Well, now she is sitting next to you at your balcony, looking down at your farmlands, after having effectively barged into your house without any previous warning.

Maybe that is her charm after all, her ability to squeeze herself into other ponies' lives like that. Maybe that is the Heart in her.

But as Ponpon leaves the two of you, with a recently laid out set of tea in the small table, you are finally alone with Starry Dancer. Now you can finally lay down some issues that have been bothering you.

"So, Starry," you start, clopping your hoofs together. Indirect approaches definitely don't seem to work on the mare, so maybe…? "How have you been?"

She tilts her head towards you, going for her own cup of tea. You notice idly that she is not picking it with her wings, as you have seen Soft Sweeps do.

You also notice that she very poorly suppresses a grimace as she takes a sip, right before quickly putting her teacup back on the saucer. You eye the bowl of sugar cubes that are right next to her, and wonder if she knows that they aren't there for show.

"I'm fine," she says, still struggling with her grimace, "why do you ask?"

You look at her face while she answers, and you can see that she is… not exactly lying, but she is not telling the truth either. You don't see the smile that you think would usually accompany her words, you don't see the gleam in her eyes that should be there.

But maybe you are facing this whole situation from the wrong perspective, you are still trying to read too much into her.

"Fine fine? Or just fine?" you ask, trying to tone down on your words. Less casting of wide nets, less double purposes. More meaning.

"Just fine…" the mare says, reclining against her cushioned seat.

Ah, there it is. You were starting to think that what you were seeing were the signs that Starry Dancer was lying to herself, some disturbance borne from the attempt of keeping up a false bravado of optimism. Maybe even one that she might have been fostering ever since the end of your last reunion, after the talk the three of you had with her.

But no. It was nothing complicated, and it was nothing even as simple as that. Starry Dancer, you think you finally understand, is a mare who wears her feelings on her sleeves. You definitely won't pity her for that, neither will you look down on her for it, but you surely don't envy her either.

However, you think as you float some sugar cubes into her cup of tea, this doesn't mean that you will simply let her fend for herself after all.

She sees the teacup, now properly sweetened, float towards her with a surprised expression, and you let out a sigh as she seems to realize that the solution to that particular problem was in fact quite simple.

"Why just fine then?" you ask, sipping from your own tea, "that sounds like having a lot going on in your mind."

She seems to ponder for a few moments, but not in a way that she is picking her words. Starry Dancer seems to be thinking more like she is trying to remember everything that is going on in her mind, so as to be able to list them.

Definitely the extreme of straightforward, you think. She doesn't have the mind of a filly, she is a grown and mature mare all right, and she isn't exactly innocent either. But you can tell that she… well, that she has that particular trait for living her life.

"Well, I have no idea why I have been picked for the Inner Circle, for starters," she starts talking, looking towards the horizon without really focusing on it, "everypony else seems so competent. I mean, I would never have gotten half as close to the mayor if it wasn't for you."

You nod at that, although you hope she knows that it is more in an encouraging way than in some sort of presumptuous agreement. But after a few moments you realize she doesn't have anything else to add for now.

"You are being quite competent in keeping your position, though. Mayor Mare doesn't strike me as a pony who would trust just anypony with helping her, and yet here you are," you see her smile a bit at that, maybe in a somewhat shy manner.

"Maybe… but there's all the other things as well and…" she stops for a moment, but not to sip from her tea, "I mean, the things we saw… well, I'm terrified, to be honest. I'm scared that I'm not even having nightmares about it, because I feel that I should, but I'm also scared that having nightmares about it would mean that one of those things managed to…" she doesn't finish the sentence, instead pointing a hoof towards her head, waving it in a wiggly motion of sorts.

And that is more than enough for you to understand what she means.

"And I'm scared of what might come next, on how we might even begin to…" she stops again, this time for a little while.

But you can see that something is still on her mind, so you make sure not to interrupt her thoughts. She sits there quietly for a few more moments before taking a deep breath and asking.

"Say, how was the first time you met the Master?" she asks out of the blue.

You wonder where that came from, but you think you can see where her thoughts took her, so you answer her honestly.

"It was during a cult meeting, the very first one I ever attended, in fact," you try remembering the details about it, but as usual the thing that you now know to be the Woods makes your memories a little bit fuzzy, "I just heard their voice, of course, but I can't really say much about that night apart from that."

She nods at that, and you calmly wait for the answer that you know will soon come.

"Mine was in the Woods, way back when Copper first introduced me into it," she starts talking after what must have been a full minute, "introduced me into the cult, that is, although I still have no idea how I made it past the crossroads by myself…"

She seems to be reminiscing.

You let her.

"But I was lost in the Woods, having arrived there after who knows how many tries… My mane got a lot shorter, mind you. But there I was, wandering, when… well, when a puppet appears in front of me."

"A puppet?" you raise an eyebrow. That was surely not what you were expecting.

"Yes, a pony-sized puppet made of wood, strings attached to it and all," she laughs, both at your reaction and at the memory, "and it started to dance."

"It… started dancing?" you repeat, slightly incredulous.

"Yes. And I don't know if it was the Woods, or if it was because I was on that sleepy-mindlessness, or if it was just on a spur, but I started imitating its dance, and well…" she starts stepping her hoofs against the wooden table, lightly, in a rhythm that seems strangely familiar to you.

But she is not even looking at her hoofs while she does that, to the point where you wonder if she is even doing it consciously.

"I talk to the Master a lot," she continues, her eyes still locked in her memories instead of anywhere physical. "There's this place right outside the Woods where there's this… big temple of sorts, and I always feel better when I wake up, if I visit that place. But sometimes when I go there, I find the Master looking at it from the shadows, and we talk a lot whenever we meet there, about all sorts of things… I always wake up feeling better after…"

She stops talking, but you honestly wish she hadn't. You trust her enough to believe that she is telling you the truth, but it still feels like she is talking about a completely different entity from the one you know, with all this story about puppets and… and talking.

"What I mean is, I know how everypony seems to think that the Master is somewhat spooky, I hear it from the other members after some of the cult meetings. But I really think his intentions are in the right place, and… well, I'm worried that he seems to be worried," she fumbles a bit with her words, as if unsure of how to express herself, "I'm worried that maybe he was also affected by what we saw, or that he also feels bad about the… aftermath of it, in Canterlot… and I haven't found him in the Woods, not ever since our last meeting."

You nod, slowly, part of your mind wanting to go full throttle with everything you just heard from her, as there is a lot of things that you wish you could ask her to be a little more specific about. But you wrestle that part of your mind back down, knowing that your current, and rather simplistic, mindset is required for what you will try to convey next.

"Well Starry, I really had no idea about that, and I'll admit I also sometimes think the Master is… strange. But I hope that he isn't the only one you trust in the cult," you say, struggling for a few moments with the word "one", since the term "pony" tried to jut itself through you lips a few times.

"Of course I trust the rest of you, its just that…"

"And that's what I mean," you cut her off in the middle of her hesitation, "that's what we meant when we told you we are all in this together. I realize that the Master seems a bit… off right now, but we can't just walk in circles while panicking because of it."

She seems to cringe a bit at that. Good, at least she understands that that's exactly what you think she is doing, although you hope you are not being too harsh to her.

"I say you can trust us in the sense that you can fall back to us if anything comes up," you eye her mane inquisitively, seeing several badly cut parts of it that corroborate to your suspicions, "just how often have you been going to that place in the Woods looking for the Master anyways?"

She cringes even more, slightly curling herself in her cushion, and trying to hide part of her mane with a hoof.

"A few…"

You sigh at that, but you mellow down your tone a little bit.

You are indeed being too harsh with her. She did say she was terrified of what she saw in the Princess' dreams, after all, so it was you who should have realized that she really meant it when she used that word.

"Here Starry," you say, floating her empty teacup from her hoofs and filling it again, "I know the Master probably has a better idea of what to do then us, but that doesn't mean we can't help you with the little things."

You make a point of putting the sugar cubes while you talk, and slowly stirring her teacup while at it.

"So you don't need to rely on him for every small thing, or you will just feel lost the day he is not there waiting in the shadows of the Woods," you then float the teacup towards her, which she meekly accepts again, "but hey, we are much easier to find then the Master, don't you think? So try relying on us more often," you finish with a smile.

Starry Dancer looks at the teacup for a few more moments, then at you and your smile, and her fearful expression slowly, slowly, turns into something less scared, and more Starry Dancer-y. Even if only slightly.

And you give yourself a satisfied nod at that. It might not have been exactly what you were hoping for, but you believe this will be as much encouragement you will be able to give the mare today.

"So you mean to tell me that you met the Master for the first time with him giving you a puppet show?" you ask suddenly, causing her to stifle a laughter.

And then she starts telling you about it in more details.





You watch her fly away, a pink dot heading towards the buildings of Ponyville. She did not have the common courtesy of letting you take her to the door, of course, she basically said her goodbyes and jutted upwards with her wings.

Honestly, even Silky knows that's bad manners…

But regardless, you mull over a few things that she talked to you about.

You can see that Starry Dancer left better than she arrived, that's for sure, and from her somewhat relaxed demeanor after your chat you think that she will get over the whole Ritual experience soon enough.

But the parts of the conversation where she talked about the Master… those made little sense to you, and you are not sure how you feel about it.

However, you will have to think about it later. This whole visit took a lot more of your time than you expected, and you would very much like to get your other errands done before your daughter arrives home from school.



[The rhythm of the dancer, breakpoints 30/60/90/120]

[Roll: 49 + 11 (Diplomacy) + 5 (GRAIL bonus) = 65]





Starry Dancer is now feeling better about the Ritual, and understands that the members of the Inner Circle will be there for her if needed, or at least that you will for sure.
> Turn 5 - Results, part 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"A final turn to the left and… the fourth house after the tree carved with a heart?"

These certainly are curious instructions, especially since mentioning the street and the number of her address would have been more than enough, but you follow them anyways.

You have been thinking about meeting Jade Whistle to talk to her. Your official excuse would be that you wanted to know how her studies for the ritual are going, since heaven knows how much work it must be to devise a new ritual from scratch, but you are actually more interested in getting to know her better. Especially because of her curious reaction, even if it was only with a single phrase, after the last cult meeting.

Was she trying to console Starry Dancer? Was that simply her outlook in life? Was she as shaken as the pegasus, as shaken as you all were, but simply managed to hide it better? These were things you were planning to find out, or at least try to.

So how surprised you were when, before you even tried reaching out to her, you instead received a letter from the mare inviting you to her home.

"This certainly must be that tree…" you look at the large tree, one of the many that usually dots the streets in Ponyville, and see that it is indeed carved with a small heart, two cutie marks also scraped within it.

You wonder how long ago that was carved. You wonder if those two ponies are still together.

They probably are.

You continue walking, counting the houses you pass by until you reach the fourth and… wait, is this really the place?

You arrive before a… well, you first retrace your steps and make absolute sure that this is the fourth house. But after said checks are finished, you once again arrive before a particularly shabby house. You don't mean to be rude, and you most certainly don't think like that because you were raised a noble, but the place certainly is… unkept.

Houses in Ponyville are usually brightly painted, and even the least adorned among them will have dozens of small signs that tell this and that about their residents. You have been to a bakery that is shaped like an actual cake, and you have already passed by a house that you swear had chimneys shaped like the pipes of some musical instrument, perhaps an organ or something else.

But even the houses that aren't as personalized as those will have smaller details on them, even if it is just a simple garden and some potted plants, or perhaps a wooden workshop or the likes.

However, the house that you see in front of you does not even have that much… less so, in fact. Its once bright paint is clearly worn, you see a few signs of cracks here and there, although they are tiny, and even the grass around it is slightly overgrown and unkept. Jade Whistle is an earth pony, and the very plants around an earth pony's house tends to behave better than not, so that small detail also seems out of place.

The windows, also, seem spent, and you can see that the curtains behind them are closed shut. You look up, at the sun that is well on its way to the highest point of the sky, and let out a soft "Huh…" at that.

But this is most certainly the place where her letter told you to go, so you knock on the door and wait for an answer.

And you wait… for a considerably long time.

"Jade? Jade Whistle?" you knock again, this time more insistently, not in an annoyed or impatient manner, but you are quickly starting to wonder if you have taken a wrong turn somewhere. You hope not, because the letter wasn't exactly short when it came to the instructions.

You keep knocking on the door, wondering if you should put an ear against it to check if there is any sound coming from the inside.

Until finally the door opens, only a slight crack that is, but you can see somepony looking at you.

"Velvet Covers?" you hear a voice coming from the inside, its tone too closed to that of a tired droning, followed by a… a yawn?

The door finally opens, revealing the mare herself, her grey mane clearly unkept and the fur of her light blue coat slightly ruffled.

Did she just wake up?

"Did you just wake up?" you let your thoughts out almost involuntarily before you can stop them.

But the mare simply looks at you and nods as an answer, her expression almost the same as the one she usually wears, with the slight difference that her eyes are slightly more closed than usual.

The two of you stand there, staring at each other for a while, until she shakes her head an looks at you with a little more attention.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, although she sounds like she isn't really interested in the answer.

"You… invited me over?" you say, starting to feel somewhat awkward, but you float the letter she wrote you in her direction, which she grabs and slowly reads.

"Oh…" she says, as if she were talking to herself, "so sending this wasn't a dream…"

You suppress the urge tilt your head at that, and calmly wait as the mare looks behind her, probably looking at something inside her house, before she turns back in your direction.

"I wasn't really expecting you here for a few more days, so my house isn't exactly presentable, but…" she fully opens the door and turns her back to you, walking away from you with a yawn, "you can come in," she finishes, her voice still coming out somewhat drowsy.

The door leads to a small corridor, and Jade Whistle disappears after turning a corner that leads somewhere, leaving you alone in front of her open door.

Your self-control fails for a moment, and your face turns into a confused version of itself, your head tilting slightly as you try to understand what had just happened. But you quickly recompose yourself and take a deep breath.

You neither see nor hear any further signs of the mare, and the small corridor is still silently waiting for you, so you take that as an invitation for you to go in. She did say you could, after all.

You step into Jade Whistle's house, closing the door behind you, and turn in the direction that you saw she went to.

And once you turn around that corner, you must admit that you are somewhat… surprised at what you see.

Or rather, at what you don't see, after all her house is extremely dark.

Well, perhaps "dark" is not the correct term, but it is very badly illuminated and your eyes take a good few moment to adjust to it. You see no candles, and the ceiling-lanterns don't look like they have been used in ages. The only light you see is the one coming from the windows, and that is only because their curtains are old and worn to the point where they are thin, with a few small holes dotting them here and there. That much light, however, is only enough for somepony to be able to vaguely discern what colors everything was supposed to be, at best. Like how a place might be during the very end of the sunset, or perhaps under a slightly clouded moon.

This place is the kind of shady-dark that is enough for a pony to walk around just fine, and have a good guess of what and where everything is. But it is certainly not bright enough for somepony to live here, not comfortably at least.

You can see that you are in some kind of living room, with a few cushioned sofas and an old fireplace, but you still close your eyes every now and then as you walk through it, just to make sure that you don't stumble on anything.

"Over here" you hear Jade's voice coming from the other end of the room, followed by the sound of a match being struck.

Her voice came from beyond a slightly open door, and you see the light of a recently lit candle casting a shadow against the ground, so you head that way.

"You can sit there," she says as you enter the reasonably large (and unreasonably dark) study room, pointing towards a chair.

"Thank you," you answer her, heading towards the chair. Although the mare doesn't seem to acknowledge that you said anything.

You awkwardly look at her, wondering if you should say anything else, but she seems to be focused on making sure that the candle is properly sitting upright. She also has her back to you, so you are not sure if you should interrupt her either.

"Like I said," she finally speaks again, turning her head in your direction, "I wasn't expecting you for a few more days, so I don't really have anything ready right now." You dearly wonder what she means by "ready", but you keep a polite smile by your face, "I'll go get something for us to drink."

And with that she slowly walks out of the study room, leaving you alone. Again.

You take a deep breath, trying to focus yourself. You wish you could chide yourself for not saying anything, or for not attempting to start a conversation, or for not doing anything else other than simply following the mare here. But you honestly can't think of how you could have done anything else.

You saw no hints on Jade Whistle's body language, you aren't even sure if she is giving you any hints or social cues of any kind. You honestly can't even tell if there were any cues to begin with.

And on the topic of you starting a conversation yourself, what were you supposed to say? "Thanks for having me here, and wow your house is really old"? That surely is not how you hope things will go.

You let out a frustrated sigh, taking care that it is not loud enough for her to hear it from… wherever she is. But you think you hear a few clanking sounds in the distance, so she must be in her kitchen getting something for the two of you, as she said she would.

But what to do… what to do…? You look around while clopping your hoofs together, thinking of what your next step should be. You certainly have the impression that you ought to do something. You don't think the mare was gently telling you to leave when she told you she was not ready for you to visit her, but you certainly don't think she will take the first step at anything conversation-wise.

Or is she telling you to leave? Good heavens Velvet, you are supposed to be good at this sort of thing!

You look around you, trying to take in the study room where you are. Maybe something here will help you get a better read on the mare?



[A thousand shadows around the candle's flame, breakpoints 20/40/60/80/100]

[Roll: 71 + 12 (Intrigue) = 83]



And you notice several small things.

The study room is filled with all sorts of objects. Curios and souvenirs, small trinkets and tokens that seem to have come from all kinds of places and cultures. This study room reminds you somewhat of Baldomare's living room, with the number of little things and details everywhere you look. But where Baldomare's lodge seemed to display fond memories next to a roaring fireplace, and was heavy with loving reminiscences and history, this place you are in right now feels like it is… empty, despite the many small objects everywhere you look.

The sheer quantity of things seems to cast shadows everywhere, in fact, even with such a small candle illuminating all of it, and for some reason that makes you feel something heavy in your chest. But strange sensation or not, you close your eyes to take a better look.

And a few other things become immediately clear.

First of all, you see that her house is extremely unkept. And again, this is not your noble upbringing saying anything, this is your clear observation. Seeing the house from the outside, and its neglected structure, is one thing, but as you look around you can't help but notice that the same amount of care (or lack of thereof) is given to the inside of her home as well.

There are spiderwebs everywhere, on every corner of the ceiling, and even near some of the trinkets that are further away from a normal pony's reach. There are several cabinets near the walls and next to the wooden table on the other side of the room, but you can see a thin layer of dust over many of the books, especially those that are higher up on the cabinets. You wonder how long it has been since this place was used for its intended purpose.

However… you can also see the signs of a recent cleaning, or at least of a recent attempt at cleaning things. This time you are indeed drawing from your experience as a noble, as you can see the several small markings that somepony has done a very sloppy once-over on part of the room, or that you are in the middle of a very slow attempt at cleaning everything.

You can see that the dust on the floor has been mopped away, but with signs that those efforts were done starting from the door, and curiously stopped at the spot where you are sitting on your chair. You see that most of the small trinkets that dot the cabinets have been dusted off, especially those that can be more easily reached by somepony around Jade's height. That and several other little things tell you that some effort has been put into making the whole place more presentable.

Maybe she did mean it when she said she wasn't expecting you for a few more days… maybe this is what she meant by it? You are not sure if you are somewhat flattered that Jade Whistle actually made some sort of effort to have her place cleaned, or if you are worried over the fact that she… doesn't really seem to care much about her own house otherwise.

You hear the faint hiss of steam coming from a few rooms away. Jade Whistle must be doing tea, you think, and that sound probably means that it won't be long until she returns.

You look around, with more attention now, looking for more subtle hints, for more things that you might have missed with a quick glance.

You try to blink your eyes, but you remember that they are already closed to begin with. You wonder for a few seconds as to why you would have wanted to blink to begin with, until you realize that the candle's light is actually a bit too bright, almost to the point where it is slightly uncomfortable. You open your eyes, surprised at that, and take a better look at the candle itself.

And you recognize the candle. It is the same candle that was left behind by your Master after the end of the ritual into Princess Luna's dreams, the one with a slight tinge of Lantern to it. You see that the candle is not rightly burning or melting the wax of its body, and that confirms your suspicion.

Curious that Jade Whistle would have held on to it. Of course the thing is precious, or at least Mansus-touched, but after what you saw on the ritual it didn't even cross your mind to reach for the candle after everypony had left. By all rights, everypony was so shocked that this artifact should have been discovered by Windy Flakes, days later as he finished his business on his underground storage.

You look around at the study room once again, but what about the other trinkets? You doubt any of them are Mansus-touched, they all seem too common and mundane, but why then does she hold on to them? The more you look around, the more this study room seems like an old and forgotten museum, but why is it like this?

Maybe, you think, the idea striking you suddenly and without warning, these trinkets are not hers to begin with. Maybe this whole study room isn't hers.

You think back to the impression that you feel like you are in a museum. Maybe this whole house isn't hers to begin with. It might belong to her, but it might not actually be hers.

You click your tongue, realizing something that should have been obvious from the start. You passed by a living room with a fireplace and several sofas, you are in a study room and there are at least three chairs in it, yours, hers and the one covered in dust next to the desk on the opposite end.

The house itself is two-storied. The stairs to the second floor must be somewhere else you haven't passed by, but the more you think about it the more you realize how large the place is. Not unusually large by Ponyville standards, but definitely not a place a mare would be living alone either, and you are certain nopony else lives here with her.

The more you think about it, the more you realize how empty this place is. This place feels very lonely, you realize, and an idea of sorts slowly starts to piece itself together in your head.

A chill runs down your spine, and you think you feel a faint echo of Winter in the air.

You hear a few more clanks coming from where you believe is the kitchen, followed by the sound of Jade Whistle's hoofsteps. You shift your mind into a more frantic gear as you keep looking around you.

Something still feels wrong, you feel like you are missing something or that perhaps something is missing from this place, and you know that whatever it is, it's the piece that you are lacking for the puzzle.

The mare's hoofsteps are nearly on the door when you finally realize what that thing is.

You finally realize that you see no pictures. This is a study room, and perhaps a personal office of sorts, and although you know that it might not be a practice everypony has, the sheer quantity of souvenirs and small things around you suggests that the owner of this place liked to remember things. You have a few pictures of your family in your own office, and something in you tells that there should at least be a few dozens of them in here by the look of things.

And once you realize it, you notice them. You see several small gaps in the cabinets, between certain objects, where a picture might have fit. You notice the tiny holes in the walls, where a nail might have once stood and a photo frame might have been displayed from.

No, that isn't exactly right, if you are being honest. You only realized that there are pictures missing because so far you have only seen a single one. You see the small corner of its frame, high up on a cabinet by the door, forgotten behind several other trinkets almost as if it had been purposefully hidden there.

You almost missed it. In fact, you would have missed it if not for the reflected glint of the candlelight on its metallic frame. You spy at the picture, far as it may be, and something tells you that it must be the only picture that exists in this room. Or perhaps in the entirety of the house.

Although you have no idea, then, why it is hidden away in that spot.

"Here," Jade Whistle returns, carrying a set of tea with two cups, fresh steam coming out of it.

She leaves it on a less-occupied cabinet, near her own reach, and sits down on the other chair. You know it is good manners to put this sort of thing near your guests, so they can reach it with their hoofs, but you take the cue anyways and float one of the cups towards you.

You sip from it. It's not bad, but you have the impression that Jade Whistle doesn't know the first thing about brewing tea. You are struck by the sudden thought that perhaps this is the first time she has ever tried doing it, but you are not sure where that idea came from.

She calmly drinks from her tea, with her eyes closed, which reminds you to double check that yours are open.

But apart from that, she remains silent.

And you are honestly, for your part, not sure of what to say. You have thought about several things to discuss with Jade Whistle while on your way here, several ways that you could have started, guided or ended a conversation, but none of them really seem adequate right now.

This place… this room, this house, Jade Whistle herself, it all just feels too… heavy.

She opens her eyes after what must have been more than a minute, and looks at you with her usual uninterested expression.

"Maybe calling you here was a mistake," she says suddenly, although with a tone as neutral as one she might have used to talk about the weather.

"What?! Why?" you say, trying to control your surprise, but otherwise completely taken aback.

"Well, you haven't touched your tea for starters" she says nonchalantly, and you suddenly remember you have been floating the teacup next to you the whole time, "also you aren't really saying anything."

She calmly closes her eyes again and sips from her own teacup, in a way that could make you very well believe you are not there at all.

"But then…" you try, hesitantly, "why did you even call me here?"

You keep your eyes trained on her. Normally you would be doing that so you could be attentive to any slight movement, any small hint of body language that might occur if you were having a normal conversation.

But right now, you are looking at her because looking anywhere else just feels too uncomfortable, especially after noticing all the little details that you did.

"I called you here because I want to know you better, why else?" she answers simply, and although she doesn't shrug that sort of movement wouldn't have been out of place right now.

"Why?" you ask again. A part of you knows that you are fumbling, and that you must sound extremely uninteresting right now, seeing that you are doing all the things you would want to avoid in a normal conversation.

But nothing else comes to mind right now, and a part of you is really dreading that she might be thinking of simply asking you to leave.

"Because you seem nice. Well, not exactly nice…" she opens her eyes slightly, looking at nowhere in particular as if searching for a word, "but you seem to be… the kind of mare who can understand things, I guess. Not like the others, I mean."

"I don't look like the others…?" you narrow your eyes, seeing that you might just manage to go somewhere from this, "why exactly do you think that? What is the matter with the others?"

You are almost positive she means the rest of the inner circle, so you ask precisely that.

And you dearly hope she takes the bait, you really hope that she doesn't simply brush your question off and resume her silent demeanor.

She opens her mouth after a few long moments, but what comes out isn't exactly the answer you have been hoping for.

"Why did you join the cult, Velvet?" she asks, in her same usual impassive tone.

You suppress a reaction, a deep breath that your body is calling for you to do. At least, you think, the mare is still talking, so you go for that.

"Well, the cult seemed interesting, for starters… it was interesting enough for me to want to go to the first few common meetings with Copper, before I was introduced to the Master, and I also had the time," you answer, to which she nods.

She looks at you for a few more moments, and then she nods once again, this time more slowly.

"And why do you think then," she asks, seeming to take more care with her words now, "that everypony else joins the cult?"

Is she judging you? Is she hoping for a particular answer? Is there a trick to this question that you haven't noticed? You mull her words over in your head a few times, but you can't really see any of that.

So you decide to go with what you know.

"Well, I assume that for the same reasons?"

She tilts her head at you, the first reaction you have ever seen from her, as far as you can remember. Although you can't really say what exactly she means by that, whether if it means a polite show of surprise or if it is the equivalent of a facehoof.

"It's a cult Velvet," she says, still with that same dispassionate tone, "it garners for ponies who have problems. It is a micro-society, and the only reason anypony would join it would be because they don't think they have a place in the society they are currently a part of."

She says that, slowly, without breaking stride and on the same way she might be saying she thinks your dress looks nice. But you can't help but notice that your eyes are now wide open in surprise.

That was not, in a far shot, the sort of answer that you were expecting.

"What… whatever you mean by that, Jade?" you try to recompose yourself, but you stammer a little in your answer. You open your mouth to try and word it better but, again much to your surprise, the mare is already talking again.

"Well, it's clear enough, you can see just by looking at us. For example" she says, calmly sipping from her tea, "Starry Dancer is illiterate, or at least has a very big difficulty with it, and as much as she tries to hide it I think you have noticed how she acts evasively whenever she has to read something, be it a letter or whatnot. Comet Feet came from out of town and keeps to himself, but not in a healthy way."

The mare stops for a few moments, just to put a little more tea in her cup.

But by now, interrupting her does not even cross your mind.

"Copper Secateur needs to appear interesting to other ponies, and sometimes she won't bring in an initiate as much as she will seduce them, and Windy Flakes…" she stops for a few moments and simply stares at her teacup, "well, I just think it's clear that everypony there feels abandoned somehow, or that they don't fit. And the sense of being part of something bigger, or of having guidance, or of belonging to something that is personal and mysterious, is what attracts them."

You realize that you are sitting straight on your seat, that something in you is rigid with shock at the mare, although she is not even looking in your direction. You are not even sure of how to react, of even if you should react at all.

"But what about you?" she raises her eyes from her teacup, and look into yours, "Windy says you have a daughter, and Copper mentioned once you have a nice husband, so I was wondering why a mare like you would want to distance herself from that by joining a cult."

"I…" you hesitate.

Jade Whistle is right. She is frighteningly right, although that was not something you had consciously considered before. Of course, you had no idea about anything she just told you, about all the little details she mentioned in an almost off-hoof manner, but you can see the logic behind her reasoning.

And you can see it in yourself as well. You recall the way you felt years ago, as a mare who had been married off to an unknown stallion of some conveniently influential family, as a mother whose daughter was practically hated by her own grandfather by virtue of having been borne with wings instead of a horn. About all the little dissatisfactions that piled up in your life over the years, ever since the accident when you were younger, after which you slowly drifted apart from your father and was isolated from the rest of your family.

Until you met Copper Secateur, during one of the particularly long trips your husband was making, and she introduced you to your… pastime.

You swallow something dry, and a corner of your brain reminds you that your tea must be cold by now, but you don't care. You look at Jade Whistle's impassive eyes, and you think that mare might as well be looking straight into your soul.

"I… don't exactly have a perfect life either…" you finally answer, to which the mare gives a deep and understanding nod.

But in that nod you see something, you see a hint that isn't only of understanding, but of some deeper feeling that is crossing her mind. You recognize a glimpse that you think you saw when she tried to comfort Starry Dancer after the last reunion, although her use of words might have been as nonchalant as the one she has now.

You see… some sort of familiarity? As if she somehow understands what you mean too well?

You see all of that, and you can't help but to wonder…

"But what about you?" you ask, knowing that she understood your question before you even finished saying it.

Jade Whistle keeps her eyes trained on yours, in silence, but you can tell that she is thinking. She might even be thinking deeply, if you really are beginning to understand the mare.

Until she closes her eyes again, and takes another sip from her tea.

You fumble internally at that, did you perhaps completely misread her or-

"Could you bring down that picture? The one on top of the cabinet?", but she interrupts your train of thought, "I saw you looking at it when I came back, so I know you noticed it."

You feel slightly uncomfortable at that, something in your head is telling you that you shouldn't have noticed that photograph to begin with, although you have no idea of how noticing something could possibly be your fault.

But you reach out to it with your magic, regardless, and float it towards her.

To which she shakes her head, and gently pushes the floating picture in your direction.

"That's my family", she says, as soon as you reach it with your hoofs, although you have to swipe away a layer of dust.

And you can see that, although the way it is portrayed surprises you. In the center of the picture is Jade Whistle, a younger version of herself, and she has a beaming smile. Her coat looks like it is a lighter color, and she is… she is hugging a small colt, that seems to be the same age that Silky is right now.

You can see that the sides of the picture are torn out, but you can make out that to each side of the duo stands a mare and a stallion.

"That's me and my brother, together with mother and father," she confirms your suspicions before you even voice them.

Another chill runs down your spine, and you remember just how large and empty her house is.

"They used to travel a lot, and bring back all sorts of trinkets and objects with them. They would tell us all sorts of stories about their travels, too, and we would always listen to them with a shine in our eyes."

She continues to speak, although her voice sounds like the very opposite of somepony who even once in her life ever had a shine in her eyes, or that ever smiled the way you see that she did for the picture.

"It would rile our imagination, of course. I even got my cutie mark when I realized I like to collect things, like the ones they used to bring from their travels," she says, looking at her own flank in between her sips of teas, "and my brother… well, he thought he might earn his own by being an adventurer like our parents."

You take a second look at the picture, feeling a knot tie itself in your chest. The little colt, much like your daughter, doesn't have a cutie mark either. And being a mother, you are especially used to a small pony's antics when they try to figure out their cutie marks.

"So he tried doing just that. One morning he left for an adventure. Mother and father were away, and I was busy cleaning the house," she continues.

Her tone sounds like she is very bored, but you notice how she takes a deep breath before continuing.

"Only problem is, of course, Ponyville is right next to the Everfree Forest."

She stops, and takes a long sip from her teacup. You have no idea if she is just allowing the meaning of her words to sink in, or if she extremely distressed without letting it show. But you remain deathly quiet.

Of course you do, you wouldn't know what to say even if you wanted to say something.

You wouldn't be able to say anything even if you tried, not with the knot in your chest slowly squeezing you more and more.

And after what must have been almost a minute, Jade Whistle continues.

"The thing about timberwolves," she says with a slightly different tone, almost as if she was reading aloud form a book, "is that, being plants, they dislike things which can move. They do not need to eat, feeding themselves as a plant would, but they will hunt down anything that has even the slightest movement to it. Be that movement a regular trot, the ability to breathe or even a pulse."

Jade Whistle closes her eyes, and takes another deep breath, putting her teacup aside once she is done with that. She looks back at you, and you wonder if she can tell that your heart is practically hammering against your chest, that it feels like it is about to be squeezed out of you by the sheer weight that you are feeling.

"But timberwolves usually leave their mark alone once it stops moving," her tone is back to normal again, you have no idea how, "and his cutie mark was the image of a small adventuring kit. A little lantern, some rope and… some other things more… it was hard to tell. But a few days after that happened father left, saying he couldn't stand to live here anymore, and then mother gave up," she finishes, staring at you with her deadpan expression.

But you nearly stop breathing at that. You realized how she worded her parent's reactions very differently. You realized how her father left, and then her mother left.

An idle part of your head wonders how your expression must be right now, but you really don't have it in you to care anymore.

And you slowly start to ask a question, almost without conscious thought.

"Why…" there are several things you want to say, a lot of things you nearly want to shout, and quite a few things you want to do right now. But you can only properly form one question in your mouth, "why are you telling me this…?"

You almost whisper it, your voice would tremble far more than it just did if you tried to say it any louder. It is not that you are asking her why she just told you that, but instead why she wanted to tell you all of this to begin with.

Why did she think about inviting you over, having intended to send that letter or not, and simply sit you in… somepony's study room and tell you all of this? Why you, if you practically don't even know her at all?!

"Because you seem like a nice pony… and I thought you would understand."

"Understand what?"

She looks at you, and for the first time her expression turns into something resembling doubt, and she simply shrugs.

"I… I don't know," she concedes, "but that's how things are, isn't it? That's the way things go. Once you realize something, once you see something and notice that it is there, your whole world changes it. After that point you live in a world where the thing you noticed is there, and it exists for you now, and it demands space, and sometimes even your attention and…"

She lets out a sigh, a defeated sigh this time, although you can barely differentiate it from a normal one, coming from her.

"I'm sorry," she sure doesn't sound sorry, "this didn't go as I thought it would… You coming here was a mistake after all."

You look at the mare, your mind completely confused as to how it should react. How can Jade Whistle even be so neutrally calm like she is? What was crossing her mind when she thought about calling you over to just up and tell you all this?! What in the heavens is even going on through her mind for her to…?

And then it finally clicks.

She was answering your question of why she joined the cult. And she mentioned she called you because… what was it again, something about you understanding?

She was hoping, you realize, that you would understand her.

This is her problem. She did say that everypony has one, and she seems to be the kind of pony who words things like that. She understands that she has a problem, and that this is it.

Jade Whistle is, you realize, an extremely observant pony, and a very intelligent one as well. But you can't shake the feeling that despite all of that, or perhaps because of that, she has come to the conclusion that she has an almost alien view about life. She has a way of seeing things that causes her not to be able to connect with almost anypony else.

And once she realized it, well… the world she lives in "became a world where that fact exists" as she puts it.

But you realize that this conclusion made her an extremely lonely pony. The particular kind of lonely that is already so used to it, that they don't even notice themselves.

You see it now. There is too much Lantern in her. She can see things so clearly that she gets lost in them, and can't care enough to try and do anything about it, or maybe she simply has no idea of what to do to begin with.

So, she just… keeps looking at the world with those dead eyes of hers, with that neutral expression marred with indifference.

Although you can see that there is still somepony underneath all of that. In the very core, she still cares and feels very much.

"I will take you to the door," she gets up before you can react, and walks away from the study, towards the front door, "you can just forget about this whole morning and go on with your life."

You follow after her, but you still have no idea of what to say. Your words still stuck in your throat until you are standing out of her house, and she has her hoof on the door.

She looks at you one last time from inside her house, from within that cold and empty corridor, while you stand just outside of it. The two of you repeating the same scene from earlier this morning, with the tiny difference that she does not look as sleepy as she did back then.

Another difference, however, is that she didn't have as much… something in her eyes either, as she does right now, although despite your years of experience you have no idea of what that thing is.

"Look," she finally says, as if to say her goodbyes, "I know I'm not the best with words but… I'm sorry. Just pretend you didn't come here today, and I will do the same."

And with that she moves to close the door, but before she does that you-



[] nod at her. You asked, she answered. You searched, she let you in. Knowledge is never kind, and she seems to both know that well and have come to terms with it. What she has not done, however, is ask for your pity. Gain one scrap of LANTERN Lore. (Jade Whistle might understand if you do this)

[] go ahead and hug her. This is not unwarranted pity, this is basic kindness. She may have her own way at looking at the world, but you can see that her world is a dark place, and that she very much wants to be found. Gain one scrap of WINTER Lore. (Jade Whistle might not understand if you do this)

[] do nothing. She, much like her house, is too cold and too dark. You'd better keep your distance. (Jade Whistle will very much understand if you do this)





Velvet Covers is not certain of what to make of any of this…

Breakpoints:
20: the recent cleaning
40: the candle
60: the empty chairs
80: the framed picture
100: the marks around her neck

You have not rolled high enough for her to tell you a certain secret about the cult, but she has told you almost everything about herself.

Jade Whistle is a very curious mare.
Jade Whistle is not a pony against whom social rolls, of the usual kind, will be used often.
Jade Whistle is…

Interpret it as you wish.
> Turn 5 - Results, part 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



You decide to hug her.



In the end you did not know what to say. Although Jade Whistle had just said that, she didn't sound apologetic or shook, she didn't even sound disappointed or surprised. If you had your eyes closed, you would think from her tone of voice that she really was being honest that the two of you should go your separate ways and pretend nothing of that ever happened.

But just like she said, your eyes are not closed to her anymore. You see her now, you know now, and from now on your world will be a world in which this morning has happened.

So you stopped her from closing the door with your own hoof.

You don't really remember what her expression looked like, if it even changed at all, but you do remember that right after that you closed on her.

And simply gave her a hug. No words seemed adequate even then, so you went with what you thought was best. Or rather, with what you felt was best.

However, you do remember that the two of you stayed like that for a while, and that right when you were about to step back from her, you think you felt her hoof on your back.

And Jade Whistle's eyes, of this you are sure, were wide in surprise when you finally let go of her.

You could see, or at least you hope you saw, that you gave her something to think about. Good, you thought, better than having nothing but her memories and empty house for company. No words were exchanged between the two of you, and you went home after that.

Of course, when you arrived home you also got hold of your daughter and made absolutely sure that she knew she is never supposed to go anywhere near the Everfree Forest. Ever.

Absolutely. Sure.



You gave Jade Whistle something to think about. You hope her thoughts are kind to her, at least in that.









You decide to call it a day, or rather to call it a night. You have been doing that more often, the semi all-nighters you used to pull while working slowly starting to become a distant memory, and you can't exactly say that you feel sorry for that. Part of you deciding that, maybe, dedicating yourself so much to it was a way of keeping your mind busy to begin with.

Well, you have plenty of other things to worry about now.

Ponpon noticed, of course, as have some of the other servants, but you feel that the general feeling is that this has been a turn for the better. Especially since you have been dedicating more of that free time to your family.

And that is an image you are taking great care to maintain, as much as it is mostly true. Your other businesses going completely unnoticed by anypony that matters.

The size of the paperwork is still the same though, and thus it is being the part of the equation that is paying the price. Well, you didn't neglect it either, but unlike how it has been these last few years you can now say for sure that you have not read every last page of every last report. Not even close to that.

You realize that you are rambling, mentally, and get off from your chair, allowing your eyes to close a bit and your body to slowly let go of its tension as you head to the door.

When you notice a particular scroll, on your "IN" box at your office desk, that you must have missed.

It is hidden behind a rather large stack of ledgers, so you can hardly blame yourself.

"And what might you be…?" you float the scroll towards you and unseal it in an almost careless manner, giving its rather short content a once over.



[Book hunt – servant action]

[Roll: 72 + 12 (Learning) = 84]

-FORGE Level 2. "A book about ingenious farming equipment, and how they function." Costing 15 bits.

-HEART Level 2. "A novel about a mare who fell in love with a drummer, the romantic parts all written in rhyming poetry." Costing 15 bits.

-HEART Level 3. "A study about yak culture. The part about their history and folklore is of little use. The chapters about their songs, however…" Costing 30 bits.



"Oh," you say in surprise, "I had really forgotten all about this…"

You bring the scroll back with you to your room. This is something you should think over with a clear mind, so you will make sure to put it on your nightstand and check it again tomorrow.





You feel somewhat grateful that you do not feel tired while dreaming.

You try not to think too much about your day, since that is a quick road towards waking up, but you can't help but recall that you were rather tired when you went to sleep. And yet here you are, completely alert, gazing at the crossroads with your objective for this foray clear on your mind.

You wonder if you actually forget something, if maybe every time you shear a bit of your mane you leave something of you behind, or if there is some sort of permanent price that you must pay for your folly, every time you come into the Mansus, that you have yet to notice.

Well, even if you do forget about something, it surely is not something as important as the things you forget when you cross the Blank Door. And you have not yet noticed anything strange about your life in the Wake so you think, or at least you hope, that there is no great soul-sucking secret that you might be missing, or that might come to bite you up ahead.

Again. You hope.

You turn your back to the Woods and head towards the Dreamlands, aiming for the kaleidoscopic sort-of pollution that you see in the horizon. You idly recall that Princess Luna was tired when she got into her dreams, during those last moments you were still seeing her memories from inside her mind during the Ritual, and that a lot of things might have been avoided if she had felt as rested as you feel every time you go into the Mansus. But her method of entrance is far different from yours, and you don't think it can even be said that she is actively dreaming as much as it can be considered her doing her alicorn magic to get into the Dreamlands, so you figure there are different principles involved.

You finally reach the threshold to the Dreamlands, and today it has the form of a staircase, going down until its steps are covered in that white fog. You feel that same revulsion, again only for a split second, that you are instead looking at a festering wound, or perhaps at a crack on the roof that is slowly letting water drip into your house. But again that impression is gone before you can properly address it.

You take a deep breath, although you know it is not exactly of any use, and descend through the stairs.


Until the white mists envelop you, and you feel the sensation of wood under your hoofs.


You can feel tension and nervousness spread through your body. The mist has a shine to it, so the impression that you have is that you are being blinded by white light as you are completely enveloped by it, but you are not nervous because of the mists. Quite on the contrary, you can feel that you are already on the Dreamlands, you can feel that you are on the wooden bridge, and you know that if you take a few more hoofsteps forward the will exit the mists and see the Dreamlands themselves before you.

But that is the problem.

You did you very damned best to try and avoid thinking about it, you made sure you went to sleep sufficiently tired so you would fall unconscious as soon as possible so that you wouldn't have time to remember it.

However, you have finally reached the point of no return.

You know that it has always been like that, and it was you who was ignorant about it. You know that you need to be able to act normally, that you can't let yourself be crippled by fear or knowledge, and that you need to leverage every last bit of advantage that you have at your disposal, your access to the Dreamlands being the chiefest among them right now.

So, you think as you take a tentative step forwards, seeing the bright mists fade around you, you know that you have to…

Another deep breath, with a promise that this will be the very last one. You whisper a few words of Winter and calm, and walk out of the mists.

You expected everything to be totally different, after what you saw in Princess Luna's dream, you expected to have some terrible revelation that would cause you to freeze or want to run away. You half-thought that as soon as you exited the mist you would look up and see a great and terrible eye, the size of the moon at night, simply opening on the heavens, looking straight at you.

But you see nothing of that. You see only a great sea of glowing doors on streets of red carpet, the city-like configuration surrounded by the eternal black nothingness in all directions. Everything is calm and quiet, as if you were walking on the streets of Ponyville during the night, and almost think you can hear the city itself breathing softly on its sleep.



Except that this time you know.



You do not have the same sense of scale and distance as Princess Luna had, and you are more thankful for it than you thought you would be. Part of you thinks that her knowledge wasn't so much her ability to perceive the darkness, but rather some revelation implanted in her mind by the thing. You almost can't believe that when you look up you should be able to see anything other than nothing.

But you avoid looking up as much as possible, regardless.

You shake your head as you reach the end of the wooden bridge, the glowing mist behind you and the red carpet flanked by the cutie-marked doors before you. You have a goal in mind, and the short span of a night to look for it. You need to locate Princess Luna herself or some trace of her presence, whatever helps you get in contact with her, while avoiding the things that you know will be stalking in the Dreamlands.

You also need to be careful of the Princess herself, of course. It won't do if you find her in a distressed state, and she decides that a pony walking around the Dreamlands is just another cruel trap in her dream.



[Glitching the System, again, breakpoints 60/100]

[Roll: 75 + 12 (Magic) + 5 (Gifted) = 92]



You close your eyes and try to reinterpret the Dreamlands as you did on the first time you were here.

You can feel that you nearly arrive at the same result, you can feel yourself slowly easing into the mindset that this is all indeed a dream, and that it is natural for the Dreamlands to shift and flux as you need, for its landscape to run like wax and mold itself like clay. You can sense the familiarity of the idea that the scenery before you ought to change every time you blink, and that a corner might not reveal the same scene if you look around it twice.

But your thought process jams at the very last moment with the image that some titanic thing might also be stretching its claws towards the Dreamlands, and suddenly you feel like the Dreamlands must also be hard and stable and purposefully confusing, so that the cutie-marked doors that make it glow might be better defended. And that blissful ease with which you might traverse the place escapes from you like a breeze might escape through an open window.

Damned sleeping logic. Damn it especially because its your life that might be at risk here.

Seriously, what use is all your Moth Lore if you can't even boggle your brain when you need to?



[You have partially reinterpreted the Dreamlands, +10 on all rolls for the rest of the night.]



Still, you didn't come prepared with only this.

You reach into a corner of your soul, you reach for the memories of the paradoxical riddles you said aloud in a dark room, while your eyes were blindfolded. You recall the sensation of looking into the ritual circle, and of feeling the winds of the Mansus looking back at you, a faint whisper of Moth depositing itself in the lock of mane you had cut out this night.

And you set out into the Dreamlands, searching for the signs of Princess Luna.



[To avoid the things that crawl, "night" period]

[Roll: 24 + 13 (Intrigue) + 30 (MOTH bonus, doubled) + 10 (Dreamland shaping) = 77]

[Their roll: 39 + 15 (Worms, small and few in number) = 54]

[The search, "night" period, CD ???]

[Search roll: 38 + 8 (Martial) + 10 (SECRET HISTORIES bonus) + 10 (Dreamland shaping) = 66]



You know what they are, or at least you know where they come from and what they are called.

But that does not make this any less unpleasant.

You set out through the dream-avenues, the mockery of a city somewhat reminding you of Canterlot in its broad and grandiose presentation. Cutie-marked doors glow softly as you pass them by, and you look at them attentively as you trot. You have already seen the glow of Luna's attention, when she passes by a dream, and a part of you hope that you might see it again.

It would at least be a sign that she is active here, if nowhere else. There have been no news from the crown about her return, and you are sure that it will be the sort of news that travel faster than a pegasus, but you still foster some hope that she might at least be out of the sorry state in which you know she was.

Maybe she is already back to her senses, but the guilt of what she did in Canterlot might be stopping her from wanting to return. That might be the best-case scenario you can think of, and might be unlikely as optimistic things usually are, but at least you can hope for it.

It doesn't take long for you to see them, though, or rather for you to feel them.

The faint echo of a gurgling wrongness that causes your heart to beat just a little less vigorously, the smell of claws faintly scraping against a blackboard, the idea of something rotting at night. All of those things hit you, although you can't tell from where, but you know that they are here somewhere.

You know that there are Worms about, as they always are.

But you must go deeper into the dreamlands, so you focus on the path ahead of you and will it into a straight and narrow path, wishing for it to have as few curves and corners as possible, so that you might not be surprised by anything coming from more directions than you can be mindful of.

The Dreamlands respond in a janky way, your mind not as half-asleep as you wish it were for you to be able to mold the scenery around you as well as you did last time, but still you see some results. Some corners, the ones where you think those terrible sensations might be coming from, disappear the next time you blink your eyes, and you press onwards.

You cross great arching roads of carpet, paying close attention to the faint glow of the doors around you.

You work your way around a group of Worms as they mindlessly chew at a some of the cutie-marked doors, doing as much as you can to be wary of their position while paying the least amount of attention to them that you possibly can.

You nearly run into one of them, as you realize too late that the path behind you had become a dead end, but the creature is thankfully unaware of your presence. So although it strains your mind dearly to remain calm, you simply wait for the thing to fumble away. And then you wait some more, before deciding it is safe for you to press on.

Not your proudest moment, you must admit, but you are deep in the Dreamlands now, and the Worms are becoming more numerous as the sea of light stretches in every direction around you, the wooden bridge and the glowing mist far from where you are right now.

And you must go deeper still, and faster, for you know that time still passes while in here, and this night will not last forever.



[To avoid the things that crawl, "early morning" period]

[Roll: 38 + 13 (Intrigue) + 30 (MOTH bonus, doubled) + 10 (Dreamland shaping) = 91]

[Their roll: 65 + 25 (Worms, small yet numerous) = 90]



You are very deep in the Dreamlands.

The sea of light stretches on in every direction, an endless vista of cutie-marked doors, the individual glow in each of them compounding into what is now a clear brightness. Not oppressive or blinding, but a stark and noticeable contrast to how bright it is on the fringes of the Dreamlands, near the wooden bridge.

And because of that added brightness, you also know that you are in greater danger.

You had to compromise. You realized at some point that going in a specific direction wouldn't make you go any "deeper" into the Dreamlands, even if you thought you were heading towards such a place. This little detail, you think, must be something that you might not have realize the last time you have been here, by sheer virtue of having so much control over the landscape then. You realize now that you must "want" to go deeper into the dreamlands, and only then will the quantity of cutie-marked doors around you become greater and denser, and the wooden bridge will feel more far away.

And so you willed it. You gave up on the notion of walking on a carpeted avenue that "looked like" it would take you where you wanted to go, and you actually "decided" to go towards that concentration of lights.

You realized it had been the correct decision when the feeling in your chest became more alarming, and the sheer amount of Worms, both near and far, increased exponentially.

Well, "correct" decision. That is highly debatable from many points of view, all of them which involve your interest in staying safe. But you are resolute in finding Princess Luna, so you must take this risk.

Although you are now far more worried with sticking to the frames of the cutie-marked doors, which are now sufficiently numerous to form a veritable wall on the sides of the carpeted road, so as to hide yourself from what might be lurking beyond the next curve or the next street.

Although you had to run away and backtrack several times, and you are paying far more attention to the sound of your beating heart, and the noise of scraping against wood, and the trembling of animalistic laughter that just sounds wrong, and all the other things that could mean the difference between safety and danger, instead of looking at the cutie-marked doors for the signs that might point to Princess Luna's passing.

You very dearly want to get away from here, or hope that this is a particularly infested place. You look around in search for some place, any place, that might be just a little less infested with the presence of the Worms.

And there you see it, an avenue that seems to be free of the creatures. You nervously look around to see if there are any Worms nearby, or if you might cross the line of sight of any one which could be somewhere close enough, before you dash across the carpeted street and towards the passage that seems safe.



[The search, "early morning" period, CD ???]

[Search roll: 96 + 8 (Martial) + 10 (SECRET HISTORIES bonus) + 10 (Dreamland shaping) = 124]



And you immediately feel a change in the air.

Evading the Worms is a strange affair. You can identify which places they have been through because the light there seems dimmer, you know where their many eyes are looking at because it just feels wrong to even approach it. They seem to radiate their abominable presence in an inconstant and shapeless area around them, but as they grew more numerous as you progressed deeper into the Dreamlands, you had almost not noticed the growth of their auras.

You had definitely not gotten used to it, of course, there is no way that anypony could ever be "eased" into that sensation by slow exposure, no matter how long a period of time was involved. The Worms are the opposite, not just of life but of everything. So what happened was that you slowly found yourself sinking deeper and deeper in their presence, your very being becoming heavier and heavier as you progressed.

But suddenly, you find yourself in a clear avenue, the air around you feels fresh, and the dream-light shines brightly as if a curtain had been opened somewhere nearby.

You look behind you, at the carpeted avenue that you have just been to, and notice how dark and gloomy it is, the presence of the Worms overbearingly strong.

But right here where you are? Right now? The difference is as glaring as night is from day, almost as if you had crossed a barrier of sorts that…

Your eyes shoot wide as you realize it. You stand in a place that the Worms cannot approach, their presence stymied and undone like a shadow might be banished by the light of candle.

You gallop ahead, as silently as you can so you might not scare the one you hope to find, but as fast as you can so you might not lose their mark. You shudder at the thought that the center of this "bubble" of safety might simply walk away from you, and that suddenly you will be in the presence of the Worms once again.

You look around, searching for the cutie-marked doors that might have been touched, alert for the signs of one that might be half-opened, perhaps during an ongoing visit. The certainty of your success increases as you feel a soothing presence growing stronger, some sort of instinct deep within you saying that you are safe in here, telling you that one who watches over is nearby.

When you finally find her.

Or rather, when you finally find something you… were not quite hoping you would.



[You have located Princess Luna's dream door at the end of "early morning" period, you will have one attempt at opening it during this night]



You feel rather foolish, as you usually do when thinking back about certain things in hindsight.

You can feel where you are, and that makes the whole thing all the clearer. You have no way of measuring it, no way of being absolutely sure, but you are certain that right now you are in the very center of the Dreamlands.

You have arrived at the heart of the sea of light that floats in the endless darkness, you stand right now at the very core of the dreams of ponykind. So it stands to reason that this will be where the door to Princess Luna's own dreams must reside.

It is obvious, really. Like any proper constellation, it is obvious that the starlight of every last dream and every last door must orbit the greatest and most important of them. It should have been evident from the very beginning that you would find the cutie-marked door of the Princess of the Night on the very center of her own kingdom, like a throne room will be in the center of a castle, and a castle will be in the heart of its city.

In fact, something tells you that the dreams of the other Princesses would be here as well, if they were asleep. But as far as word goes, Princess Celestia and Princess Cadance haven't exactly had much time for that as of late.

However, you still have… something akin to a problem.

You know your way here now. The journey might be perilous due to the sheer quantity of Worms nearby, and you suspect that their numbers are greater also due to Princess Luna's… absence? But you know that you will be able to navigate to this place much more easily in the future, if you need to, since you now actually know where to go. And although you thought Princess Luna would be active and awake at night, she isn't right now, so you might be able to find her door here again if her recent situation means that she is sleeping at this time.

However, again, you still have a problem. And that problem has the shape of a cutie-marked door.

You approach it, cautiously. Her door is like any other, with the sole difference that it is her cutie mark which is emblazoned in it. You do not know if that is an effect of the laws of the Dreamlands, or if it is the way that your mind is interpreting it, or if it is just some sort of materialization of Princess Luna's humility, although you do not know her well enough to know if that might be the case.

But it is still a faintly glowing door, which appears to be made out of wood, with a doorknob over a regular-looking keyhole.

And yet, it is Princess Luna who is behind this door, the Princess of the Night herself, regent of dreams and guardian of ponykind, as the titles go.

She is behind this door, and you need to find her somehow.

So, you need to open this door.

You take a deep breath. You hope that this is not like a Mansus door, and that there are no tricks or laws or prices to it.

You hold your breath in, and put your hoof on the doorknob.



[The lock of a precious jewel box, "sunrise comes" period, CD 100]

[Roll: 90 + 13 (Intrigue) + 10 (KNOCK bonus) = 113]

[Well then…]



You let out a gasp, sharp and sudden, as you feel rather than you see or think.

It was faster than a flash, more sudden than a memory, and yet as deep as a dream that you might have had when you were younger, that you could somehow still remember to this day.

You heard her dream-door. It did not speak to you, it did not reach out to you, but you heard it like a pony might read an open book, or a pegasus might feel the passing wind in its wings.

The door, her door, it is… resolute?

It is hard to describe with words.

You wish to say that her door is mourning, as it has witnessed the Ritual, and it saw all the terrible memories of its master unleashed upon her once again. However, doors do not mourn.

You wish to say that her door feels violated, for its failure in keeping the outside things at bay was what allowed the Ritual to happen in the first place. However, doors do not feel violated.

You wish to say that her door feels determined. It feels determined to distinguish and impede passage, it feels determined to separate and to allow the entrance of none that would cause her charge harm. However, a door can feel nothing at all.

For it is just a door.

And yet, you felt all of that.

You know this door, now. You understand it intimately, although it is just a door. You know that you could force it open, that you could violate it once again, that you could slice through its lock and cross it by will.

However, you also share in the door's wish to not let in anyone who might cause harm. You share that feeling, both in principle as a pony, and in particular sympathy to the one you know is behind that door.

So, you promise the door that you do not come as an invader. Not this time.


"You can let me in," you whisper to the door, softly, using the words that have been used since the dawn of time, by travelers as they walked by crossroads, and by pilgrims as they crossed the gates of castles, and by locksmiths as they gave shape to keys.


And the door believes in you, and allows your passage.

You step into Princess Luna's dream, and the door closes gently behind you.





You find yourself in a dark room. Not the normal kind of darkness, as closing your eyes yields no results, but the purposeful kind of darkness. The darkness of nothingness, of non-existence. The darkness of sleep.

And you see a source of light, not far ahead, the clear indication of where you should go.

And much to your surprise, you see Princess Luna, her back turned to you, her body resting against the fence of a balcony, overlooking somewhere.

It almost reminds you of the marble balcony of her room, the one you saw in her dreams, however you know this to be a different place.

But, you realize as you approach her, she is… asleep? She is asleep inside her own dream…?

You approach her, slowly, cautiously, wary that you might both wake her up in her own dream, and that she might react at your sudden presence, as well as wary that you might somehow wake her up in real life merely by being here, which might cause the dream to simply end, or perhaps something worse.

But she gives no sign of movement, save for her soft and peaceful breathing.

You reach her, close enough that you could touch her wings if you wanted to. And feel… something.

But of course, this feeling, it is something close to… relief? Yes, it is relief. You are honestly relieved to see her like this, sleeping peacefully.

Even if you have never met her before in person, even if you might be a complete stranger to her… you still saw with her eyes and felt with her feelings, and then you saw what happened to her after that. So seeing her like this, finally at something close to tranquility is… soothing.

You do not want to wake her up. It would feel too wrong.

You look out towards the view then. She is asleep in a balcony, overlooking someplace that might be a forest or somewhere near a mountain.

And you immediately notice something.

You don't know how you know it, but this place… this scenery before her, it is real. It might be a memory that imprinted itself on her mind as she fell asleep or it might be a reminiscence but... Yes, you are sure of it. You know with the certainty that one feels while in a dream, this is a sight she must have been looking at as she fell asleep.

It is real, and more importantly it is recent, you can feel it as you might recognize that the smell of a flower is fresh, instead of being some bottled perfume.

You approach the balcony, taking the utmost care not to touch the Princess, but you get as close as you can from it to get as much of a view as you might be able to. You commit all of it to memory, a forest that might be a tundra, crossed by a serpentine river and with two hills in sight. You try to make out more details, perhaps some sort of specific fauna or flora that might be particular to a certain region, but as you search for those details you realize that the image is blurred in parts.

It might be because the Princess herself was not attentive to said details, or simply didn't look for them, but the more you look at the scenery before you, the more you realize that you might as well be looking at some sort of painting. Detailed in message and shape, but not exactly with the fine features of real life.

You look at it for as long as you can, to the point where you can still see it even when you close your eyes. You must look for this place, in the Wake, you must search for it and soon, for Princess Luna has clearly been here. And this might be the best lead anypony has in all of Equestria.

You take a deep breath, seeing that there is nothing else for you here, and you prepare to leave.

But before you do, you take one last look at the Princess, a thought suddenly coming to you.

What might be going on in her mind, right now? Has she recovered? Is she doing well? A part of you wishes to stay for just a bit longer, to keep her company for just a few more moments. You know you have no right or reason to do so, you do not share the bond she has with her sister, you have never met her in person and you know that if she were to wake up right now she might even feel threatened by your presence in here.

However, you can't help but worry, you can't help but to feel sorry for the pony who has been subjected to the fate she has. And you do not mean only the things that you witnessed, but her fate as a whole, considering the changes that have been forced upon her, considering the situation she was in when she returned from her banishment, as well as the situation she must be right now, whatever it may be.

And that in turn makes you wonder, what then? What if you do find her? What if you manage to come face to face with her? Will you know what to say?

If the very best possibility comes true, and you manage to explain her the whole situation, or at least as much as you know, will you know what to do next? Will you be able to tell her what to do next if she asks for your advice?

You are rambling, you realize. This is a dream. This is an alicorn's dream in the Dreamlands, Princess Luna's dreams, of all ponies. And although you can't feel the same subtle influence that you might feel in the Mansus, you can still tell that something is affecting you.

Even if it is just sympathy, or perhaps the familiarity of being inside Princess Luna's mind again, as you have been before during the ritual.

Still, you had better leave, there is nothing else to be gained here, although you dearly wish there was.

You whisper something in her direction, although you are not sure if it was a "good night" or something else, but you are sure that you wished her well by that.

And you head out to the door, and away from the Dreamlands.





Everything has a center, everything has a focal point, much like how the Mansus is at the center of the Histories and the heart is at the center of the body. You already knew that, but tonight you have experienced what it is to find one such place. Gained one scrap of SECRET HISTORIES Lore.

It is walls, and not doors, who only ever block and impede. Doors distinguish, doors test and keep watch, and most of all doors allow passage to the chosen few. Tonight, you have felt what it is to be chosen by a door. Gained one scrap of KNOCK Lore.

You have reached Princess Luna's dreams, and curiously found her asleep. But she was clutching tightly to a recent memory, and that memory might be the best clue you will ever have. You will gain the option of analyzing that memory, so that you may track that place in the Wake. Searching for said place, be it by mundane or esoteric means, is the only option you can think of going forward with this particular clue.
> Turn 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You are sitting at your office chair, reading a letter.

Not just any old letter, mind you, this is a letter from Canterlot, straight from the castle. Royal seal, high quality parchment, everything that the upper nobility enjoys.

Even the ink seems to be of excellent quality.

The content, however, is… something that you will have to give a great deal of thought to.

"Esteemed Mrs. Velvet… your help in the Canterlot Camp… invaluable to our efforts…" you read it once again, for what must be the third time, just to make sure you are getting this right. "We would like to cordially invite you to participate on the nation-wide coordination effort, in the royal castle, for the period of two weeks, signed…"

You sigh. You definitely read that correctly.

Two weeks. They want you for two weeks.

Granted, the letter was extensive in thanking you, and you can sense that whoever wrote it feels like you have already done more than your share, so it certainly is within your reach to simply deny the request.

You wouldn't be able to simply say the letter never arrived, of course, it came by royal courier, although you didn't recognize the name of the pony who signed it, and it certainly wasn't a Princess.

Still. Royal courier.

But anyways, you certainly wouldn't lose much if you denied the invitation, however… well, you are a noble, albeit a lesser noble, but you still have common sense. There are opportunities you can let pass you by, and opportunities you shouldn't let pass you by.

And there is also the fact that the letter danced around the subject, but didn't really avoid it, in saying that they are really short in staff. Any help would be appreciated, and your help would be especially appreciated.

But half a month…

"I could go there and say I can only stay a week, for sure. And besides…" you nervously talk to yourself.

Besides, they really must be overestimating you. Of course, captain Chalkhoof was boundlessly thankful for your help in his camp, but whatever the hell did he write in his report to warrant you, a lesser noble in a backwater town, something that was the second best thing next to a royal summons?

"Oh dear…" you sigh, "well, I might be able to-"

When your train of thought is interrupted by your door being banged open.

The hairs on your coat raise to their ends, but any reaction you might have is immediately restrained when you see that the pony who literally barged into your room is the one pony in all of Equestria who could get away with it scot free.

"MOM!"

The brown and beaming blur that is your daughter zips through the room and lands in your desk. It is a feat of reflexes on your part that you manage to shove your things to the side with magic, clearing her a small landing spot.

You see Soft Sweeps by the door, face on the ground and hoofs outstretched as if she had just tried, and failed, to stop your daughter from nearly blowing your door out of its hinges only a few moments ago.

Well, you will forgive her for that. She clearly tried.

"Mom! Look mommy, look!" Silky Stream prances on your table, speaking through her teeth as she holds on to a piece of paper she has in her mouth, "lookie look look! Can we go? Can we can we?!"

You stop her mid-prance with a bit of floating magic, a smile coming to your face as you recover from your shock, and your daughter's presence immediately melts away any sort of emotion that isn't objective acceptance to her actions.

Sure, you would remind her to try and not interrupt you while you are working, and you might have to remind her to listen to Soft Sweeps, as she clearly tried to stop Silky from coming here in the first place.

But your daughter is happy right now, and she didn't do anything objectively wrong, bar perhaps be a little overexcited about something. So you can't exactly scold her for that, right?

"Canwecanwecanwe?!" she keeps prancing, or at least her legs keep moving as she floats in the air, and you take the piece of paper she has in her mouth.

"Can we what, dear? What exactly is it that happened?" you ask absent-mindedly, as you take the paper she is holding and quickly read it.

It is a flier to some sort of… local event in Ponyville?

"Sisterhooves Social?" you ask her.

"Yes! Its an event where sisters compete! And all of my friends will be there with their sisters, and-" Silky Stream goes on and on, talking in the excited rush that only a foal is capable of talking in, and that only a parent is capable of understanding.

As she speaks, however, you look pass her and towards Soft Sweeps, who has only now recovered from her face-first impact. You see her dust off her maid uniform, but you catch her taking a peek in your direction from where she stands by the door.

And she notices your smile, directed at her, as well as she hears Silky Stream's continuous clamoring.

And by the heavens, you can see her soul leaving her body in embarrassment.

"-and now I can go because I have a sister! So can I go? Please? Pleasepleaseplease?" Silky Stream finishes, waving her hoofs around while free-floating in your magic.

"Is that so…?" you ask, as if seriously thinking about whether if you should let her or not.

But of course, the only thing you are really trying to do is not let your smile show too much.

You look at Soft Sweeps who is still by the door, blushing furiously and trying to hide her face behind her hoofs. You smile a little more at that.

"And did she say she would like to go with you?"

"Yes! She did!"

You see the maid die a little bit more inside.

"Well then dear, of course you can go."

Her reaction to your answer, although there really wasn't any other possible answer, nearly melts a hole in your heart, and as soon as you let go of her with your levitation she zips back towards Soft Sweeps, nearly tackling her in a hug, the two of them yelling and yelping for very different reasons, although deep down you can see that the maid is also almost as happy as your daughter is.

However, your eyes still fall towards the royally stamped letter on your desk. It didn't specify when you should come, only the period they would like you to stay, but it seems that you will have a very busy month ahead of you indeed…
> Turn 6 - Results, part 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



Given what you just discovered, within Princess Luna's dream, you decide that you need more information. And the royal summons you received from Canterlot will be the perfect place where you might be able to gather it. There is no better concentration of maps than there. And furthermore, by aiding in their efforts, you hope to learn about the locations they have already searched, so that you might learn where not to look.
You also decide to take Rarity with you. You could use her company and help as a friend. But more importantly, you hope to aid in her career as well. And Canterlot is the perfect place for a hopeful fashionista to debut.
And of course, you will definitely take your daughter to that Sisterhooves Social event!



You take a final look at the draft you made on your work calendar for the month, a small lump forming in your throat as you take in the entirety of your schedule.

You really have your work cut out for you, this time.

But in the end, a part of you whispers that you don't really have a choice, all things considered.

You have received a summons from Canterlot, for reasons that you still do not totally understand. Well, of course you understand those reasons, but you still cannot really fathom what that captain Chalkhoof must have done to warrant this much attention being thrown your way. The only ideas that come to mind is that either that captain was incredibly out of his depth and desperate, before you got to that camp, or that he fell in love with you or something.

You let out a short laugh at that second idea. Focus, Velvet, focus!

Well… as you were thinking, you don't really have a choice. This is not the kind of letter that anypony in their right mind could refuse, let alone if they were a noble pony such as yourself, even if you are a "lesser" noble with a rather… convoluted familial situation.

Not that they know of those details anyways. And since you were (probably) talked up in a report by a member of the Royal Guard, this summons was most likely the greatest bit of meritocracy you would ever be awarded in your life.

The period that they want you to be there, as well, makes you raise an eyebrow. Two weeks still sound odd no matter how many times you read the letter. Either that was the polite way they had to say "we think you did more than your fair share, so even if you come here we don't want you to think that we are imposing anything", or…

Well, or they mean a "we are desperate for help and every last bit of it will be appreciated, no matter how small or temporary".

Thinking that the crown would be desperate for help, especially when it involves efforts in locating a Princess sure sounds odd. But when you think about the slight hints of gossip that you heard from your husband, well…

Enough dilly-dallying. You have committed to going to Canterlot, and as much as a part of your mind is still reeling at the thought that you will have half the usual time to do your monthly assignments, another part also knows that this will be a very particular opportunity to do some other things…

It has been weeks now, almost months perhaps, that you have been toying with a certain idea. You are an administrator, and much as your job involves a good deal of number crunching it has also ingrained and trained in you the duty… nay, the need to maximize the potential of all the endeavors that lie within your reach.

And although you might not know much about the art involved, not nearly as much as you know about agriculture or management that is, you can still recognize untapped potential when you see it.

So, you figure that your sortie in the capital will also be a great opportunity to rectify that.





You walk in without ceremony, the now familiar sound of the silver bell over the door greeting you into the slightly less familiar sight of the interior of the Carousel Boutique.

Less familiar, that is, because its owner makes a point of always changing the interior design. But not just rearranging mannequins or the presentation of the place, mind you, you have realized that she downright changes the whole display with new clothes and themes as the days go by. You drop by every other week and still you always have a lot of new things to notice every time. You reckon that a client who only comes once a month will probably find himself looking at a new store on every visit.

You sometimes wonder where she gets all her inspiration from, while other times you wonder where all the other clothing articles she rotates away go. A slight discomfort comes to you when you think that, probably, many of them go unsold.

And that is indeed an utmost waste. Not only because she clearly has talent, but also because she is your friend.

But that discomfort is nowhere to be seen on your smile, especially not now that you can hear the shop owner's approaching hoofsteps.

"Velvet, darling, what a pleasant surprise," she appears from the deeper parts of the boutique, "I was so focused on something I had in mind that the bell almost didn't register. What can I help you with?"

"I need a little bit of advice, Rarity," you say, the pleasant tone of your voice hiding a wry smile that wants to bubble on your lips, "there is this event of sorts that I'm going to, and the pony who is accompanying me simply must be looking her very best for the occasion."

She looks at you now with more interest in her eyes, a slight glimmer in them as she recognizes the call of a challenge. Rarity gives you an understanding nod and waves for you to follow her as the two of you head towards the deeper parts of her boutique, where the longer dresses and the measuring room are.

You almost think you can hear her mind working as she starts summoning up her ideas and inspiration, already bringing up an soon-to-be-filled blueprint for whatever scenario you are bringing to her.

"I'd be charmed to be of assistance then," she says, leading the way as you walk behind her, "but do tell me more. Where will this event be?"

Her question is broad, but you have already spent enough time with her to know what she means. The conversations that you have with her, whenever you meet, usually head towards the subjects of fashion, of course. Both because you don't particularly think your own life is that interesting, and because Rarity is just so passionate about it that it's a bit hard to avoid. Not that you aren't interested in it whenever it comes up, of course.

But it also means that you have picked up a few things from her. And by a few you mean "a lot".

You might not know the first thing about styles of cuts, the science behind the use of a particular needle, or any of that. But you do know that tidbits of information such as the location, company and even context of an event are of the utmost importance for the tailoring of a particular dress, or the subtle changes that must be made to an already existing one.

That's what stallions don't really get about clothes. It's not that mares have too many dresses, it's just that each and every one of them is a highly specialized instrument, to be used only on the most specific of occasions. If they realized it, then they would understand why using the same dress twice is so very difficult.

But that is beside the point. Rarity is asking you those little details and, just like you planned, you make sure to answer it in the same way you would tell her that the weather outside is sunny.

"Oh, you know, it will be in Canterlot. I have some business to address in the Royal Castle, as things go…" you say nonchalantly.

"Canterlot? The Royal Castle?!"

And her reaction is instantaneous, just like you hoped it would be. You see her freeze for half a second as she walks, ears perking up, and you are sure that you would see a sparkle in her eyes if she didn't have her back to you.

But, you think as you suppress your smile, the conflict in her posture is also clearly visible.

You made sure you said it in a sufficiently nonchalant way for her to think that she shouldn't pry, for her to think that this is a casual event for you, and that it would be inelegant for her to ask any more details about it. You make it sound like you are bored, almost, and that you really are here just for some small advices and maybe pointers for some dress.

Oh, how wrong she is. You double check that your expression is still pleasantly neutral and schooled, of course.

"Yes, the Royal Castle," you almost wave a dismissive hoof as you say it, instead eyeing the overcoat next to you as if it was much more interesting than the subject at hand, "you know, the usual. All the nobles and dignitaries, having to take care of some little things, maybe participate in an audience with a Princess… Dear heavens Rarity, I think Stormchaser would look stunning in this, don't you think?"

You made sure to turn your back to her as you spoke, inspecting one or another mannequin and trying your best not to give her any impression that you are bothered whatsoever.

And you can feel her eyes digging at you, feeling her wave of excitement and suppressed curiosity from where you are standing.

If ever you needed any proof of how disheveled she must be at your off-hoof remark, you needed to go no further than to remember that she didn't answer you a question involving fashion, of all things. And by the way, on the subject of said question, you really do think your husband would look terrific in that overcoat.

"But as I was saying," you finally turn back to face her again, "I need a bit of an advice involving somepony who is going with me."

You made sure to turn towards her rather slowly, but you still caught a hint of her struggling to reassert control over her own face. But you pretend you didn't notice that as you continue to talk.

"You see, there is this mare that I will have accompanying me, to Canterlot," you make sure to repeat that name, seeing her neutral expression balk a little bit every time you say it, "and she simply must look her absolute best for when we arrive there. You know how first impressions work, after all."

You watch as she nods to you, almost mechanically, and you know exactly what is going on inside her head.

But you still give her a push, for good measure.

"And I thought, who better to have such a dress made than my good friend Rarity?" you say, seeing the glint in her eyes double in intensity at that, "this will be, after all, that mare's first debut into nobility, and we are staying there for a few weeks. So I couldn't picture her wearing anything that wasn't made by you."

You finish with a smile.

And you can see her hoofs trembling.

Yes, you can almost read her thoughts like an open book, and you even make sure to blink a few times to make sure that there are no Lantern shenanigans at work.

But it all fits by logic.

As much as you trust Rarity, and you know her to be an honestly good pony, it is no secret that she is completely enamored by the charms of Canterlot and of noble life. You make sure not to go into any of the more sordid details, but some days, when you visit her, you almost feel like you are talking to a mare who is in love when you describe some of your experiences during your early life in the capital.

And you can't rightly say that you don't understand her either. You have no idea how it must be to grow up in a place like Ponyville, but you can imagine how utterly different it must feel when somepony born and raised in this place hears about the bigger cities. Of course, many ponies are happy here, you know Rarity is happy living here at least, but you can see all too clearly that she dreams of greater things.

So you have a very good idea of what is going on inside her head right now. Especially after you simply trotted into her boutique on a sunny day and said that you are going to the Royal Castle for a reasonable amount of time with somepony, and that you would like to commission something from her for this occasion.

"Why, Velvet I'd love t-!", she stops her empathic answer mid-sentence, freezing for half a second as she realizes how much of her excitement is showing. She clears her throat for a few moments, her cheeks turning a slight shade of red, before she tries again. "I mean, I'd be delighted to, darling. Please, tell me all you have in mind for this mare friend of yours."

The two of you reach the measuring room, and her horn glows as she floats her "working kit" towards her, scissors, measuring tapes, a notebook with an elegant quill attached to it, and all sorts of other things making their way to her surrounded by the soft blue of her magic. And you can see in her whole demeanor, from posture to eyes to tone of voice, that she is clearly rearing to go.

The excitement inside of you, at the little ruse you are playing her, almost gets the best of you. You almost just up and say it, the practiced line of "pack your things girl, we're going to Canterlot!" almost jumping out of your mouth when you see the determination in her eyes.

But seeing her like this, with all this excitement about her, you just can't help but want to keep this up a for a little longer.

And you let a little more of your smile show.





"And you think this color would look good with her?" you ask, continuing to spur her on.

"Oh, absolutely darling! You did say your friend's coat is white, didn't you? Well, this will look simply fabulous on her then."

It didn't really take much effort, all things considered.

"Yes, her coat is something close to… I'd say Sweetie Belle's coat, she has this lovely look about her, pure like a diamond," you say, to which Rarity nods in approval. Completely oblivious to yet another hint you just gave her.

You started slowly. A small general description about your "friend", saying that she is an unicorn, slightly shorter than you, so on so on, and soon enough you were picking a base dress from the half-finished bases she had in a back room.

From there it didn't take much for you to get her on the raised podium and in front of the mirror, wearing the very same dress that you two were preparing "for your friend" and making the changes and adaptations even as the two of you talked. Rarity is elegantly mindful about your (very slight and unimportant, thank you very much) "physical limitation", so when you suggested to her that preparing the dress on a mannequin simply wouldn't do she quickly volunteered that she would model for the dress herself, wearing it in a heartbeat and stepping up on the raised podium.

Besides, you are indeed a bit taller than her, and you assured her that your friend is just her height.

A little more careful prodding, followed by the increasingly thorough descriptions about your "friend", and voila, the dress that Rarity is already wearing is nearly completed. A small group of measuring tapes are floating around her, and several color palettes for comparison are waiting in the middle range of her glowing horn.

"And her mane's color?" she asks, bring the rolls of dark blue cloth closer to her again.

"I would say…" you rub your chin with a hoof, as if trying to think on how to best describe the color that is very obviously right in front of you, "the same color as Stormchaser's… No, wait, perhaps a bit lighter? But she always has it wonderfully well kept, so it has this elegant flow to it."

She nods, levitating a few of the rolls away, and bringing the others closer to her, a concentrated intensity in her eyes.

Rarity is certainly struck with inspiration, and once again you are reminded how proficient and focused a pony can be when she is doing what she was born to do.

She is so focused, in fact, that she didn't even realize when you told her that your friend's cutie mark is a precious stone, she just nodded with a professional understanding and floated a small box of gems towards her, initiating a short discussion of exactly what crystals should be used on the hems of the dress. Heavens, she even used her own cutie mark while trying to make a point.

You made sure to be a little bit more elusive on the details you gave, after that, but you had already given up most of your hopes that the mare would figure it out herself.

"Are you sure you aren't going to prick yourself with that?" you ask honestly, as Rarity gently starts sewing another layer into the dress. While she is wearing it.

"Oh please darling, this much I could even do with my eyes closed. Now, you did say your friend is an unicorn, right? Any idea on a head accessory?"

The two of you continue for the better part of… more than an hour in fact, until the final product is right in front of you.

When the two of you finally agree that it is done, both of you look at the large mirror by the wall.

And you see the satisfied expression in Rarity's face as she looks at herself, as well as you notice something else there.

You can see it in her eyes as she looks in the mirror, dressed in a functional, yet absolutely gorgeous, short dress. Perfect for "an important meeting, followed by official business" as you explained to her. You can see herself looking at her own reflection, imagining the day where she will be using one of her own dresses for such an occasion.

You see the determination in her eyes as she pictures that day, which she is sure will happen someday, in which she will finally fulfill her dream. The day when her art will finally be noticed, and when she will dazzle everypony that matters with her mere presence and fine clothing.

It is the resolute expression of somepony with a goal, and the will to reach it. The dress might be a bit loose on her right now. Of course, since it is not meant for her and has not yet been properly fir for the pony who will wear it, but those small details are not enough to bother her even in the slightest.

However, you also see in her eyes the slight tinge of sadness in her face, borne from the realization that her dreams are still so far away. She is, after all, making a dress for somepony else to wear, a pony who will wear it while accompanying you to the very place she daydreams of going to.

She is still, you can see the thoughts forming as her proud smile is marred by a slightly deeper breath, an aspiring fashionista living in a small town, far away from where everything that she wants to be a part of is happening.

Well, you had her excited for a good while, and you think you have already allowed this to go on for long enough now. Much as you enjoyed your idea of a practical jest, and you did manage to trick Rarity into making her own dress without realizing it, you most surely do not enjoy seeing sadness in your friend's eyes, even if it is just a hint of it.

"I think it looks perfect," you say, nodding to yourself and turning around to leave the measuring room, "and I'm sure you will be able to adjust it in time for tomorrow."

You can picture her puzzled expression as you say that, and you hear her turn towards you, even though she is still somewhat pinned in place by the floating measurers and rolls of cloths that surround her.

"Whatever do you mean, Velvet?" she calls for you, confusion clear in her voice, "I'm sure I can have it done by tomorrow, but didn't you say you had your friend's measurements with you? I will need them, or I'll need her to come by this afternoon for me to finish this."

You stop walking at that, discreetly taking a deep breath so as to make sure your expression wouldn't crack.

And when you turn to face her, you look like it is you who have no idea of what she is talking about.

"I need to… give you the measurements…?" you ask, as if she had just told you that it is raining chocolate or some other absurd thing. You stare at her for a few moments, wearing a confused expression as if honestly trying to understand what she means, before you finally shrug, "anyways, don't forget to pack for two weeks. I'll have somepony pick you up tomorrow morning, alright?"

You say as you leave the measuring room, and make quick pace to the entrance of the boutique, before she even has the time to process what you just told her.

It is only a few moments after you close the boutique's door behind you that you hear her excited shriek.

You let out a satisfied sigh at that.
> Turn 6 - Results, part 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The very air feels different, and you know that it is not the mountainous height. There is a certain quality to it that is simply hard to describe. A faint smell that might be akin to the slightest tinge of several different perfumes at the same time, just enough to feel pleasant but not enough to actually be a bother. Or perhaps it is the impression that everything looks just a little bit brighter and shinier, which might be because everywhere you look is spotless clean, or because of all the marble and gold that is so abundant in the architecture.

Really, it is not a single thing that you can point a hoof at, but Canterlot has this feeling about it that is unmistakable.

You had almost forgotten about it. Truly, it has been a while, several years perhaps...

The train finally starts slowing down, and a small smile comes to your face as you try to guess what the next stage of Rarity's excitement will be like.

It started this morning. Well, technically it had started yesterday when you heard her scream after you left the boutique, but you really only started taking note of it this morning.

You picked her up not long after the sunrise. The next train to Canterlot wasn't due for a while, and your ticket allowed you passage to any train heading to Canterlot, so even if you missed it there wouldn't be much problem. But you didn't specify when in the morning you would come by to pick her up, so you figured that there would be no harm if you arrived early and helped her pack if needed.

Unnecessary, you realized as soon as you got there.

Rarity was already waiting outside of her boutique, with a grand amount of luggage by her side and bags, the metaphorical kind of bags, under her eyes. But as much as she may have looked tired, she most certainly didn't act like it.

"Darling, you wouldn't believe how hard inspiration struck me yesterday, after you left," was all she gave you for an answer.

And you politely nodded away the fact that she probably did not sleep a wink last night.

But you did ask her as a joke, while your servants carried her luggage to the carriage, if she did not have her beauty sleep. To which she seriously replied that she very carefully considered it, before weighting it against the amount of work that she would be able to do otherwise as well as the fact that she would be able to sleep in the train, and deciding for the latter. The confidence with which she said that last part giving you the faint impression that she knew exactly how much time traveling to Canterlot took, down to the minutes.

Well, you could see that she certainly was committed.

And true to her word she slept like a log during the trip itself, only waking up just now as you gently prod her.

Which brings you to the present and, as you had been hoping to witness, the next stage of her excitement as she slowly opens her eyes and sees Canterlot staring back at her from beyond the window of your train cabin.

You see several different expressions pass through her face as she processes the scenery before her. First an enchanted glow comes to her eyes together with a dumbfounded smile as she looks out through the window, then an even wider smile, hoofs on her cheeks and all, with a sound that you can swear is a squeal. Her heavy breathing lasts far less than you thought it would, however, and soon enough she settles down on a more determined expression.

Confident, brave, hopeful. You can practically hear her thinking "this is it, Rarity!" in the privacy of her head.

You give yourself a nod at that, cogs already turning inside your head as a discreet part of your mind takes in her resolve as particularly good news.

After all, despite her already excited state, she still has no idea of what you truly intent to do by bringing her here. She did stay up all night, probably making the final touches on a few of her own clothes, and she did bring a respectable amount of luggage. But as far as she knows, and as far as you have told her, you are simply bringing her to a sort of noble excursion, the general idea that you gave her while your servants worked on carrying her trunk was that you wanted her help while you conducted official business on the Royal Castle.

As it stands, she doesn't even suspect that you will also work towards making connection, making her connections, while you are here. So, seeing her face this whole situation as a challenge, instead of a tourism trip, is already a particularly good indicator that she will have her wits about her.

Which is great, because despite your intentions you… don't really have a plan on how you are going to do it. In all honesty you are hoping that you will identify an opportunity when you see it, and that Rarity will be able to follow up on your lead.

The train comes to a complete stop, and you make your way out of your seat and towards the door of the cabin where the two of you are.

"Shall we?" you say as you open the door with a glow of your horn, realizing that the mare is still entranced with the sights of the train station.

"Oh, right!" she answers, with the clear tone of somepony who had just snapped out of a reverie, before following you.

You make sure to pass by Ponpon's cabin to double check that she knows where you are all heading, then you make your way out of the train with Rarity in tow.





"Rarity, you're gawking," you say in an off-hoof manner, not really being able to hide your smile.

"I am most certainly n-! By Celestia, would you look at the gems on that mare's necklace!" Rarity tries to answer you, only to interrupt herself with yet another excited cry.

The two of you are inside of another carriage, this one being much larger than the one you have in Ponyville. But you are alone with Rarity this time, as Ponpon and the rest of your entourage will be bringing your things after they are unloaded from the train.

You eye the mare as she continues to act almost like a filly, her face nearly glued to the carriage's window as she gawks (yes Rarity, you are gawking) at the streets outside.

Until she finally notices the amused attention you are giving her, her cheeks taking a rosed tone as she slowly inches her way back to the center of her seat.

And you see her eyes go a little wider suddenly, some sort of realization coming to her, posture changing as if a bucket of cold water had just been poured over her.

You see her look around herself, this time with a little more attention, taking in the rich interior of the carriage. She looks at everything for a few seconds, the dark wood gleaming with polish, the fancy cushion of the seats, the windows emblazoned with your family's symbol.

Until she finally looks at you, sitting opposite from her.

She seems slightly shocked all of a sudden, which makes you raise an eyebrow.

But you have known her for a little while now, and you think that this means…

"Velvet darling, I don't think I have properly thanked you for all of this so far," she says, her words coming out as if she was suddenly conscious about a lot of things.

Yes. You think that she has just realized that this whole situation isn't a dream. You think that the reality of her being here is finally beginning to settle in her mind.

"I mean, I know how I gush about Canterlot all the time, but I never really meant that I wanted you to do any of this so… thank you," she finishes, her expression honestly embarrassed.

And maybe just slightly uncomfortable.

Which, of course, will not do.

"Well, I would like you to believe me when I say that I am bringing you here because you are my friend. But if it puts you more at ease, you can just think that I'm bringing you here because this whole thing would be absolutely tedious otherwise, so you are helping me out far more than I am doing anything for you," you finish with a wink.

Being thankful is fine, as much as you don't think you are warranted any gratefulness from her part. Everything you are doing, almost everything you have in your life, in fact, is just by virtue of you having been borne in your family, so you are not really at ease with her feeling gratitude towards you. Not that you will ever let that show, of course.

But you really hope she knows that you are doing this because you are her friend. The time you spend with her isn't some privilege you are entitled to because you were borne a noble, instead it is something that is far more precious to you.

"Besides, we haven't even started day one of our visit here, so we can thank each other once this is all over," you finish.

And you can see her confident smile return with that.

"By the way, can you tell me exactly what it is that you will be doing here? You already told me about the letter and the efforts to locate the Princess, but is there anything more specific?" she asks, deftly changing the subject once the matter is settled.

"I don't know either," you answer honestly, "I did send a letter ahead letting them know we will arrive tomorrow, but I'm as lost about this whole thing as you are…"

You see her tilt her head at what you just said.

"We will arrive… tomorrow? But we are already in Canterlot."

"Oh, right, how can I explain… Well, travel around Equestria can be slow sometimes, after all Ponyville is the closest city to Canterlot and it did take us a few hours to get here by train. So it's common practice for the day you arrive to be reserved for settling in and all that," you try to explain it as briefly as possible, making sure not to go into details about hierarchy and order of arrival and all that, "unless the matter is urgent, of course. And that's good, isn't it? Refreshing as your nap was, I'm sure you'll prefer to be well rested for tomorrow."

You see her nod at your short explanation, and at the part about being well rested, a short "ohhh…" escaping her lips as you talk.

"But you are coming here to help in the search for a Princess. Isn't that the sort of thing that would be considered urgent?"

"Maybe. But it's not like we will find Princess Luna in a few short hours following our arrival," you answer with a shrug.

"Fair enough…"

You can see her thinking about the whole situation. As much as this whole thing is obvious to you, you ought to remember that this is really being Rarity's first time interacting with the higher workings of Equestria.

You make a mental note to be a bit more mindful, and maybe to give her a lot more of hints and tidbits of information whenever you have the chance. You can see that she has the wits to take in all of it, but there are is no small amount of pitfalls and subtle traps, or plain old conventions and cultural workings, that you should make sure to coach her through.

"It's the sort of thing you will have to get used to," you say, leaning back a little more on your seat.

To which she lets out a short laugh.

"As much as I'd love to get used to it, it's not like I'm a noble. It just so happens that I'm lucky enough to be accompanying you, Velvet."

"Be that as it may…" you say, with a tone that sounds like you are conceding her the point.

Little does she know, you think privately…





Approaching the Royal Castle, even you must admit, is an experience on its own. You have already been to the Royal Castle before, but not nearly enough times for you not to feel a little excited yourself.

Canterlot is a city built on the side of a mountain, and several architectural particularities inevitably follow that quirk. Surprisingly though, physical space in Canterlot is not exactly at a premium, thanks to the sheer industrial capabilities of earth ponies.

However, this does not mean that anypony can simply dig at the wall of the mountain whenever they want to make space for themselves. No, this is another thing that makes Canterlot what it is, the purposeful way in which it is built and expanded.

Habitable surface on the city will only come to be if it is deliberately carved, so whenever more space is needed, entire districts and levels will be carved out from the side of the mountain in great public projects.

But those newly expanded areas are not made available as "empty space", they are instead occupied with purpose and design in mind, with the end result being that the city as a whole grows in a planned manner, not being subjected to the haphazard growth that normal cities often suffer.

And you can see that clearly as your carriage makes its way towards the Royal Castle.

You pass by the great habitational rings, dotted with parks and fountains, houses built out of marble and the white rock of the mountain itself. Your carriage then passes by the great rivers of meltwater, that feed the grand waterfall and the valleys around the mountain itself, their calm yet steady streams spinning great watermills of the industrial district you go through.

Then the bustling economical centers give way to the small mansions as you get closer and closer to the castle itself, the eternal struggle to show off means and status causing the noble families to compete for the regions closer to the Royal Castle itself. Small mansions packed "tightly together" (by noble standards, that is) at first, followed by the larger and more impressive manors, their gardens sometimes larger than entire blocks on the lower parts of the city.

And finally, you arrive at the Royal Castle itself.

You do not mind at all, and Rarity even less so, the fact that you are asked to leave your carriage and proceed through the walkway after you are through the gates. The Royal Castle, after all, is a sight to behold.

Great towers adorned with gold and gems point towards the sky, with rich and colorful stained glasses on some of their windows. Entire platforms jut away from the mountain, supporting beautiful edifices and statues of heroic ponies, as well as gardens and other lovingly maintained places.

But its beauty, however grand, is also marred by the signs of the recent… happenings, involving Princess Luna. Some of the towers have scaffolds next to them, signs of repairs or outright reconstruction still visible even a full month after the occurrence, as much as great amounts of effort have obviously been poured to have the Royal Castle back to its original splendor as soon as possible.

Other small details also come to mind as you look with more attention. You had heard, for example, that Princess Luna was gifted an observatory upon her return, but you see no signs of any particularly tall tower with a telescope on top of it…

"Your accommodations will be in this building, my ladies," the armored mare who had been accompanying you snaps you out of your thoughts, "I will take you to your rooms, and will make sure that your entourage finds you as soon as they arrive."

You could see Rarity's ears perking up when she was called a "lady", but you simply nod at the royal guard.

"I will be making a short visit to some relatives after we are settled, we did send word that we would only be arriving tomorrow, after all, and our belongings have not yet arrive on our second carriage," you say to the royal guard, to which she nods curtly, "so if Rarity here decides she would like to take a stroll around the capital herself, could you kindly have that second carriage summoned for her?"

The armored mare gives you an affirmative answer, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Rarity, however, shoots you an outright questioning gaze.

A gaze that you simply answer with a wink. But you privately wonder what exactly she balked at. Was it because you just said you would leave her for a while, or because you just told her she would have a carriage at her own beck and call?

Whichever it is, you are somewhat curious at what she will do this afternoon without you.

And the part of you that is dreading to visit your family grabs at that curiosity even more tightly, willing the afternoon to pass quickly so you may return to the company of a friend sooner rather than later.









Whatever hesitation Rarity had, it dissolved quickly enough.

You accompanied her to the rooms the two of you will be staying in, and then you double-checked that the royal guards knew that they should send your servants that way when they arrived.

And then you simply told Rarity that you had to pay your home, your Canterlot home that is, a visit, and that you would (hopefully) return before nightfall. But of course, you also said that you fully expected her to do whatever she pleased in the meantime.

The part of her that thought she would be with you all the time was convinced of otherwise without much effort.

However, the part of her that outright refused to accept using the second carriage, when it arrived, required a little more convincing.

But after some careful wording, as well as some subtle hints that she "would make you look bad" if she just walked around, finally did the trick.

You must privately admit, though, that the last part was a bit of a lie. You couldn't care less about your image, truth be told. But you can't build a proper image of Rarity if she is seen walking around the noble part of Canterlot like some common pony. Word might not spread quickly about such mundane matters, but if you were successful it would still take as little as bumping into a single noble with a particularly good memory for stupid gossips to start flourishing later on, and that would not do.

So, that was something else she had better get used to.

But that was earlier today. Right now you have… other things to worry about.



The gates of your family's mansion open before the carriage. Your family's crest, and the stallions pulling the carriage, being more than enough to let you in without further ado.

You are being expected, you know. The letter you had sent ahead of you being both an indication that there ought to be chariots and servants waiting for you at the train station, as well as to signal that, as customs dictates, you would be coming to pay your respects.

You hear the gates being closed behind the carriage, and a bundle of memories come back to you in a slow and unpleasant trickle.

Early memories of a strict upbringing, the tutors not managing to be nearly as demanding as your father was, although you still had a good relationship with him back then.

Flashes of the ever-increasing weight of demands and expectations as you grew older, with two new ones being invented whenever you failed one. Four particularly disappointing attempts at entering the School for Gifted Unicorns coming to mind, under the disapproving gaze of your parents.

The echo of years bound to your bed with nothing but books for company, and even that only on the days when your leg didn't decide to simply cramp up for no reason, until the family's physician arrived and…

The carriage stops moving, and the doors are opened from the outside, you walk down the short steps and see a trio of maids is waiting for you, the large doors of the mansion itself open behind them.

"Lady Velvet Covers," the one in the middle says respectfully, and with a short bow, "the Master, Velvet Hill, is expecting you."

You nod and signal for her to lead the way.

But for all the finery of their uniform, the elegance of her curtsy and the pleasantness of her tone, you still can't help but feel a… heavy atmosphere as you walk into the mansion.

You wonder if these three maids are happy working here. You wonder if any of the servants you pass by are.

You recall Soft Sweep's history, and you wonder which of the maids around you are the ones who were kind to her.

You hope that the answer is "all of them", but with the weight that the walls around you are putting in your heart you can't help but think otherwise. This place, you know from experience, is… not a place where kindness is common.

Not long after you finally reach the great hall, the one that has less than two fireplaces and several comfortable sofas, cabinets filled with books, and all other pleasant material objects strewn around. But even with all the windows being opened, you still feel like there is some sort of shadow covering the place, as if you are walking here in the middle of the night.

You pass by a few… not exactly familiar sights, but you pass by a few things which you recognize anyways, even if only in part.

A large painting can be seen over of one of the fireplaces, your family painted on it.

Or rather, the Velvet family painted on it. You see your father, your mother and a young colt between them. There is no sign of you in it, or in any other picture in the great hall, whatsoever.

Over the second fireplace there is also something equally large, but here you see a woven tapestry showing your family's genealogical tree.

You let out an exasperated sigh at that, and you make a point to stop to give it a better look, the maids accompanying you stopping as well without a word.

You eye the names with contempt. Velvet Horseshoe, your great-grandfather, is the first name on the very top, and his painted picture dominates a good part of one of the walls nearby. A stallion known for his political capabilities and, above all else, his ruthlessness.

A few places down is your father's name, the father who raised you as he would raise his own successor, until you disappointed him one too many times.

Next to his name is your mother's, that seems to be misaligned almost as if it had been added as an afterthought. Your mother, who saw all of that happen and simply watched.

And what you don't see is several other names that should be there.

Your older brother is nowhere to be found, even though he is your father's firstborn. You idly think that you can remember the day in which your father finally convinced you that he was less important than you, simply because he had wings instead of a horn. You think you remember believing him, that having been in your younger days when you were still daddy's little girl.

Other family members, as well, are nowhere to be seen. But most of them were unicorns, and you can't exactly remember who they were or what happened, you can only recall that there were once more names there, and now there are less.

This is the Velvet family, you think. Merchants and manipulators who bought their way into nobility generations ago, and who are the very embodiment of what a pony with means can do if he is ruthless.

You eye the place in the tapestry where your name should be, and you cannot find it either. You see the name of Stormchaser's family written on the side of the tapestry, with a list of other families who married into the Velvets, and you can't decide if you feel offended or satisfied by the fact that your father had your name taken away from the thing.

Well, he did make it abundantly clear, through actions and demeanor, that after he had given up on "raising you properly" you amounted to no better than coin, one that he thankfully was able to use to buy a marriage.

And you don't see Stormchaser or Silky Stream there either. Of course they wouldn't be, he would never allow the faces or names of pegasi to mar his family's mansion…

You shake your head and move along, his office is not far now, and the sooner you get this done with, the better.

The maids finally reach the tall doors of the central office, one of them entering it without knocking, probably to let your father know you that you have arrived. You idly wonder if he will have you wait, just to waste your time, or if he also wants to get this over with.

"Master Velvet Hill will be seeing you now, Lady Velvet Covers," the maid quicky exits the door, signaling for you to go in.

Well, that answers at least one of your questions. You take a deep breath, and make your way into the office.



Velvet Hill is a unicorn of dark brown coat, much darker than yours, and greying mane. His aging features causes him to look like he has a permanent scowl about his face, or perhaps he is always scowling and his age merely accentuates it.

There are several other tiny things about him, that make him look just a little more intimidating, that signals that he is just a little more dangerous than he ought to be, from his posture to the way he glares without appearing outright aggressive.

But most of all, what causes a lump to form in your throat is the fact that you know he does all of this by choice.

You know that he can be the most pleasant stallion you have ever met. You know that he can be an amicable pony or a supportive father.

But only when he wants to.

He can be the most attentive and strict of parents, if he believes his daughter has the potential to be useful to him. He can be caring and amicable, if he believes that such a thing will yield the most preferable results.

The same way you know he can simply order everything a pony has to be taken away from them, with a word or a stroke of his pen or even a meaningful glance, if he has the mind to do it.

He has his forelegs over his table, hoofs together and supporting his chin. But his eyes are looking straight into yours.

"Covers," he finally says, his tone somber and serious.

"Hill," you answer back, trying your best not to show your discomfort.

Not that you believe he can't see it.

"I will be in Canterlot for a while, and have come to pay respects," you finish saying, doing a light bow as you speak.

It grates on you. Much as you tried imagining, you had no idea how you would feel when you saw him again, and above all else you can feel that it grates on your nerves. After all these years, with the life you built in Ponyville, the happy life you built in Ponyville, you thought you would be able to do this sort of thing more easily.

But instead, it just feels harder and more wrong. Knowing how easy it can feel to love somepony and have a healthy relationship just makes everything in this mansion, in your family, feel a little more twisted.

"I have read your letter," he answers back, dismissively, but says nothing else.

Leaving you unsure of exactly what to do.

But you already had an idea in mind, and it might be something he will acquiesce if you word it properly.

"I will be spending a good amount of time in the Royal Castle," you say, slowly, making sure that you do not trip in your own words or reveal something that you really don't feel like bringing into the light, "might I ask if you have information that might be useful?"

You can see him scrutinize you a little more, clopping his hoofs a single time while he thinks.

"You would know what you have to if you didn't keep your underachieving head stuck in your little world," he answers, with the tone of disapproval that you are well used to hearing. You think for a moment that he will simply stop at that, but much to your surprise he continues, "but…"



[Princess Celestia's second attempt at rallying the nobility]

[Roll: 29 – 10 (dissent) = 19]

[27 -> 19, things actually got worse]



"But Canterlot is in a quiet state of uproar, among the high nobles at least. The few of them who actually pledged to help were chased or pressured away by their indignant peers," his eyes narrow, as if he was saying something obvious, "I hope you understand what this means, and that you will reap benefits for the Velvet family with this… work of yours."

His tone makes it clear, of course, that by "Velvet family" he means "myself".

You digest his words for a few more seconds, before cautiously giving him another short bow and signaling that you will leave. Seeing that he didn't say or order you anything, you quickly make your way out before he changes his mind.



The doors of his office close behind you, and you feel… perhaps the best word would be "unpleasant", but only because you honestly lack for a better word to use.

Your father, this place, everything around you, have too many memories attached to them. Too much time wasted learning all the wrong things, too much misguided hatred felt as if it was natural, and far too much pressure and control for you to ever be able to breathe a single breath in here without feeling like there is something pressuring your ribcage inwards.

However, you also realize that you are not feeling an angry sort of confusion like you know you would have felt years ago. Instead, the storm in your mind is borne from the more mature point of view you are warranted.

You did not simply lock away all your memories from this place or your early life. Quite on the contrary, you actually had the time to think about all of it over the years. You had the benefit of time, and the perspective of having a daughter and a happy family, to be able to analyze a lot of your memories and simply come to the conclusion of how… absolutely wrong a lot of things were.

You have had that perspective for years now.



However, even though you know all of this, it still didn't make this meeting just now, short as it was, any easier… quite on the contrary.



But this still gives you an idea, involving your own family. Of course, you absolutely will not approach your father again unless you absolutely have to, but this doesn't mean you can't try and get in touch with somepony else.

They are still family, after all.

You think for a few moments, eyeing the several pictures around you as you walk away from the great hall, and decide that you will try to get in touch with…



[] Velvet Wings: Your older brother. A pegasus, as his name suggests, who despite being your family's firstborn was never truly its heir. He was kept close by for appearances sake, you realized only years later, so the two of you grew up together, but he left as soon as he was old enough. He never truly broke ties with the family, since being a noble, even if only in name, has its advantages. You are older now, and you have a better… understanding of his circumstances. Time to rekindle this old connection. (Velvet Wings is a traveler, so he might not know as much about Canterlot's current antics, and might not be too politically savvy. But never being in one place for too long might have given him other sources of wisdom.)

[] Velvet Steppes: Your uncle. Your father's younger brother who, now you realize, must have lived in your father's shadow his whole life. But let it never be said that he was bitter for it, as every memory you have of him paints him as a lively and agreeable stallion. You know he is in Canterlot, with everything that has been going on, but you are not exactly sure of what he has been up to otherwise. (Velvet Steppes is… you have no idea, actually, but by the hugs and jokes and general good humor that you remember him for, he definitely is the approachable kind of pony, especially for family.)

[] Soft Charm: Your mother… if a mare who allows your father to do what he does can even be considered one. She was already meek and absent when you were young, and that was only aggravated after your accident, added to the fact that hindsight can sometimes make you realize… unpleasant things. But you are a grown mare now, so maybe you just might be able to have something resembling a polite conversation with her. (If anypony in your family has influence and pull in Canterlot, it's her, barring your father of course. But approaching her will be… personally difficult for you.)

[] Velvet Pride: Your younger brother, although you are not even sure if he knows that you exist. You know that your father will be displeased if you try and contact him, and he all but told you more than once that he does not want you to get in touch with him, but said displeasure will only come to pass if he finds out, and you have learned a thing or two about avoid being caught… (Maybe you want to rebel against your father, and in some way hamper his work. Maybe you just want to be a good older sister, and make sure that he is not… going through what you did. He probably won't know much about anything outside of the mansion's walls, but if he is as bright as you think he is then he might be the very best source of what happens inside it.)
> Turn 6 - Results, part 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your visit to your family's mansion took a lot less time than you thought it would, all things considered.

Well, you still wish you didn't have to come here at all. But you're already past that phase in your life. Nowadays you know what fights to pick, and what discomforts you would rather swallow than be stabbed by.

Still, not something you will be doing again anytime soon if you can avoid it.

And part of the reason for that is because even that little was enough to tire you out. You can feel your body heavy with the unpleasant weight of memories that the mansion invoked from the deeper parts of your mind. The large paintings on the walls, looking down at you disappointingly, the long corridors flanked by those tightly shut doors, the harsh words of your father, coupled with the knowledge that despite all the edge in them he was still being merely dismissive.

A memory of how your father is like when he is truly disappointed rears its ugly head from a corner of your mind, but you manage to smother it before the scene starts playing in your head.

You are back in your room less than two hours after you left, and the sun is still high up in the sky, but considering how worn out you are feeling it might as well be close to nightfall. You are somewhat pleased that you don't find Rarity, hoping that she took your unsubtle advice and went for a stroll around the capital. A carriage stroll, mind you. Because although you are sure that she would have picked up on your mood and helped you feel better, you honestly don't want her to. You brought her here, among many other things, so she can enjoy herself, not for her to see you sulk after a short visit to your estranged father.

So you decide to take it easy. You do a light check on your luggage and settle down for the rest of the afternoon. Nothing like a little time in your own company to help you forget about all that recent unpleasantness.



[Rarity's outing]

[Roll: 35 + ?? (Intrigue) = ??]



Rarity returns a lot later, not long before sunset in fact, and she is as giddy as you hoped she would be.

And for your own part you feel sufficiently refreshed, with no outward signs of your prior mood showing on your face or your demeanor. To the point where you can share in her terrific mood as she talks in depth about her first real impression of the capital, since she wasn't making a beeline from the train station to the Royal Castle this time.

You do notice, however, that from what Rarity is saying she most likely took the "scenic route" around the noble districts. And for all the excited conversation the two of you have, not even once does she mention actually leaving the chariot, so you can only picture her acting in the same excited-filly manner she was when you were on your way to the Royal Castle.

A bit of a shame, a corner of your mind thinks, that she didn't risk doing anything. But the part of you that just wants her to enjoy herself quickly quiets those thoughts down.

There will be time for that, you know, no need to rush it.









The two of you wake up in the following morning and a subtle tension settles over both you and Rarity, a silent anticipation that you share as you wonder what will come next. And that is because… well, how can you explain it?

The Royal Castle is an extremely large place, and it stands on the very center of a district-sized level that is unofficially known as the Royal District.

Unofficially because… actually, nopony really knows why Princess Celestia never officialized the name.

But that is besides the point. What matters is that although the Royal Castle IS hosting the core efforts of the search for Princess Luna, you and Rarity had no contact with said efforts so far, on your short stay here. The Royal Castle, after all, also houses the main garrison of the Royal Guard on its annexed barracks, a monumental library slash magical research complex, a royal court, and all other manners of places which are habitually populated by nobles and public servants going about their affairs. Said buildings are also, more often than not, connected to the Royal Castle itself by some underground passage, large corridors fitting for royalty which were carved out of the very mountain for convenience's sake.

And said passages make the subject of when the Royal Castle ends, and where the rest of the district begins, a complicated one. Some argue that the Royal Castle is in fact the entire complex of buildings, while others say it is only the main castle where the Princesses reside. You hear that such debates are a favorite classic among the higher nobility, in fact…

It strikes you as funny, you think, of how fitting all of this actually is. To the casual observer the Royal Castle, and the district around it, are a shinning beacon of organization and magnificence. However, for those in the know, it is a haphazard maze of underground corridors that "gets the job done", and a timeless source for dispute between opinions.

Which really makes it the ideal mirror of the heart of Equestria…

But the point is: none of you know what to expect because the castle is so unbelievably large that neither of you caught so much as a whiff about how the search efforts are being conducted.

"I know I'm asking you this more out of nervousness than anything else but… what do you think?" Rarity snaps you out of your musing, and you turn your perfectly schooled face to look at her.

Of course, you are maybe as nervous as she is, judging by her voice, but there is no reason for her to know that. It would only add to her own tension, after all.

"I think it looks wonderful," you answer honestly, "and not bringing out the big guns today, I see?"

Rarity is standing in front of a mirror, looking at herself with a tense expression for what must be the fifth time. She is impeccably dressed in a short black skirt and a modern looking white shirt with long sleeves, her mane bound in a ponytail.

In fact, you realize as you analyze her whole attire more carefully, the best way you could describe her would be as having a "secretary" look of sorts. Quite the opposite of what you expected, considering how she spent an entire night working on the dress you tricked her into making two days ago.

"Well, this will be our first impression, but I am here to help you out so…" she passes a hoof on her mane, "I thought it would be best to look the part, considering it will be paperwork from what you said."

You nod at that, pretending to ignore the fact that this is her way of saying she doesn't want to stand out.

Heavens, if Rarity doesn't want to stand out on her very first impression then she truly must be a pile of nerves. You make a mental note that you ought to keep an eye out for her.

"The both of us look ready enough then, shall we get going?" you gently ask her, while you slowly make your way towards the door.

Slowly enough to give her a final moment of hesitation, which she makes good use of before you finally hear a more determined answer from her.

"Yes, let's do this."





For all the size you know the Royal District to have, the two of you were indeed lodged in the castle itself, so it wasn't that long of a trek. Regal Effort, the armored mare of the Royal Guard who you can see will be accompanying you during your stay, quickly guided you to where the search for Princess Luna was being coordinated from.

You had your letter with you, of course, but the presence of the guard was more than enough to give you access to the deeper parts of the castle.

And you eventually arrive at a place that you think is normally used as a dining hall. Regal Effort opens a great set of double doors to reveal a grand hall, flanked by tall pillars and illuminated by windows of stained glass. On its very center stands a disproportionately long table, at least twice the size of the one you have on your own estate, and of far, far greater quality, you can see even from the distance you are at.

But you would only be able to surmise this place was once a dining hall from those things alone, in everything else it looks like what you would expect a barracks on war footing to be. The only exception being that there are more books and maps where you would have expected to see weapons.

The central table is covered in countless maps of Equestria, both of the continent as a whole and of its surrounding lands, as well as more detailed versions of specific regions. Several cabinets filled with scrolls and books can be seen almost everywhere, clearly indicating that entire sections of libraries were brought to this place, perhaps even at the slightest mention that a book or map on their collection could be of use.

And you see members of the Royal Guard, enough perhaps to fit an entire platoon… company, legion, whatever, you are not really savvy on their working. But you see a lot of them, armored or uniformed, most of them without their helmets and pouring over tomes and maps together with their peers.

"If the ladies will follow me, please," Regal Effort says without breaking stride, already used to the sight before her, it seems.

Her nonplussed reaction, of course, is the opposite of yours and Rarity's.

"By Celestia, it really looks like they are giving their all on this…" you hear Rarity whisper, as she follows behind you and the armored mare.

"By Celestia indeed…" you agree.

Much like in the Canterlot-region hub, the one where you met Captain Chalkhoof, the hierarchy of this place also makes itself clear as you take a better look around you. The older and larger cabinets seem to be closer to the central table, their contents clearly taken from more important libraries, with more ponies around them checking and cross-referencing maps.

And on the table itself, also, you see the great culmination of the search efforts. The maps over the table have various marks over them, ink and small banners indicating the location of search parties, supply lines and all things logistics. Around said maps, of course, are the ponies who seem to be in charge, the markings on their armor slightly more… larger than of those around them?

They look more important than the other guards, and you clearly need to brush up on your knowledge on the military of Equestria.

"Captain," Regal Effort salutes the pony on the edge of the table, confirming your suspicions, "Lady Velvet Covers and Lady Rarity are here, at the behest of your summons."

Of his summons? So, this was the guard that wrote you?

"Thank you Regal, I'll take it from here," he says, dismissing the mare and turning to the two of you.

You take a better look at this Captain, and you must say that… you don't really dislike what you see.

At the very end of the table, now walking towards you, is a large unicorn stallion. He must be almost as large as Comet Feet, and is dressed in an impeccable golden armor, his helmet forgotten back on the table in favor of letting his long cerulean mane flow freely. He is handsome, you must admit, and his chiseled expression is quick to express both his own confidence as well as the fact that he is clearly in charge of the whole place.

Not bad, you think. Not. Bad. At. All.

A slight look to your side reveals that Rarity is not gawking at the rather impressive specimen before you, much to your relief, but you can see that her eyes also have that small glint. A glint she is hiding well, but still a glint of…

Actually, what about you?! You mentally slap yourself out of it. Focus, Velvet, you are a respectable married mare!

"Thank you so much for answering my letter, I am Captain Shining Armor, and this is the place from where we are coordinating the search efforts on the kingdom as a whole," he says with a short bow.

"Charmed," you answer with a curtsy of your own, "you may just call me Velvet, if you don't mind, and this here is my friend Rarity," you introduce the two of you.

"I don't think I recall Chalkhoof mentioning your friend on his report," he says thoughtfully, "but anypony available to help is welcome, especially if that is a pony you think is good enough to bring with you. Follow me, let me show you how things are going."

The absolute unit of a stallion Captain Shining Armor turns around and bids the two of you to follow him to the central table, and you start making your way towards it, but not before…

Rarity lets out a muted yelp as you give her a subtle kick, snapping out of her own personal… "shock", and following after you as well.

"What about we get to work now," you whisper to her as she quickly trots towards you, "and leave the dreaming for later?"

"By Celestia," you hear her answer, as she discreetly nods an affirmation, "by all means but, lets… but talk about dreams, right?"

You allow yourself a slight not at that, but still put some effort into focusing yourself.



You make your own best to keep true to your words, and you slowly strangle the Grail!Velvet back to the dark corners of your mind, so that Winter!Velvet can get to the calm mindspace appropriate for the work to come.

Wait, when in the heavens did you start thinking like that…?



"So as the two of you can see," Shining Armor finally says, "the situation is rather… complicated."

It took him a good part of an hour to simply get the two of you up to speed about the whole situation.

At first this struck you as something strange. Yes, you did receive an invitation to help organize the national efforts of the search, but in all honesty you thought you would be tasked with a particular errand. After all, organizing logistical runs or filtering useful information from reports coming from several different search hubs already are, individually, daunting tasks on their own, even if you have a competent staff with you.

So you have to admit that you were somewhat taken aback when the Captain started putting you up to speed about everything.

The ponies who are with you around the table were his officers, and each of them seem to have an individual task that you personally would have given to a group of at least five ponies. It is no understatement to say that this is the very core of the search efforts, because from what you can surmise this is the place where everything…

Logistical supplies, distribution of idle volunteers, orders for search patterns, reports about dangerous sightings, filtering of useful information, relevant topographical updates, requests for specialized aid, emergency missives…

Where everything is concentrated, filtered, decided upon and then relayed back in the form of orders, decisions or support to the subsidiary hubs around Equestria.

Coupled with the fact that, this being Canterlot, this is also the greatest trove of up to date maps or other documents that could be of use.

So to put it simply, not only do they have a gigantic problem to tackle, they are also horribly understaffed.

It also doesn't help that, although you can see a small army of guards around you, there isn't a single poshly dressed pony in sight. There isn't a single civilian, noble or otherwise, lending their aid here.

And you think you can understand Shining Armor's words a little better. Of course any help is appreciated when you are working completely alone.

"Complicated doesn't even begin to describe it…" you say, trying your best to keep your voice level as you look at the maps laid out on the table, flanked by towers of reports, requests and other means of control and communication in the forms of scrolls and papers.

You look towards Rarity, sitting opposite to the Captain, and you see that she is having a bit more trouble in maintaining her calm. But you can't really blame her, in fact you feel like you should apologize to her for bringing her here at all. The mare is way out of her depth…

"Indeed…" the stallion looks at you, and then at Rarity, and you can see a glint of trepidation in his eyes, "but, well, any help at all is appreciated, even if it's just helping us think how to begin working around this whole situation."

You understand what Shining Armor means, he is asking you if there is a smarter way to do what they are doing. But what in the heavens does he expect you to do? What in the heavens did that blasted Chalkhoof wrote in his blasted letter to make Shining Armor think you have any hopes of helping here?

Sure, you can help, but as an individual mare. You can get a stack of reports and start turning it into information, you can organize the general efforts of a search party. But what you can't do is an amount of work that you would need ten ponies to get done!

You take a deep, long breath, trying to calm yourself down as you look towards the central map, the one detailing the current position of the search parties.

The one with a single marble statue, of a white alicorn, currently placed over the icy peaks of the Yaket Range.

She would have known what to do… of course she would, but Princess Celestia is not here, she can't afford to be here. You can surmise, if that statue truly represents her current position, that she has taken upon herself to search the farthest and most dangerous places, and that corroborates with the rumors you heard about the Princess not having been seen in Canterlot for weeks now.

You wonder if she actually weighted her options before making that decision, you wonder if she analyzed whether if she would be more useful organizing the search from her castle, or if she would be more useful out in the fields participating in the search herself.

Maybe she did, and came to the conclusion that her powers would be put to better use like this. Or maybe she didn't, and this is a demigoddess' equivalent of frantically trying to keep herself busy.

Well, she is not here right now. You are, and you will be damned if you return to Ponyville without saying you tried your best to do something, anything.

You take a deep breath, and close your eyes.

This problem, this whole operation, was already understaffed and overwhelmed before you arrived, so there is really no need to let it overwhelm you as well.

So you decide that you will…



[From Chaos, Order. Incremental +20 thresholds]

[Roll: 89 + 10 (Stewardship) + 5 (Rarity, out of her depth) = 104]



You will do this very… calmly.

"Rarity…" you say, massaging the sides of your head with your hoofs, "would you kindly ask somepony to call Ponpon here? I believe she was lodged in the Servant's Quarters… Tell her that I will be here for a while, she will know what it means…"

You take another deep breath, hearing the mare answer something before she trots away. You can tell that part of her was relieved for having something to do that she understands, that is within her reach of doing.

You have the impression that a lot of ponies here would feel like that too, if properly guided.

But this will not be as simple as organizing a small search camp, like you did with Chalkhoof.

No… this will take a lot more time…





The first problem you have to tackle is that of usefulness.

These ponies around you are Royal Guards, their cutie marks tell tales about skills involving combat, or about some intuitive desire to protect or to be there for somepony else. They are not suited for paperwork. The few of them suited for that are the ones already around the table, Shining Armor's officers, his lieutenants and the likes.

But even they are only… partly used to it, at best.

So you will have them do something they are actually good at.

"This map," you point at the great map where the search parties, all the search parties, are being tracked, small banners representing their next assigned area, around the small tents that represented their hubs, "I want three more of them."

That raises a few eyebrows, but you don't even bat an eye at that, and you see from the corner of your eye that somepony has already been signaled to bring you what you just asked for.

"Shining Armor, bring me your lead… sergeant? Your best pony, whatever you call it, of each species, bring them here. Pegasus, unicorn and earth pony. I want them each to draft me a map of where they think their own species is best suited for searching."

"But the search parties are already being segregated on each camp, what good would that be?"

"They are being segregated, yes, but they are still being used locally," you emphasize the last word, "if you look at the map, the search parties are basically focusing around their own camps and then expanding outwards. They are covering ground, but not in an efficient way."

You see the stallion eye the map, his face clearly trying to see what exactly you mean by that, or what exactly is wrong with that.

"There is also the fact that certain camps, like Cloudsdale for example, has a lot more pegasi than the others. And a pegasus, obviously, has better range on their search. So if we send out instructions on where each species is more useful, keeping the bigger picture in mind…" you prod him helpfully.

"You are thinking about having the camps cover each other's areas?" he says, eyeing the map more closely.

To which you simply nod, while you float a marker towards the map and start drawing up another grid over the already existing areas of the search camps.

"Almost. Earth ponies have more stamina, so we can leave the great outdoors and plains to them, mostly. Unicorn groups are better suited for whatever caves we find, or the forests we know aren't dangerous. Pegasi can get to places far beyond their camp's expectations. We need three maps, one for each species, and in the end we need to overlap their individual grids so they complement each other. No area left unsearched."

You see the Captain look at the map with a completely new expression. Good, he got the gist of it, then.

You can also see that he realizes that this will not be put into practice neither today, nor tomorrow. A plan will need to be hashed out, and then orders will have to be sent down the line. But this sort of thing is something his guards will know how to plan, and that is already a better use of their time than whatever else they might be trying to do right now.

He nods towards you, and goes in the direction from where the trio of maps you requested are being hauled from, and you hear him call for a few specific names as he goes about it.





You feel your eyes sting lightly as you read the report. What time is it again?

Irrelevant, Ponpon brought your tea the way you liked it, so you know you have a few more hours of fuel before your body starts feeling light and your leg starts to freeze up.

You let out a sigh, and you realize that your breath just now was cold enough to make your tea lose a bit of its heat… you should really try to learn how to control this.

"Ma'am, lieutenant Gale Speed is here," Ponpon shakes you out of your reading.

Oh, right, you called for the lieutenant, what was it about again…?

"Gale," you say curtly, "this report here. All of the reports, in fact, they are mostly filled with useless information."

You float the stack of papers towards him, and you can see by his expression that he actually agrees with you, but he also has the classic expression of a pony who has no idea of how to act upon said agreement.

"Progress on assigned areas. Number of volunteers, both arriving and leaving. Current stock of essential supplies. Those are the kinds of numbers that we need and…" you look at the stallion, his face visibly confused as he holds the piles of papers, "for heaven's sake, write what I'm saying down. Those are the kinds of numbers that we need. And if they want to give us small reports about topography or about how their maps are not up to date they can send us a new map annexed to the report, instead of their useless complaints. I'm sure there is one pony in every camp with a cutie mark for art or drawing, have your regional captains ask for their help."

The stallion nods as he desperately writes down what you are saying, being both relieved that this might just be the solution for the towers of reports that you receive… as well as being somewhat frightened at your tone of voice.

You see Ponpon put a few more sugar cubes in your tea, before offering it back to you, the mare for some reason wearing the quietly amused expression that she has whenever you are working on the late hours.

"Actually… Shining Armor," you turn around, facing the captain on the secondary table he had set next to your chair.

He looks up to you, his expression alert despite the bags under his eyes. The three other ponies around him, one of each species you note with satisfaction, still pouring over the trio of maps, several circles and paths already drawn on them in something approaching good order.

"Have somepony check if your regional captains are using the talents of the volunteers. I know it sounds obvious in hindsight, but I want to make sure we don't have a pony with a cutie mark about cooking stuck in regular search duty, when he could be helping to feed a whole camp. Things like that."

You see the Captain open his mouth, as if about to retort that such a thing is obviously not happening. But he quickly closes it right after, thinks a little, and nods towards you while getting up from his seat.

Goodness gracious. A pony's desire to help should not make them that blindsided, should it?

Well, but if you thought about it and Shining Armor agrees that it warrants a check, then…

You let out a sigh, a non-chilly sigh this time, and take a sip from your tea.

Pleasantly sweet, you think.





It's the… night of the… second day? You don't care anymore. What you do care is how utterly senseless some ponies around you can be.

"Send them a missive. Send everypony a missive!" the urge to bang the table does not come to you, but you can understand why some ponies resort to those sorts of crude expressions sometimes.

You look at the two trembling Royal Guard officers in front of you, as they dutifully take out their quills so as to write down anything you say.

"The search camps are of the royal and regular guard so I'm sure you will have no trouble with having your orders being followed," you groan, floating a gigantic pile of logistical requests to one of the less stacked book cabinets, and letting it un-float with a loud bang to make a point of how large it was. "Nopony else asks for anything anymore, they send us the number of volunteers they have, and they wait for supplies. Letters come up only if its an emergency, or else we will never read through the mountain of requests for materials, and get to the missives that are actually important."

Your tone of voice sends the two lieutenants running away, quills on their hoofs as they rush to see your orders fulfilled. You also notice that the chairs around you have been empty for a while, as well as the fact that very few ponies, Shining Armor, Ponpon and Rarity among them, have even approached you recently.

You brush away such petty concerns. The regular guards are still pouring over the maps, and the lieutenants are still keeping the flow of information (the much smaller flow of information, thank you very much) running.

You float your teacup towards you, only to realize it is empty.

"Ponpon?" you look around, searching for the familiar sight of your trusty maid.

Oh, wait, you dismissed her so she could sleep a while back…

No more tea for you then…

"Uh… Velvet Covers?" you hear Shining Armor's voice coming from behind you, and you turn to face him.

"What?" is all you can manage to answer him.

You glance over his table, noting with a satisfied nod that the maps are ready, several letters with instructions already being penned to be sent down to the search camps. As soon as those reach the ground floor, you know, the search will take up a much more efficient shape.

And you will finally be able to retire the boring old map you have on the central table, its progress as good as a crawl as each individual camp selfishly expands only on its own little assigned area.

Heavens, you think that the only pony who might have made good, efficient progress is Princess Celestia herself, the small statue that marks her presence jumping around all of Equestria by means that you can only guess is through some absurdly strong teleportation.

"Don't you think you should… you know…" the Captain hesitantly speaks, pointing towards you and then… towards the door?

Whatever he means by that?

"You want me to do… what?" you ask, wondering if there is something out of the room that can help organizing the search.

"Well, you've been here for a few… days now, so I thought…"

Heavens, the stallion can't even communicate? How did he even make it to Captain?

"I'll take it from here, Shining," you see Rarity coming towards you from her own stack of reports she had been helping you read through, "Velvet darling, come with me for a minute?"

Shining Armor, for some reason, looks relieved at that. In fact, you hear several ponies sigh in relief as they see Rarity push you away from the central desk.

"What are you doing Rarity?" you ask, trying to resist her push, "we have all sorts of everything to get done."

"Yes darling, but you need to sleep, and I won't take no for an answer."

"But the supplies! I need to check that letter before it goes down the chain, and we have another train leaving in a few hours to make its rounds and-!"

"And I'm sure our friends will be able to manage all of that for a few hours while we are away, don't you think?" she says calmly, effortlessly pushing against your meek attempts at resisting her, "you can face it as a form of training for them, even, to see how well they are taking to their updated duties."

That line of thought actually gives you pause as you think about it, and you only realize it was a trap when Rarity closes the doors to the hall behind you.

"Rarity, I'm serious! We have to…" you try to remember what you were about to say, but it simply escapes your mind… however, you insist on it regardless, "we have to!"

"Oh Velvet, please," she stops, holding you by the shoulders and looking into your eyes, "I understand how important this is, but you also have to rest, even if a little bit…"

And you see actual worry in her eyes, which really makes you pause for a few moments.

"Just a short nap? I'll wake you up in two or three hours at most… please?"

Two or three hours, you think, and she is worried about you… maybe you could go for it, after all…

"Alright… Promise you will wake me up?"

"Would I ever lie to you, darling?" she promises, with the most honest of smiles.

And you believe her.

Of course, after you hit your bed you only wake up way after midday, and only to receive a stern, but honestly worried, talking-to from Rarity.





It's a little past midnight of the fifth day, you take a last sip of your tea and float it back to the saucer next to you.

And this, the now empty teacup, is your signal that you are done for the day. Rarity went to your own room a few minutes ago, and you have already dismissed Ponpon as well, promising the two of them that you wouldn't take more than an hour to go to your own bed.

You sigh, thinking back to the… the entire week, now.

These last five days really did pass by in a flash.

And not in a good way, you think. There is still so much to do.

You optimized some processes, sure. The search parties are a lot more efficient now, the camps and hubs are now complementing each other's search sweeps, and the amount of paperwork involved was nearly cut down to a third of its original volume.

Honestly... this whole mess was borne from ponies having too many good intention, and not enough worry about planning on how to get things done. But ponies can be like that sometimes…

"Aren't you calling it a night as well? I hear there isn't really much to do during the night shift anymore," you hear a mare coming up behind you, the faint sound of metal against the floor betraying that she is using an armor. Probably a mare guard on duty, you think.

"Yes, I will… promised my friend I wouldn't do any more all-nighters and all, but" you float your writing quill and dip it in a little more ink, "I really want to get this letter done before I go."

You can hear her coming up from behind you, looking over your shoulder. You don't really care about it though, these last few days under the curious scrutiny of the guards has inured you against this sort of thing.

"A letter to the… cartographer's guild? Are you going to ask for more maps or the likes?" you hear her ask, curiously.

"Not really… going to ask for their help, sure, but they have already upended their archives for anything that could be of use to us. No… what I have in mind is asking their members for help."

You hear her let out an inquisitive "huh?", so you entertain her with an answer as you continue writing the letter.

"It's just that…"

But for some reason you feel lost for words. For some reason, you are suddenly feeling very tired.

"It's just that there is so much more we could be doing… Take the cartographer's guild for example, I'm writing them an open letter, inviting any of their members to join in the search to the most dangerous parts of Equestria, promising a full detail of guards for anypony who agrees to join. They are ponies with cutie marks for making maps, I am sure that one or two or ten of them will agree. This way they can get something out of it by mapping previously unexplored places, and we also gain something because we will have more specialists on the field, and…"

You let out a long, exasperated sigh, hoofs going to your temples as you realize just how exhausted you are. You would like to think that you are feeling something as simple as frustration, but it's not that. You are simply... too overwhelmed perhaps, the weight of this entire past week finally beginning to settle down on your body.

"I just feel like we could be doing so much more… we should be doing so much more…"

You hear the mare sit next to you, the telltale sign of a horn appearing in the border of your vision. A unicorn then, maybe one of Shining's officers?

"I… I honestly can respect how much dedication you are putting on this… Velvet Covers, wasn't it? But I honestly don't understand why… Why do you think like that?"

Her voice is pleasant, you think idly. Honest, understanding, you can feel something soothing radiating from the mare, to the point where she doesn't even need to say that she thinks that "you have done more than enough already". Something about her tone of voice, or perhaps her presence, already makes it implicit.

"It's because…" you think, trying to put it into words.

And for a moment you think you might not be able to explain her why you are feeling like this.

Until you realize how simple it actually is.

"I…" you start, although you are not sure why you are hesitating. "I have a daughter and a husband… and whenever I look at that map, and that alicorn piece. Whenever think about Princess Celestia, and how she has not returned to the castle ever since the search started…"

And the more you speak, the more easily the words come to you.

"Whenever I think about how I would be feeling if it was somepony of my family who was missing… Whenever I think of how it must be like, to be even as half as desperate as I think I would feel if that happened, well…"

You put your quill down, you don't think you will be able to finish the letter tonight anyways. Your mind is clear, for some reason, but you just feel too…

"I just don't think I have the right not to help. I just don't think it is the pony thing to do, to sit idly and do nothing… I don't mean to sound presumptuous, or superior to anypony else, but I can't help but think that anypony that is not helping is a pony who never in their lives felt…"

"Love?" the mare completes your phrase, saying the word as if she had just read your mind.

"Yes… love…" you sit back on your chair, looking at nowhere in particular, thinking about your family and about how long it will be until you are back home with them. "Love…" you say once again, almost as if talking to yourself.

And for some reason you feel a strange, yet welcome, warmth inside of you.

"Well, I can tell just by this you have a beautiful family, Velvet," the mare says, looking at you, "honestly, I hope one day I can have one like that," she says with a bashful smile.

"Oh, don't worry," you turn to face her with a smile of your own, "I'm sure that one day y- PRINCESS MI AMORE CADENZA?!"

You nearly fall back, your hindleg seizing up as you desperately try to stay on your chair, keep your balance, and bow down as low as you can all at the same time.

"My goodness Princess, I'm so terribly sorry for my manners" you stammer out, trying your best to reorient yourself while keeping your head towards the ground, "please, allow me to apologize an-!"

"Velvet, really, it's alright" she answers.

With a… smile? Is she laughing?

"And please, just call me Cadance. That full name always sounds a bit too much for me, as does the whole Princess title, if I can be honest."

You look up at her, seeing her honest expression as she keeps one hoof over her mouth, stifling a laugh.

You also see her wings, and her horn, and her regalia, and her everything. How the hell could you think that the elegant clopping of her golden horseshoes was something as dull as the sound of an armor?!

"I… am… Are you sure?" you tentatively get up, passing a hoof over your hindleg to make sure it won't embarrassingly cramp up at the worst possible moment.

"I am, don't worry. And I also came here just to… well, just to talk. Nothing official or anything," she says, looking around to the hall.

The totally empty hall, you realize, suddenly remembering that Shining Armor had changed the working hours of everypony so the night periods would be totally free.

You also realize she said she wanted to talk, not talk to you. Well, maybe she did come looking for you specifically, but you won't be as presumptuous as to assume you caught the attention of a Princess...

Right...?

Besides she… well, you have never met Princess Celestia before, and you have heard that she has a formidable presence to her. But Princess Cadance… well, Cadance seems extremely approachable, for some reason.

In fact, she looks downright normal, sans the whole horn-and-wings thing.

She just looks maybe like a tired mare, who just had a long day of work, and who is looking for something akin to a pleasant conversation.

Just like you.

And you do know that she has been holding court while Celestia is away, so heaven knows how tiring her day must have been…

"If that is the case…" you say, biting down another set of apologies, "you said you hope you will have a family one day? You?" you ask, trying your best not to sound too surprised at that, trying as much as you can to make it sound like some innocent mare gossip.

You think for a moment that maybe you shouldn't have asked that, a flash of horror coming to you as you chide yourself for even thinking that a Princess would do something as base as gossiping.

That is, until you see her expression turn into a soft smile at your question.

"Well yes. I mean, who doesn't?" she answers with another short laugh.

But wait, wait wait… you know that kind of laugh. You have seen it several times. Yes, you are sure of it!

That just now was most definitely the smile of a mare who is in-!

"Hang on a second," you say, studying her expression more carefully, "Princ-… Cadence," you bite down the title halfway through it, she did tell you not to call her that after all, "are you… do you have somepony you are interested in…?"

"What? Me? What makes you think that?!" she answers almost immediately.

But you see it, you know that expression too well. The way her eyes went wide open for a fraction of a second, the way she is smiling, almost stammering, as she answers.

She is.

And, you think as a knowing smile forms on your face, you have as long as she is willing to talk to figure out exactly who the lucky stallion, or the lucky mare, is.

Maybe Princess Cadence is still just a normal pony, underneath all of that alicorn part of her. Maybe, you think, she just might be somepony with whom you can be friends.





You have met Captain Shining Armor, and although he might not be the kind of stallion who can be quantified as an "Acquaintance", his allegiance already making his own intents clear beyond doubt, he is surely somepony who you will be able to approach freely from today on, your bond one forged in the fiery crucibles of... paperwork!

Your extensive efforts in helping to organize the search have given you great insight into the topography of Equestria, as well as knowledge of the places which have already been thoroughly combed. You will receive a +25 bonus for your personal search roll, to be accumulated with the second week's bonus. (Fifth Threshold search bonus)

Your dedication has attracted the attention of nopony less than Princess Mi Amore Cadenza herself. She is not the regular kind of pony who can be quantified as an "Acquaintance", but you can certainly say that you are on each other's contact list from today onwards. (Fifth Threshold contact bonus: Alicorn encounter. Princess Cadance now knows you, and that is something few ponies can boast)
> Turn 6 - Results, part 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You wake up… slowly.

Actually, no you don't. You can feel it, the hoof gently prodding you and trying to wake you up in a delicate way, but you actively resist the call of the waking world.

And you don't mean it because you are in the Mansus or anything. Quite on the contrary, you are as unconscious as unconscious can get, except for the one part of your head that is only awake enough to try to keep it that way.

Besides, judging by the size of those hoofs, and the fact that they are not jumping on top of you, you are sure that it's not Silky Stream trying to wake you up. So the part of your brain that bears the most authority over your head, the one that pertains anything related to your daughter, couldn't care less.

"Shouldn't we… let her stay like that?" you hear a familiar voice, its tone worried, ask in a hesitant way, "I mean, it has been such a long week. She must be exhausted."

"Don't worry Miss Rarity," the second voice, more familiar but in an annoying way, answers confidently, "you can trust me that she prefers being woken up."

And with that, the shaking becomes more vigorous. Two hoofs pushing you back and forth, causing several red flags to be raised inside your head as the lower parts of your brain insist that you are about to fall off from a cliff, or some other form of equally illogical prompt that such a vigorous shaking can cause. You swat them aside with a hoof-slap of logic, of course.

But the fact that you are thinking enough to strike out with said logic means that the higher functions of your brain have already been woken up. You have already lost.

You let out a groan. You are not yet conscious enough to realize how unladylike said groan was, but you are nearly there.

"Good morning ma'am" you hear Ponpon saying, and you turn towards her in time to see that she is confidently nodding towards Rarity.

You see it through your closed eyelids, but that is a detail you make sure to correct right after.

"I have brought your breakfast, ma'am, and some correspondence from the main house," she calmly says as she heads towards the door. A few moments later she pulls in a cart, filled to the brim with several good smelling things, plates of expertly made breakfast delicacies, trays arranged in a way that look like a small castle.

"Oh my," you hear Rarity let out a slight gasp of surprise.

You also raise an eyebrow at that, definitely agreeing with your friend that such a thing is unexpected.

The sheer quality of the breakfast being brought to the side of your bed impresses even you. This is definitely several levels above the usual that is sent to your room, some voice inside your recently conscious head whispering that this might even have come from the royal kitchen itself.

You slowly recall the events of the previous night, remembering the pleasant conversation you had with the… with the Princess of Love, and you eye the delicacy-filled food cart.

You let out a "huh…". Definitely a sign of favors from high up.

Well, there is nopony present that you feel you must impress, so you let your own curiosity and surprise show, simply shrugging at Rarity when she asks you what this is all about.

"No idea," you say. And this is also probably just a morning-after compliment from the Princess, so you don't see the need to mention that you met the Princess just yet, "have you eaten already?"

She shakes her head at that, so you simply point towards the cart and float one of the masterfully baked croissants towards you, while you absent-mindedly make your way out of your bed.

You see Rarity eyeing the magnificent food cart curiously, almost with a sign of trepidation, as if worrying that perhaps this had been sent to the wrong room, and that the two of you might get in trouble for eating from it.

Really, the mare has a lot to get used to… Granted, it's obvious that this sort of thing is way above your own station, but she has to learn about opportunity, or about simply going on with things as if they were perfectly normal. But at least, seeing that you already took a bite out of it, she finally starts helping herself with the contents of the cart.

You turn your attention back towards Ponpon, and her pleasant smile that you are never quite sure if it means she is just content, or if she is being smug, and she nods, already knowing what you mean by that.

"Here you go, ma'am," she takes a couple of letters from her saddle bag, and hand them over to you.

You give the exteriors of the letters a once-over, seeing that they are all from Canterlot. Two of them are regular missives from your family, the kind of thing that would have been sent to you back in Ponyville anyways, but the third one…

You open that one first, your mind slowly starting to warm up as the name of the pony who had sent the letter reminds you of several other things.

"I was also a bit surprised by how quickly an answer came," Ponpon says, her tone making it clear that she also knows what is going on in your head.

"Answer?" Rarity asks, as she floats a napkin towards her, "did anything happen?"

"I asked Ponpon to look for a relative of mine during this week…" you say, as you read through the content of the letter, "an uncle I hoped would be in town. Didn't really expect a letter to come back for a while though…"

You finish reading the letter, finally reaching the state where you are fully awake, and no longer annoyed by Ponpon's exemplary behavior. Your focus, however, is now concentrated on the contents of the letter floating before you.

You idly nibble at the freshly baked croissant feeling the gaze of the two other mares on you, although you are still busy rearranging your thoughts.

What you are reading, after all, is something that can be very good news indeed. There will be a lot of variables and a lot of unknowns, your uncle who wrote you the letter being chief among them, but there will also be opportunities.

But it simply won't do for you to keep mentally chiding Rarity for her behavior if you don't act upon your own lessons as well. Being a part of high society, after all, also involves the habit of taking risks.

"Say, Rarity…" you fold the letter once again, putting it back on its envelope and floating it towards the nightstand by your bed, "have you by any chance brought a dress suitable for a noble party?"

The mare, who us munching at salad that you're not sure if even your cook back at home can prepare, simply freezes, her mouth slowly gaping open in a most inelegant way.

You let out a small chuckle, and float a few more things from the food cart towards you.





Even now, while you are walking through the courtyard and towards the place where your carriage is waiting, you are still looking at Rarity. You are still looking at her dress, to be more specific.

"You really weren't joking about staying up the whole night…" you say in a low, and impressed, tone.

"Of course I was not, darling. I never joke when it comes to this sort of thing."

You are dressed for the occasion, of course, wearing a dress you had brought for the more formal necessities, embroidered with the motifs of white flowers, an elegant necklace around your neck.

But Rarity is… on another level entirely.

She is wearing a wavy light blue dress, long enough to give the impression that it has a tail to it, but without actually dragging on the floor. The hems of her skirt and sleeves have a silk-like shine to it, further enhanced by the various gems inlaid on those spots, a sequential combination of small diamonds, rubies and several others whose colors only highlight the ones that came next, instead of detracting from their charm.

She also did something to her mane that would have made you think that she had a whole team of manedressers helping her, if you didn't know any better. Whatever trick she used, you make a mental note, she definitely has to teach you later.

But simply put, Rarity looks stunning. And if it wasn't for the very minute details on her posture and mannerism you would have honestly thought that she could have passed for a member of the high nobility. In fact, you are almost sure that any regular passerby will think that you are accompanying her, and not the other way around.

Not that you mind it, of course, and not that you will do anything to break that notion. But still, like you said, the regular passerby would have thought that. You are not sure if a more experienced pony will miss the signs, or rather the lack of… all the negative things, in your opinion, that marks a pony as a member of the high nobility.

She is smiling, for starters, also her chin isn't nearly as high as it should be while she walks.

But still, although you want to introduce her into this lifestyle, you honestly hope she won't go too deep into it and end up losing herself.

You will make sure to be extra careful, especially this afternoon…

"But the fashion magazines I read always depict these parties during the night," she comments, looking up towards the sun, seeing that it is nearly approaching midday.

"Well yes, but those are usually the get-togethers hosted by the high nobility. The grand parties near the holidays where celebrities get invited and all that."

"I have to admit, darling, I still can't exactly wrap my head around this whole high and low idea you keep telling me about…"

"To be honest, it really is a vague notion even at the best of times," you say, not really being able to hide your own disapproval of the whole thing, "you see, as Equestria grew it became somewhat easier for other ponies to have as much power and influence as nobles… Well, not easier, but it became less impossible."

You keep talking, feeling Rarity's interested gaze on you as you speak, while you recall the lessons you had when you were younger.

The lessons you had from your father, of course… but knowledge is knowledge, regardless of its source.

"So, centuries ago, when wealthy merchants started to build their own mansions on Canterlot, and started competing for Celestia's attention, this whole idea of high and low nobility appeared. Low nobles being those who didn't have any true titles, but had power and influence, and high nobles being those who hailed from families with authority, granted by Princess Celestia herself centuries prior…"

You make sure to omit the more colorful, and intentional, wording your father had used. But it still somewhat strikes you that you can remember his lectures almost perfectly.

"Of course, the whole thing became even more confusing when the low nobles started being knighted into nobility by the Princess, due to their own relevant feats and doings. And that hurt the pride of a lot of ponies, to the point where a whole hierarchy of noble titles was invented, although to this day Princess Celestia has not made it official, of course…"

Which gives two sides to the coin, of course. When in the presence of a Princess, the nobles will treat each other equally, since they are all "equally noble" by her royal decree. When nobles gather among their own peers, however…

"That sounds… quite complicated," Rarity says with a hesitant expression. And although you hope you aren't marring her enamored view about nobility, this isn't exactly the sort of thing you can shield her from. She has to know this, and a lot more, if she is to thrive in this environment.

After all knowledge is never kind, but it still necessary.

"Well, it sounds complicated, and the background that led to the current status-quo is indeed convoluted," you partially agree, "but if you think about the whole situation as a matter of pride then it becomes a lot more simple."

She nods at that, slowly, with the telltale sign that she is thinking deeply about it. Well, she certainly lacks the practical examples to help her form an educated opinion, but you think you have set her on the right path.

"And this uncle of yours invited us to a party with other… lower," you see her struggle with the word for a few moments, "nobles, and… And is that a royal carriage?!"

Rarity's eyes go wide as she freezes on the spot, her words causing your thoughts to do the same thing. You look in front of you, and sure enough you see it.

Right there you see your own carriage, the symbol of the Velvet family carved on its side and present on the stained glasses above the doors. Its well treated hard wood exterior gleaming under the sun, all the way down to its wheels, and the metal saddles around the servantponies ready to pull it.

But of course, right next it is something that makes you family's possession pale in comparison.

The spherical shaped carriage almost seems to emit a light of its own, details laid out in gold are woven on its side, drawing the shapes of hearts around it, with motifs of laurels in green and pink crowning its top. It is not as much a carriage as it is a work of art, engraved with precious stones and topped by statues of rearing ponies, their pose noble and proud.

Correction, the statues are of rearing alicorns, wings open wide and horns pointing towards the sky.

And if you had any doubts left of whose carriage it is, the symbol of a great crystal in the shape of a heart dominates the door, making it clear for all to see of who exactly a thing of such beauty is meant to transport. A trio of Royal Guard ponies stand next to it, the same crystal heart symbol dominating the centerpiece of their armors, and they are curiously talking to Regal Effort, the armored mare who has been acting as your contact in the castle.

But much to your confusion, as soon as Regal sees you and Rarity she points a hoof in your direction, nodding to the trio of guards.

And the Royal Guards come towards the two of you.

"Lady Velvet," the lead of the trio says, taking off his helmet and giving the two of you a short bow, "due to services rendered on the current search for Princess Luna, Princess Cadance has tasked us with escorting you when outside of the castle. If you would please accept her request that you kindly use one of her carriages while on your tours around Canterlot?"

You are surprised by the suddenness of this.

But Rarity is even more so, her eyes shooting wide, after all the lead guard has just...

"I… would… we would love to? But pardon me, she is actually Velvet Covers," Rarity says, an awkward smile on her face as she points towards you. The eyes of the lead Royal Guard, who had specifically referred to her, go wide open at that.

"Beg your pardon Lady Velvet!" the guards fumble to reorient themselves, "truly I have no words to express my shame. But if you would please allow us to do our Princess' biding, even after this slight of mine?"

You do your best not to chuckle, and that is quite the impartial indicator of how much better dressed than you Rarity is.

Still, your mind goes into full gear at the guard's words.

Princess Cadance had this arranged? You can't believe that a little bit of gossiping and light hearted conversation, admittedly pleasant as it was, would have been enough to warrant this much. Maybe the breakfast as a small treat of favor, sure, but the use of the royal carriage?

Well.. the use of "a" royal carriage. You are sure that she has more of those, and this one might be the least impressive at her disposal… but still.

When a thought occurs you… the guard mentioned that they are supposed to escort you while out of the castle, and Princess Cadance is the standing regent on the throne during Princess Celestia's absence. So what sort of message would she send if a small noble like you is seen trotting around Canterlot surrounded by her guards?

By her very well-dressed guards, you must add. You have seen enough Royal Guards by now to know a thing or two about them, and you can see that the uniforms they are using is not the regular duty-armor. No, they are wearing ceremonial regalia, the sort of thing that is meant to stand out. So what would it mean to have these stallions accompanying you?

Well, you think… it would be a message to anypony with eyes (and if nobles have anything, it is many, many well paid and gossiping eyes) that good little nobles who aid the crown are showered in favor.

You nod internally, saluting Cadance's political wile. There are many ways this can backfire, and many ways that this can be a success, but it is still a move made on the board, it is a risk taken. And you surely can respect that.

"There is no slight in your actions, please rise," you say to the bowing guard, "Lady Rarity has always been the better looking of us, after all," you say, winking at the mare for her to follow your lead.

You nod at the guards as they get up, their leader putting his helmet back on.

"And I am most humbled by our Princess' kindness. I would be delighted to have you escort us during our stay here."

You see the Royal Guards let out a sigh of relief under their armors, at your unoffended answer, and they turn to lead you towards the magnificent carriage.

Rarity, however, is still clearly confused at the sudden turn of events, shooting you yet another confused glance as the carriage doors are opened for the two of you.

You just give her a confident smile and bid her to be patient.

You will explain her everything as soon as you are on your way.



[You have gained the trait "Favored in Canterlot: Mi Amore Cadenza". Applies a +20 bonus to certain, but not all, rolls in Canterlot. You will be immediately recognized as a supporter of the Crown, and as a member of the "Royalist" faction during a dispute.]





"You had a chat with a Princess? And you didn't think it was something important enough to tell me about?!" Rarity's voice is a mixture of surprise, and a tinge of hurt.

Not real hurt, of course, and the way she is whispering to you, even while you were inside a moving chariot, is slightly amusing.

"Like I said, it was just a chat," you repeat the same thing you have just said, "and she seemed as reasonable and pleasant, and perhaps even as normal, as you and me. She was just a tired mare who wanted company, that's all."

Rarity crosses her forelegs, sitting on the soft seat of the carriage. Her expression is grumpy at first, but it soon softened out to something else, an expression close to worry perhaps.

"Well, she has been taking care of Canterlot all on her own during Princess Celestia's absence…"

"My thoughts exactly," you reply.

"But still, whatever did you talked about to warrant…" she waves her hoofs around herself, pointing at the carriage with an incredulous expression, "all of this?!"

You nod at her and take a deep breath. This will take some doing, especially since the two of you are heading towards what can potentially be a nest of snakes dressed in posh garments and colorful suits.

But your destination is still a good distance away, and you can see that your carriage is being pulled at a speed that seems to be, intentionally, only slightly slower than normal. Almost as if you were on a parade of sorts.

Yeap, definitely a lot you have to put Rarity up to speed about.









"And I'm not supposed to ask about their family's achievements, or how they got to their current station?"

"Right. But gossiping about other families is fine."

"And it's not rude to ask about their cutie marks?"

"Correct, but it can become something of a contest, so I would advise against it."

"Right…"

You drill Rarity one last time about the utter basics of noble interaction, the most important things and traps that she could fall into if she didn't know anything. Heavens, telling her all of this made you realize just how many unreasonable and confusing things there are to this whole mess. You just hope you aren't too rusty at this, with all the time you spent in Ponyville and all.

Still, for good measure, you had the Royal Guards take the carriage for one last stroll around the "block"… or whatever you call a particular concentration of mansions, just to buy the two of you a little more time.

And also to flare Cadance's carriage a little more, of course. No reason not to help her in spreading the message she has in mind.

But finally, the carriage comes to a stop, and you hear the clear clipping of the Royal Guard's horseshoes as he heads towards the door to open it.

A large gate appears beyond the open doors of the carriage. Canterlot is a safe place, and nobles want their possessions to be seen, so the tall gates and fences are just there for another chance to show opulence instead of offering security. Consequently, you can clearly see the garden beyond the gates.

A great fountain stands at its center, and countless well dressed ponies can be seen gathered in groups, drinking from fine glasses and nibbling from several delicacies carried around by well dressed servants, while they talk and gossip among themselves. You spy a group of musicians on one of the sides of the garden, playing from an array of classical instruments and lending the whole place an aura grace.

In short, it is a perfectly normal noble party. A sight that you are used to, even if you haven't been in one for quite a few years now. But definitely not something that another certain pony will be accustomed to…

Make sure that Rarity is not gawking: Check.

"And remember Rarity," you whisper to your friend, "elegance and confidence." You know she has the first to spare, so you make sure to stress the second word.

And with that you walk down the red-carpeted stairs of the carriage.



It is important to keep subtlety and nuance in mind, no matter what you are doing. That is doubly more important when, you confirm with a discreet glance, you have everypony in a noble party looking at you.

You walk down the carriage first. Unfortunately, there is little you can do about this detail. The most important pony is usually the first to leave a carriage or transport, but that becomes clearer the larger your entourage is. But since there are only two of you, you know that half the ponies there will think that you came out first because you are Rarity's servant.

And of the other half, the ones who thought you were more important than Rarity, will have many of their numbers convinced of the contrary as soon as they see the mare herself.

So, instead of trying to angle things one way or the other, you commit fully to the most convincing of the two options.

As soon as Rarity steps a hoof on the stairs leading down the carriage you offer her a hoof, gently helping her down. You allow yourself a tiny bit of relief as she accepts your hoof without a smidge of doubt or surprise crossing her face. This is sure to convince everypony present that Rarity is to be the focus of all this, which will both allow her to gather much needed attention and interest, as well as it will allow you to work undetected.

Well, that, or everypony present will think that you are in a relationship with her.

Nothing you can do about that, though.

Especially not when Rarity is looking positively stunning. The eyes that were fixed on your carriage become fixed on her as soon as she makes her appearance, the gems on her dress glinting with the sun, whispers and hushed comments spreading like wildfire as the two of you make your way through the gates, towards a specific uniformed pony by the entrance.

"Who shall I announce, my ladies?" he asks with no small amount of flare and bowing.

"Velvet Covers and Rarity," you answer simply, looking at Rarity as if asking for confirmation, and being delighted that she answers with a simple nod.

"Present: Lady Velvet Covers and Lady Rarity!" he declares towards the garden.

The subtle glances of the other ponies present becomes quite unsubtle at that, and the whispers seem to grow in intensity as information is exchanged and confirmed.

Here we have a Velvet, arriving with somepony else that nopony knows, but that everypony will try their level best to look like they do know.

You let out a smile at that. Let them whisper and gossip and create their stories all they like.

You thank the announcer, and flutter into the party with the grace of a Moth, hidden in the shadows made by Rarity's light.





The thing is, it is all about appearances. In places like this, everything revolves around impressions.

Consequently, everything is about misdirection and manipulation, deep down.

The most important thing is deniability. In no moment will you say that Rarity is your superior, much like you will not let slip that she is a simple commoner. You even made sure not to address yourself, or her, as "Lady" when you answered the announcer by the gates of the garden, because you are sure somepony will quiz them about it later and even that much could be a hint of status.

As long as you don't confirm who the mysteriously well-dressed, and gorgeous you must add, mare is, she will be whatever the nobles around her thinks she is. Consequently, she will be whatever you want them to think that she is, having the full intention of stoking the fires started by arriving in a royal carriage as much as possible.

And the most important part about this is the pride that nobles have about knowing things. Even if for some reason they do realize what exactly Rarity is, they will not immediately decry her. Quite on the contrary, they will first check what everypony else around them thinks, and act accordingly, any shame that they can feel by being fooled thus far being overpowered by their desire not to be further shamed if they make their ignorance known.

Even if everypony eventually realizes it, it will be just like the tale of The Noble With The Invisible Hat. Everypony will still keep complimenting his hat, even if there is nothing there, because everypony else is doing so. Everypony will keep deferring to her, because they think everypony else is none the wiser.

"Covers!" you are not three steps into the impeccably kept garden before you hear a pony calling out for you, "how're you doing kiddo?"

You look at the approaching stallion, his brown coat inked with a few spots of black, dressed in a well cut suit and with a trimmed goatee on his face. The small brooch he has on his neck, with the symbol of the Velvet family, already makes you almost entirely sure of who he is.

"C'mere, gimme a hug. By Celestia, you've grown up!" the hug he gives you right after dissolves the few doubts you still had.

"Uncle Steppes, it's been years!" you hug him back. Normally you would be wary about such intimate interactions, especially here, but Velvet Steppes has such a charming warmth to him that you simply couldn't care for those few moments. "And what you mean I've grown up, the last time we saw each other was at my marriage."

"Right, that Stormchaser fellow. Which makes me realize I have not yet met my own grandniece!" he says, letting go of you and turning towards Rarity, "and where are my manners. I am Velvet Steppes, lucky uncle of this mare over here, and I am utterly honored to make your acquaintance Lady Rarity."

He says, taking Rarity's hoof with his own and kissing it.

"Absolutely charmed," she answers back, with a giggling smile.

Not the most controlled of answers, but it can pass off as quite charming. And you are not exactly worried about your uncle catching up to anything anyways.

Although you… well, it's not that you don't trust your uncle, but to this day you have not yet figured out exactly what it is that he does. Still, you know that he is quite the affable stallion, and most of all he is family. That might not matter to some ponies, your father among them… but you know that it matters to Steppes.

"I was quite surprised when I got that letter from your servant, but I sure am glad it went through the main house without Hill disappearing with it. Also, lovely that you could be here as well, I was afraid you would be busy for the day," he says, signaling one of the waiters that is carrying drinks.

"You think father knows about the letter I sent you?"

"Kiddo, you're smart enough to know he keeps a tab on everything inside that house," he says as the three of you float the expensive looking glasses towards you, "at least he didn't disapprove of it, since you're here and all."

You take a sip from the drink. It has alcohol, you realize, not that you can't handle it, but it is another variable to keep in mind for Rarity.

Speaking of which, the mare has been eyeing the two of you with a curious expression as you talk to your uncle.

Oh, right.

"Rarity here hasn't met my dear father yet," you say signaling your uncle in the subtlest of ways.

Causing Steppes to take another look at Rarity, a more appraising look this time, and you see a small glint on them not long after.

Of course he realized it, he is a Velvet after all.

"Really? I figured my older brother would have been delighted to meet such a respectable mare," he says with a smile, causing your friend to blush slightly.

If only she knew what he really meant by that…

"I agree, he might even have had the idea of asking her to marry Velvet Wings," you answer, "he is my older brother by the way."

To which Rarity blushes even more, while your uncle lets out an understanding "ohh…".

Yes, uncle, it's exactly what you are thinking. Your father thinking somepony is "good enough" to marry your brother doesn't exactly mean... what it immediately sounds like it means.

"My, Velvet, don't go saying those sorts of things," she answers back, waving a hoof towards you. "Although you never mentioned you have a brother, what's he like?"

"Velvet Wings?" your uncle interrupts you before a single word comes out of your mouth, an excited tinge to his voice, "why he's the most proper and well bred pegasus stallion you've ever seen in your life. Tall and strong, with wings that can blow a hurricane and a voice as deep as the sea," your uncle goes on and on, painting a rather over-heroic image of your dear older brother.

But he always had a way with words, and you can see Rarity's eyes slowly going wider, small sparks appearing in them, as your uncle continues his tall tales.

"… and you know what he does with his fortune and free time? He goes exploring the far reaches of Equestria, that's what he does. No wonder he is still a bachelor, although I tell him every time that he should settle down."

"By the Princesses… and why didn't you tell me about any of this before Velvet?!" the mare turns towards you, nearly advancing in your direction.

Maybe because most of those things were blown out of proportion by your uncle's big mouth?

"Because he is so very busy with his travels," you answer with a level smile, "unlike a certain uncle of mine who seems to have way too much free time to make up stories," you shoot a glare towards Steppes right after.

"Be that as it may, darling, that is not the kind of thing you should hide fr-" she continues with her slightly indignant speech... which you hope that is not an effect of the alcohol, seeing that she hasn't even finished her first glass.

"Excuse me, Lady Rarity?"

Only for her to be interrupted.

You look behind Rarity, and you see a pair of young mares, both also dressed as nobles.

Well, "young" in the sense they are younger than you. They seem to be around Rarity's age.

"Yes, can I help you with anything?" she asks, quickly regaining her poise and adjusting herself to conform to all the small hints you had given her beforehand.

"Well, it's just that we couldn't help but see how magnificent your dress is," one of them begins.

"So we just had to ask you where you had it made," the second one continues.

"Yes! I don't think we've ever seen something like this in all of Canterlot! Is it from Manehattan?"

"Or do you have your own dressmaker, perhaps?"

The two mares start raining down their compliments on Rarity, at first slowly, but then with more and more vigor as they feel more comfortable.

And Rarity, for her own part, is clearly doing her best not to let her awe show. You wonder if it has already hit her that she is being openly complimented by nobility, in the middle of a party. Literally the thing that she has always dreamed of.

She looks towards you, as if asking if it is okay for her to go with the two mares, and you take the opportunity to also check her eyes. Yes, you see, the realization has definitely hit her.

"Ill be right here if you need me, Rarity," you say, in an ambiguous way that could be either subservient or just friendly.

To which she nods elegantly, and not gleefully much to your satisfaction, as she calmly walks away with the two mares.

You follow her with your eyes, sipping from your drink, but there is not really much you can do for now.

"So… care to tell me what that's all about?" you hear your uncle asking you, a curious smirk on his face.

You float your glass to your eye level, seeing that it is empty, and signal another waiter towards you.

"She is a sweet, kind, and talented mare," you say, floating another glass towards you, "and more importantly she is a friend. A great friend."

You see your uncle nod at that, a slow and understanding nod. He understands loyalty, so you know he understands what you mean by that.

"And you have been keeping to yourself in Ponyville all these years," he says, in a roundabout way telling you that he understand where exactly you met her, although with words that the surrounding bystanders wouldn't understand. "Coloratura?" he asks, meaningfully.

You think about it for a few moments, before nodding once again.

"Perhaps even more talented, on her own trade that is..." you answer, to which he raises an eyebrow, "although I don't particularly like the direction Svengallop is taking from what I read on the news, now that you mentioned the mare."

"Well, it's working. He knows how to garner the younger audiences."

You give him a point, still eyeing Rarity as a circle of interested nobles slowly forms around her.

You can see the way things are going, you almost think you can hear the machine clicking. An audience of younger nobles is around her, hanging on to her words and engaging in interested conversation with her. Each of them is a representative of some family, you know. Each of them is a scout.

And around that circle, in the far corners of the gardens and in the groups where they are gathered, the older and more influential members of the noble families are looking with interest, sharp eyes like those of hawks analyzing the situation. Judging, whispering.

Trying to measure if this is an opportunity, trying to measure if other families are thinking this is an opportunity.

You will let Rarity have her fun, but you know your place in this. You are also one of the faraway onlookers, keeping an eye on your charge as she drinks and mingles, searching for the angle you think will be the most advantageous and-

"Hah, you're being such a Velvet right now," you uncle interrupts you with a chuckle, halting your thought process.

"Beg your pardon, a Velvet?" you ask, shaking your head slightly and looking towards him, "well technically yes, but I take it you mean something else by it…?"

"It's an expression that's used around these circles. I mean, look at you, you come here with a…" he waves his own glass towards Rarity, "a literal diamond in the rough, better dressed than anypony else and in a royal carriage, Celestia knows how you managed that, I might add, and then you…"

He shakes his hoof in your general direction.

"Well, and then you do this."

"Our family name is a slang?" you ask, honestly surprised.

"Dear me, you really haven't been around in a long time have you kiddo…? You do know that our ancestor was called Velvet Horseshoe, but that he was actually known as Velvet Dagger, right?"

You let a conflicted expression show for a few moments, your minds switching into a slightly faster speed at that. You may be slightly estranged with your family, but you didn't expect your family to have this sort of reputation.

It could throw all sorts of cobbles into the gears of your plan, you think, as you eye the surrounding groups of nobles, around the Rarity-circle, with new eyes.

More worried eyes.

But your uncle sees that, and lets out a chuckle.

"Don't worry kiddo, your old uncle is here for you," he says, putting a foreleg around you in a side hug, "but we had better strike while the iron is hot and the stage is not yet set. Shall we get to work then?"

He asks, with a confident smile on his face.

To which you take a deep breath, although you are slightly more worried than you wished you were.

"Let's."

And with that, the two of you start walking around the party, drinks in hand and eyes, hidden behind pleasant smiles and calm expressions, on the lookout for opportunities.





[To Patron the Diamond, breakpoints 20/60/100/140/180]

[Roll: 73 + 12 (Intrigue) + 5 (GRAIL bonus) + 15 (Rarity) + 10 (A Dress to Impress) + 20 (Royal Favor) – 10 (She is a Velvet, though…) + 20 (Steppes, the Facilitator) = 145]

[The Search for Influence, CD 75]

[Roll: 60 + 12 (Intrigue) + 5 (GRAIL bonus) + 20 (Royal Favor) – 10 (She is a Velvet, though…) + 20 (Steppes, the Facilitator) = 107]





The sun is near the horizon now, the mood of the party having slowly changed as the hours progressed. The music is slightly faster now, the areas around the fountain being populated by the younger nobles as they dance, and the surrounding groups of the older nobles having now pulverized into a single large ring-like circle.

Alcohol has inhibited their usual antics, and the sight of their youngers, their heirs and scions, getting along so well has softened them into a more friendly and approachable mood.

You are not that old to be feeling like that, thank you very much, but your uncle is, so you are standing next to him as he fondly looks at the younger generations, the two of you slowly sipping from your beverages.

And granted, the two of you are somewhat tired. You and your uncle have been through no small amount of work now. For the last few hours you have deftly maneuvered through the circles and groups of nobles, staying for a pleasant conversation of two before letting out a few meaningful hints about your stay there, slowly building up a mysterious image about Rarity. "Accidentally" telling the older and more powerful ponies the information that would only reach them much later, through their young ones, that Rarity is an obscure yet extremely talented couturier, a fashionista of talent who has recently been toying with the idea of going out of obscurity, her talent great enough for her to think about that as she might consider idly taking up a new hobby.

You think the two of you did a reasonably good job. But as these sorts of things usually go, you have no idea if your efforts bore any fruit.

That is, until you spot a particular mare purposefully walking towards the two of you.

There is no outward change, you know, but you can feel the two of you slightly changing posture, gently pushing the tipsy ponies inside your heads towards a corner so you can think more clearly.

You and your uncle are in full business mode when the mare reaches you. It is clear that she has the same thing in mind, after all.

"Velvet Covers, Velvet Steppes," she says with a slight curtsy.

"Needle Pin," your uncle answers as the two of you slightly bow your heads in return, the older stallion helpfully giving you the mare's name without her realizing it.

"That mare, where have you met her?" she asks, taking up a glass from the nearby table and asking nonchalantly.

Of course, you know who she is talking about, you have had that same question asked to you countless time during the day.

But you can see that she means something… different, by it, so you give her the slightly less redacted version of the answer.

"Ponyville. I met her in passing while she was there, looking for inspiration as she said. We've kept in touch ever since, and I have been commissioning a few pieces from her every now and then."

The secret to not being caught in a lie is not to lie at all, and the trick to telling a good story is not telling the truth.

A gust of wind blows in the garden, and you think you hear the shearing of scissors in the distance, the buzzing of wings inside your head.

"I see…" Needle Pin nods, thinking deeply, "she is not… exclusive, is she?" she asks slowly, with purpose.

You know what she means by that, she is asking if Rarity does not have a contract with you, or if perhaps she isn't a reclusive artist who only releases masterworks as she sees fit, working on her own mysterious pace.

Equestria is, after all, full of the latter kind of ponies, as cutie marks are wont to produce such ponies every now and then.

"She…" you bite your tongue at the last moment, you almost said that she wasn't, that she was free and available, but you change your mind on the last second. "… has been feeling more industrious, as of late. I promised her my full support, of course, since I love her work."

"Yes, Covers, but I've been telling you. You have been so very busy as of late…" you uncle adds, sighing with his old stallion voice as if the two of you have had this conversation countless times before.

You follow up immediately, of course.

"And I've told you back, uncle, I'm not that busy. I'm sure I will be able to work something out for her in the next few months."

"Provided Dame Rarity doesn't lose her spark of inspiration, of course. You know how these masterwork craftsponies are," he retorts, a slight tinge of disapproval in his voice.

The two of you continue your mock-argument, but both you and your uncle are very aware that Needle Pin is listening to it intently.

And more importantly, the two of you can see the slight glint in her eyes, as she sees a golden opportunity presented for her.

"Perhaps… I can offer a different solution?" she interrupts the two of you.

She doesn't notice how the two of you go completely silent as soon as she does, engrossed as she is on her own thoughts.

She doesn't notice the smile on your uncle's face, obscured by his goatee.

She doesn't need to, you think, willing her to go ahead with your impassive stare.

"I have several venues in Canterlot," she continues, "and I'd be delighted if we could showcase Dame Rarity's pieces in them. Not wanting to step on the Velvet's patronage over her, of course," she adds hastily.

You eye her suspiciously, faking a slight bit of disinterest, or perhaps even aggressivity, while your mind is honestly rushing its gears trying to think about all the implications and angles on this.

"Now now, Covers," your uncle chimes in, giving you much needed advice while pretending to be a simple voice of reason, "the Needle family is one of the big go-to families when it comes to fashion and design. Dame Rarity's work would surely reach a lot of ponies if they started displaying her work…"

You nod internally at that, at his general approval of this.

The decision is practically made in your mind, but you still want to do one final check…

"Still…" you say, signaling your uncle to keep up for just a little bit longer, "father has been talking about investing in the clothing business himself…" you say, mostly to yourself, but with your whole attention focused on Needle Pin.

And you see it, the slightest hint of hesitation, the small gulp of trepidation as she realizes she might lose her catch. She wants this, not just as a side venue or as a small project, she is invested on this idea.

You let your eyes wander around you for a moment, seeing that your conversation has attracted the attention of quite a few other nobles. You won't risk losing Needle Pin, of course, seeing that you can't guarantee another such encounter if you dismiss her. But you can see that the mare is hoping this will work out for her, that she has been maturing the idea for as long as the party has been happening.

Heavens, you even see her look towards your uncle, as if hoping he will save her chances.

Which he does, after you give him the slightest of nods.

"Don't be a fool, Covers," he mock-chides you, with the verbal equivalent of a nudge to the forehead, "Hill says he is interested in getting his hoofs on everything. Don't worry about my niece, Needle Pin, she still has much to learn. Why don't we go to a quieter place, where we can discuss Dame Rarity's patronage in peace?"

Needle Pin lets out a sigh of relief, imperceptible to the common eye but glaringly obvious to you and your uncle, and she quickly waves for the two of you to follow her.

She doesn't notice the slight pat on the back your uncle gives you, as soon as she turns her back to the two of you.





These are the sorts of places where power is exchanged, pacts are agreed on, and promises made. These noble parties, opulent in their apparent decadence, are the places where the gears of Equestria are oiled, spun, and sometimes downright substituted.

And as if to prove a point, something like that is happening right here, right now. A name is being created, a brand is being borne, a possible myth is being birthed. Fame is being agreed upon and given shape through the exchange of favors and promises, and very real bits.



[] What have you agreed upon with the Needle family?

-[] Nothing: The deal was unmade before it was concluded. You can do better, and Rarity deserves better. (No deal will be made, Rarity will remain without a patron in Canterlot)

-[] Rarity is feeling rather industrious, as you mentioned: Rarity will be commissioned to deliver lines of clothing, frequently. Her work will be spread far and wide for all to see, and will be donned by many ponies. (Rarity's work will be incredibly well known among commoners, being displayed in every last shop available to the Needle family. Her work, however, will be largely ignored by the nobility and more influential ponies, who very much prefer exclusivity.)

-[] Rarity's works are not about clothes, they are about ideas: Rarity will be asked to deliver anything and everything that she works on, and the Needle family will see what those latest pieces are best suited for. Her pieces will not have a specific theme or tone to them, at least not until everypony starts realizing their clothes all have the "Designs by Rarity" printed on their tags. (The slowest and steadiest option, and surely the one that will give Rarity the most freedom to work with, but it is much harder to make a name for yourself when you try to have that name written everywhere at the same time.)

-[] Lady Rarity is feeling inspired: Rarity will be commissioned to expose her latest ideas seasonally. Her latest models will be the new thing, at least for the next few months, although she will be expected to deliver a "hit" every time. (Rarity's work will be relatively inconstant, at least by the sense of fashion designers, they will, however, garner to all publics. But you know that a single mistake can see this strategy backfire in the cruel world of fame and fashion.)

-[] Dame Rarity's works are exclusive: Rarity will work only for the highest payers, and only on the most exclusive dresses. She will have her most prominent work displayed on the greatest Needle boutiques, and her services will be by commission only. (Rarity's work will become incredibly well known among nobles and well-to-do ponies, but not much among the public in general.)

-[] WRITE IN: In which direction you believe Rarity's work is best suited to go in? More importantly, in what circles do you want to hear her name being talked about?



[] And what of her image?

-[] Rarity would be delighted to work on-site: You will not pledge that Rarity will live in Canterlot, but you don't say that she isn't willing to come every now and then either. (Give Rarity the option, and the obligation in some cases, to go to Canterlot. There will be more chances for her "commoner" trait to become known, and you most likely won't be able to accompany her every time.)

-[] Dame Rarity works best from her secluded boutique. The Velvets will make sure to relay her works to the Needles, though: Cut the problem from the bud, and invest in the image of a mysterious couturier who lives on an undisclosed location. (Rarity's common origins will remain unknown, and her eventual appearances will be all the more impactful because of it. She won't be living the dream anytime soon, though.)

-[] WRITE IN: You would like to keep her commoner background a secret, for the time being, since you feel it will make things that much easier. What sort of myth will you weave around Rarity's background?



[] And finally, how much of it will involve you?

-[] Not much: This much is all we really wanted. (No cost, but the Needle family will expect them to have great influence over Rarity, and will make a move for it in very little time.)

-[] A token effort: The Velvets are watching, but the Needles can have their fun. (Costs 60 bits. The Needle family will try to make a move on Rarity, eventually, but you will make sure to be there when it happens.)

-[] A reasonable amount: This will be an enterprise among equals. You hold the board with your shops, we hold the queen. (Costs 150 bits. The Needle family will be on equal footing with you, on this deal.)

-[] All of it: We will make sure Dame Rarity has everything she needs. Your shops can just wait for the next line of clothes. (Costs 300 bits. The Needle family will have no influence, or claim of influence, over Rarity.)



(All options will see Rarity busy, as she will either be working on several new pieces, or she will be under the great scrutiny of demanding nobles.)

(You may not consult Rarity on her opinion. These sorts of deals happen in moments like this, both time and opportunity being of the essence.)

(All options will be merely the kickstarter of her debut. Problems will arise and success is not guaranteed, but here you will shape what it might turn into given time. Return of investment will only become predictable as things advance.)





And with that, the night is finally over. The moon is already slowly making its way towards the center of the sky when you drag Rarity, an extremely tipsy Rarity, from a circle of courting stallions.

You are extremely satisfied that she has kept her composure, though, and that you have not found her doing anything unsightly. Both because she has an image to maintain, a budding and fresh image mind you, and because she is your friend, and you would hate to see her involved in that sort of thing.

But as you had hoped she is still elegant and regal, even while obviously inebriated.

Not that you are inebriated yourself. Not at all. You most definitely didn't have to struggle to grab her hoof, and you most certainly did not think she had four forelegs for a few moments.

You say your goodbyes to your uncle with a hearty hug, followed by Rarity hugging him as he promises to introduce Velvet Wings to her the next time you meet.

And with slightly less balanced steps that you hoped to have, you make your way towards your carriage.

Princess Cadance's carriage, you remind yourself as you help Rarity up the red carpeted steps, ignoring the impressed looks of the nobles who are passing by.

"Velvet darling, you wouldn't believe how this night was… how utterly unforgettable all of this was!" Rarity says, laughing to herself, as soon as she lands on her seat.

You are not even done closing the door behind you before she continues to talk.

"Where were you during my whole life?!" she thinks out loud, a gleeful smile on her face as the movement of the chariot starts to rob her of what little balance she had left.

Maybe she did drink a bit too much. Not that you mind though.

"Like I said, this whole thing would have been boring without you," you answer honestly, only slightly intending to calm her down, "so really, I'm the thankful one."

"Thankful?" her eyes shoot wide at that, "darling that doesn't even begin to describe what I'm feeling right now. Really, I can't say anything else other than that I love you!"

You laugh at that, an honest and loud laughter. She clearly had way too much to drink.

"Wha-? I'm not joking Velvet," she sits back on her cushion in an almost dramatic way when she realizes you are laughing, although she is almost falling to her side with her pitiful attempt at staying upright, "I mean, my whole life… ever since I was a filly I dreamt about this… all of this!"

A warm feeling comes to your chest, mostly because you know that she is telling the truth. You know that she is an honest and hard working mare, but knowing that you were able to do this for her…

Heavens, she doesn't even yet know exactly what you have in store for her. You think you will only tell her when you are back in Ponyville, after this whole royal search mess is over, but still. Knowing that you are doing something for a friend is quite a pleasant feeling.

"Really Velvet you are…" she starts droning off, her eyes threatening to close as she tries to focus on her thoughts, the moving chariot rocking her to sleep with each passing moment, "love of my life and…"

And look at her right now, you think. So gorgeously defenseless, so innocent, almost unable to focus on her own words, so…

Delectable.

You get up from your seat, moving towards her with purpose, your hoofs suddenly straight and balanced even despite all the alcohol in your head.

Or perhaps it is because of the alcohol that you are being able to do this.

"What…? Velvet what are you… Velvet Covers?!"

Rarity's eyes regain their focus as you go towards her, then they shoot wide open as you put your hoofs on her shoulders.

Then she nearly freezes in shock as you pull her face towards yours.



You will never really remember if you whispered something in her ear, or if you kissed her, and neither will she.

But Rarity will never, ever forget… the taste that you gave her that night.



[You have initiated Rarity into the secrets of GRAIL.]

[Having spent enough time with her, you have also noticed that she has a minor affinity with the Lore of FORGE. She desires to create, and she detests that which will not change. Although she only knows that in the form of the love for her craft, and the fascination she has for the changes in fashion… for now.]
> Turn 6 - Results, part 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



Regarding Rarity's future, you have negotiated for her to go on the slowest and steadiest path. Where she has the most freedom to work, and where she can deliver anything and everything she deigns to create. Naturally, that will make her fame grow more slowly, since she will not focus on any specific market. Still, you think that will yield the greatest fruits on the long term.
You also decided to "keep her for yourself". Dame Rarity, the word will spread, works best from her secluded boutique. And you will foot the bill of the initial investment so the Needles can't have any influence over her.



During the noble party, while you were subtly building up Rarity's image, you have met…

[] A group of noble merchants. Bit handlers and scions of families with a better hold on the economy of the capital… and beyond. They might not be family heads, but their families have enough assets that they are in "direct supervision" of quite a few things, much like yourself and your family's Estate in Ponyville.

[] A few officers of the Guard. Not the Royal Guard, and Equestria's military is not decadent to the point where only nobles may rise to the higher ranks of officers. But these ones in particular are nobles, and they might have a bit of pull in a lot of places thanks to it.

[] A few studious unicorns. Scholars and teachers, invited because of their prestige among some of the guests. Considering how much time they spend in classrooms and libraries, it is a bit surprising that they were there at all.

[] A group of more influential nobles. Call them sycophants, call them clever, but these nobles have managed to blend in with higher nobility despite their "low" status. You hit it off well enough with them to the point where they promised you to make some introductions if you would like.

[] Nopony in particular. But thanks to your uncle, you managed to… well, "clear your name" a little bit. (Lose the "She is a Velvet, though…" hidden malus. Yes, it will still apply for other encounters if you don't.)

(All picks, bar the last, will be a useful "first step" when cult-spreading efforts begin in Canterlot. The difference between them is what sorts of things you will be able to do more easily in Canterlot, whenever you visit again personally, and which segment of the population the cult will bite first, or at least will meet least resistance with, if you ever make a move towards Canterlot.)





"Uhmmm… my heeeead…" a low groan reaches you, finally. Not enough time had passed for you to start worrying, but she still took her sweet time.

Well, in all fairness that actually sounds like something she would do, beauty sleep and all.

"Why is the world so bright?..." Rarity tosses under her sheets, but you have a very good idea of what she must be feeling right now. You know for a fact that she won't be able to get back to sleep anytime soon.

Come to think of it, you wonder, has Rarity ever been through a hangover before?

"Mostly because it's already a bit past morning," you answer nonchalantly, not looking up from your book while comfortably sitting on a cushion, "there is a glass of water on your nightstand. It has some remedy in it, so don't worry if it tastes funny."

You hear another groan, followed by the sound of covers and pillows shifting, and finally the sound of something being floated.

You make sure to give her time, though, and also to stay quiet while you continue your idle reading.

"By Celestia… how come you are feeling so well Velvet?" she asks, after a few minutes, still sitting on her bed while she sips from her glass of water.

You also notice that she has a hoof covering her eyes, so with a slight glow of your horn you close the curtains a little more. Not enough for the room to get dark of course, she still needs that uncomfortable encouragement to get up after all, but enough for your friend to not be in as much pain as she was before.

"You get used to it," you answer simply.

You might have missed a whole lot of partying while you grew up, having been locked inside your family's mansion for a long time after your accident. But you have attended one or two after you were a bit older.

You also drink with your husband every now and then, so you certainly have more experience than her, or at least resistance.

"And I've been up for a few hours now," you continue, making sure not to speak loudly, "a good breakfast and a shower also help wonders," you say with a smile, seeing that she is slowly getting her bearings back.

You have dismissed Ponpon for the day, but you could have the guards outside call for somepony of the castle's staff. In fact, you get up and head towards the door to do just that. As much as you know Rarity is physically starving, her headache will probably stop her from realizing it anytime soon.

"You keep saying that I should get used to it but…" you hear her wince, although you already know where her thoughts are taking her, "this particular bit I wouldn't mind never having to experience again."

You let out a small laugh at that, slowly opening the door and asking the guards outside to have something brought up for her.

They are Cadance's guards, you realize. Ponpon had woken you up earlier, before you dismissed her, so you didn't realize this particular detail. Well, you don't exactly mind having her favor as a more permanent thing, at least while you are here for the search.

The guards nod at your request, their expression making it clear that this is something perfectly normal in the castle. One of them is gone down the corridor shortly after.

"Although… I can remember most of yesterday, but I can't remember us coming back. Did I doze off in the carriage or something?" you hear Rarity ask, still sitting in her bed and nursing her head, "my goodness, all that drinking did a number on me… I had the strangest dream, now that I think about it."

"A dream? What was it like?" you ask, your ears suddenly perking up.

"Well, we were in the carriage," she starts, talking slowly, since trying to remember it is clearly not being a painless experience, "but then we… actually, I was in the carriage, but it didn't have a roof? Goodness gracious, please don't get this wrong darling, but I'm pretty sure you were…"

You keep your expression neutral, perhaps even with a kind smile on your face considering your friend's sorry state, but you float your cushion in her direction and sit down in front of her regardless.

"I was…?" and you are honestly curious about this.

"You were on top of the carriage… I think? Looking down towards me, but you had this… it looked like a large barrel, that you were holding, and you were pouring down this drink on me."

"I was giving you a shower of wine?" you laugh, making sure to cover your mouth and keep your tone low.

"Oh believe me Velvet, it wasn't a shower, I was drowning in it," she says, laughing a bit herself, although you can see her wince in regret as she laughs.

Well, at least she has a bit of her humor back, you nod with satisfaction.

And more importantly… the Drowning Waters? You know you did something last night, but you are not sure what it was. Nothing unladylike, you are sure, at least not that you remember. But you are absolutely sure that it involved a secret.

And a dream about the Drowning Waters all but confirms it, although curiously you are not sure what it means yourself. You are not even sure why you are so confident that this… thing, has this particular name, now that you think about it.

Maybe it is something you heard from your Master once? Maybe it's because of some other reason..?

"Yes, but after that…" she trails off, her expression a little more nebulous now, "I was drowning, yes, but then I was… I feel like I was washed off on a beach?"

Your ears perk up again, and you make a conscious effort to keep your eyes from going wide open. You all but will her to keep talking with your stare, although you can see that she is struggling to remember what happened next as much she is struggling to put it into words.

"I was washed off and… the scenery completely changed, no carriage or wine anymore, no. I was on this… beach, but the sand was black, and there were these… these paths? Like these roads of blue stone and…"

A small shiver goes down your spine, but Rarity is gently shaking her head, and taking a generous gulp from her glass of water, before she continues to speak.

"Never mind, darling. It was just a strange dream," she says, waving a hoof and dismissing her thoughts.

"Yes, it does sound like you simply had too much to drink," you answer, summoning up a friendly laugher from her.

Inside your head, however, you make a mental note. This is definitely something you will circle back to talk about with her, later.

"So, you just make sure to rest for today," you say, getting up from your cushion and heading towards the door, "I'll go check on the breakfast thing with the guards. The search efforts will continue tomorrow, but I will not," you stress that last word, "let you help if you aren't in tip-top conditions."

You say with a wink, seeing her nod with a mixture of appreciation and defeat at that.

Good, you think to yourself as you head out through the door. There will be a time for everything else, but for now your friend needs her rest.



Rarity has had the Dream and, most curiously, did so through a method you do not know or understand. But you doubt that she will be able to do so again without help, yours or otherwise. And even then, the crossroads are only the beginning.









You and Rarity walk into the great dining hall that was converted into the heart of the search efforts for Princess Luna. The two of you spent the entirety of the last day doing basically nothing, except for a walk around the castle after the sun had set.

The place is enormous, and there was no shortage of routes and particular spots for you to pick from after asking a few guards for pointers about it. But still, it felt somewhat… empty. You are not entirely sure of why it felt like that, but maybe it was because Princess Celestia was not there, so the entire place felt rather devoid of life and activity, as much as Princess Cadance has been doing her utter best to keep the capital running.

Or maybe, it was because every time you looked out through a window, or passed by an open garden, you looked up to see the sky almost completely empty of stars.

All the more motivation to get back to work, you figure.

But this time you know what to do.



[A dazzling tour, breakpoints 40/80/120]

[Rarity's roll: 49 + 15 (Rarity) + 20 (Royal Favor) + ?? (Grail?) = ??]

[Second breakpoint crossed]



You finish your letter to the Cartographers Guild, and many others. The librarian's union, a few offices of accounting, heavens you even wrote to one or two low noble houses that you thought were more on the agreeable side during the party you went to. You ask everypony you can think of for help, but with every request you make you also hint about some potential reward.

Of course, you have neither the authority nor the funds to make good of those rewards, but you don't spell them out or make direct promises either. Again, you merely hint at them.

Potential opportunities of exploration for the cartographers, possible access to the less public parts of the Royal Library for the librarians, the obvious "it will really look good" for the nobles. All of those should be self-evident, you think, but you still feel that it warrants a try, for good measure.

But of course, you also know that a simple letter will probably not cut it, especially considering the efforts that the Crown has made to do the same thing. Almost everypony who can help has already either volunteered or has been summoned at least twice.

However, you think hopefully, the third time just might be the charm. Especially when you are using the card you have up your sleeve.

"And make sure you ask to talk to their director, or leader, or head of staff, or whatever. Oh, but don't shy from letting whoever you pass by, while in their building, know what you are doing there," you continue talking as you magically seal the final envelopes.

"Velvet."

"And for heaven's sake, using Cadance's chariot and guards is good, but don't use it when you head for the noble district. It might blow up on our faces without us even realizing," you say, ticking off more items from your mental list.

"Covers, darling I-"

"But also, don't waste an opportunity if you see one, follow your instincts and all that. The very worst thing that can happen is you getting a harsh 'no' thrown at you and-"

"Darling, this time you are the one who is worrying too much," Rarity interrupts you, her words cutting through a small curtain of nervousness that was hanging around you, one that you didn't even know was there, "I think I've picked up enough from you during my time here. I'll be just fine!" she says with a confident smile.

You look at her, seeing her expression that is equally determined and just a little bit amused, and you give her a nod, letting out a long sigh.

"I know, I know… I trust you," you say, sagging in your seat as you float the letters towards her, feeling her pick them up with her own magic and put them in her saddle purse.

Your eyes go over the enormous map in front of you, and then you raise them to look at the room around you, to the several armored and uniformed Royal Guards, each doing a specific task.

They are being as productive as they can possibly be, but you know that this is not what they are suited for. Neither their training nor their cutie marks being able to help them run through books and reports and maps and…

"Well... good luck Rarity," you say, your voice equally defeated and honest. You have given her the letters and the addresses, and she will have Cadance's guards to take her. There is really nothing else you can do.

"I won't let you down Velvet," she answers, with something that you think might even be excitement.

Well, you think as you watch her go, you couldn't find anything for her to do that really helped in the organizational part of the search, in all honesty. But this, trying to rally more ponies to the cause, more influential ponies that is, just might be the very best way to use her skills in this situation. Social skills are, after all, not exactly useful when it comes to pushing paper.

And Rarity has those skills to spare. That, and dressmaking of course. So this is really the best you can come up with to have her help as much as she possibly can.

It sure will be a little lonely, though. But you will have Ponpon for company, as usual, and by now you have quite a pleasant work relationship with Shining Armor.

It will have to do.



You don't see Rarity for the rest of the week, save during the nights when you finally return to your room, or during a few odd visits she does to the search hall, mostly to ask you or Shining Armor for some few details about Canterlot or a quick piece of advice.

However, you do notice the results of her efforts soon enough. A not unreasonable number of specialists, experts, and even two nobles, arrive as the days go by. They come directly to you, without even being pointed in your direction by the Royal Guards, and you quickly give them a good number of tasks that you think will suit them best.

Finally, this place is getting properly staffed, you think at one moment. If this keeps going on, you might even consider telling Shining that he should send some of his own guards to the front of the search parties.

In fact... yes, that thought has given you an idea.

Although you already know at first glance that putting it into practice will be extremely complicated...



[Rarity has gathered you some extra help in the form of bureaucrats, specialists, and more. Their arrival and subsequent efforts will accumulate to a +20 bonus on your own efforts as the week progresses.]





"Shining Armor? Could you come here for a second?" you call for the unicorn, seeing him dismiss two of his officers before he heads in our direction.

"What can I help you with?" he asks, coming to your side. He notices your concentrated expression quickly, and soon enough his own eyes go towards the direction that you are facing.

You are eyeing the map before you, the one whose surface dominates the central table, with a wrinkle on your brow.

More specifically, you are eyeing the marble piece of an alicorn, that is currently resting over the printed representation of the mountains towards the Undiscovered West, and a few moments later Shining realizes that as well.

"This is the main organizational hub of the search…" you start saying, almost as if you are talking to yourself, putting your own thoughts in order, "and our work here is about more than just distributing supplies, this is also about organizing efforts."

That same map has several marks and areas drawn over it, the most recent among them being the trio of interlocked grids, in green, blue and brown, indicating the places where the race-specific search parties are supposed to go. Organizing, on a greater level, how each hub is supposed to cover for each other's areas and deficiencies.

"But this whole time, that particular piece has been beyond out control. Well, not control," you snap out of your reverie, your etiquette and education taking the best of you, "Princess Celestia can very well do as she pleases. But still…"

You shake your head, pushing your half-formed thoughts to the side. You honestly hope that Shining will be able to help you with this.

"Is she really incommunicable? Princess Cadance is standing regent, but is there no way at all that we might reach Princess Celestia?" you ask, hoping that he might know something that you don't, mainly by virtue of being a captain of her personal guard.

And besides, she has been keeping some links to the castle. It might be a simple (simple by alicorn standards, that is) spell, but the small marble statue teleports on its own around the map, so you know she didn't just up and disappear in some desperate search for her sister.

"Well, she hasn't been keeping in touch officially but…" he looks around and lowers his tone, clearly wary about being overheard, "I know that I can tell you this, at least. Cadance has been keeping in touch with her, but the missives and letters have been short, at best. Princess Celestia is doing… fine," you feel the hesitation in his voice as he says that last word, "but things might stay the way they are for a while longer."

You nod at that. At least, you think, she still is in touch with her own kingdom and-

"Wait, hold on," your mind grinds into a halt at a specific detail.

Cadance?

Did Royal Guard Captain Shining Armor, the straight and narrow drilled pony, just name-dropped a Princess like that? Without the use of her titles? The very titles he has probably been drilled to use even on his dreams, since the very first day he joined the guard?!

You can feel your thoughts, the serious thoughts about the search, being totally derailed into a train wreck. But you can't stop yourself from…

"By Cadance you mean Princess Cadance, right? Princess," you stress that word in a very specific way, a very particular way, "Mi Amore Cadenza, right…?"

And you see his eyes go wide, as if he had just made a mistake that, on a personal level, he has been trying to avoid for the longest time. His shock only lasts a moment, but you see it.

"I uh… I mean, yes. Her highness, Princess Cadence," he answers quickly, tripping over his words for a fraction of a second before he corrects himself.

And that causes your own eyes, in turn, to go wide, a completely unrelated part of your brain connecting a set of ideas with an audible "click".

You recall your conversation with Cadance, and how the mare was able to completely dance around the subject of who she is interested in. As much as the conversation left her completely flabbergasted, your own assaults and insinuations growing bolder and bolder in their ridiculousness as the time passed and you realized just how approachable she really was.

But in the end, you had failed. You had been more than satisfied that you managed to make the Princess laugh, gossip, and maybe unwind a little, but you didn't manage to discover exactly who she is interested in.

At least... until right now?

"Ohhh…" a smile appears on your face. A wry smile, completely out of place in the serious environs of the search hall.

But you can't bring yourself to care, not during these short few seconds.

"So it's you," you say, giving him a look.

A knowing look, eyeing him up and down like on the first time you and Rarity saw him.

"Of course it would take somepony of her level to get a hold of all this, yes it all makes so much sense now…!" you whisper to yourself, but purposefully on a tone that Shining Armor will be able to hear.

And the stallion understands exactly what you mean, his cheeks lighting up and sweat appearing on his forehead. This all but confirms everything, as it becomes utterly obvious to you that Cadance must have commented about your own chat with her.

"I-I… have no idea what you mean, Lady Velvet and," he clears his throat loudly, taking a deep breath, and continuing to talk with the clear and commanding tone he has probably learned to use as a captain, "and we really should focus on our work, my lady. No time for horseplaying."

You let out a chuckle, still smiling while you stare a pair of holes into his own eyes. But to the captain's credit, his composure breaks down only very slightly.

You give him a knowing nod, all but whispering an "I see…", and you get back to what you were going to talk to him about.

"As I was saying," you do your level best to push those thoughts aside, forcefully bringing your ideas about the search back to the fore. The process takes longer than you hoped it would, and you shake your head slightly to try and dismiss your recent finding.

Not before promising yourself to tell Rarity about it, of course.

But you eventually reach the calm mindset that you know will be needed for all of this.

"Again… as I was saying," you say after a good set of deep breaths, "Princess Celestia. We have been tracking her progress, and we know where she has been. And it is probably a safe bet to assume that the parts she has been through can be considered properly, and thoroughly, searched," you look at Shining Armor, your eyes telling him that you hope he can confirm that.

He takes a quick look around, seeing that nopony else is paying attention to your conversation, and then he nods. Good, so Celestia has probably been keeping Cadance updated about that.

"But the places she has been to are all places we can't send our search parties," Shining says, turning his attention back to the map, "they are all too dangerous for the volunteers, and for good reason."

You nod at that. He is correct, and your own map reflects that. The three interlocked grids reach for almost every last part of the Pony Kingdom, but only almost, even the parts that are farther away, the ones marked to be searched later, are at a first glance places that can be reasonably or safely reached. But the places that the alicorn statue has been to are all out of those areas.

Mountaintops, deep forests, swamps, deserts, all places that Shining Armor's ponies have, unanimously, deemed too dangerous for the search parties be sent to.

"True," you say, "those areas are indeed far too dangerous…"

He raises an eyebrow at that, and you can see that he is already forming the question of what exactly your point might be, then.

"But what if we prepare a search party not comprised of volunteers?"

That freezes his question while it is still inside his throat, but you can see another, more obvious question, being formed instead.

"Before you ask me about the obvious safety concerns," you interrupt his nearly-spoken question again, "and the details about all of it, hear me out first."





[Celestia's finest, breakpoints 50/100/150]

[Roll: 73 + 10 (Stewardship) + 20 (Rarity's efforts) = 103]



It took some work… a lot of it, truth be told.



"Your best mares and stallion, your best gear, everything we can spare and maybe a few things we can't."

"Velvet Covers, there is a reason as to why Princess Celestia is going to those places alone. They are too dangerous!"



And the general efforts of the search did not stop while you were at it, of course. The greater scope of the parties of volunteers still had to be efficiently directed to their destinations, supplies still had to be distributed, emergencies, both big and small, still made their way to you.

"This is a dangerous idea, but it is not a thoughtless one. Look, there are places like those, out of the volunteer's reach, that practically touch their assigned grids. We can have support camps set up there, relief would only be one hour of flying away at most. I'm not suggesting that we send a team to the Dragonlands, I'm suggesting that we send ponies to the dangerous places within the Pony Kingdom. Take a few of those spots out of Celestia's plate before she gets to them, ease her burden even if just a tiny little bit."

"We are talking about mountaintops, Velvet! For the Princesses' sake, it's dangerous swamps! Filled with ruins, and beasts and all sorts of things. Those are the kinds of places that ponies disappear in. One hour of flying can be too long under those circumstances!"



But even while you were doing all of that, you slowly made preparations for your other idea. You had a list of the Royal Guard's best soldiers prepared, you marked the places that were within the Pony Kingdom and were close to the pegasus-specific assigned areas. You did everything in your power to prepare a team.

The search efforts were already on their way, and with the extra volunteers that Rarity was bringing in it would soon be able to walk on its own four legs. Soon enough everypony would be doing their very best, every last cutie mark and skill brought to your disposal would be leveraged on the most efficient way possible.

All of them, of course, except for those of the Royal Guard itself.

And you had no real authority over the Royal Guard, you had no real authority at all on the search efforts, in fact. No, the only way to bring your plan into fruition would be by convincing somepony who had said authority.



"But is that not the duty of the Royal Guard? Would you not die for your Princess?"



Perhaps you were too harsh when you asked him that. For a moment you even thought you had lost him as a friend. But the shock you saw in his eyes, the one you mistook for a recently borne animosity, slowly turned into…

A grim resolve…

Captain Shining Armor thought for a deep, long and silent moment. But in the end, after taking a deep breath, he nodded, saying then and there that he would lead the Royal Guard search party himself.

And you could see the reasoning in that. His cutie mark, his very name, Shining Armor as well as every last pony in the guard, royal or regular, had been borne with the innate desire to protect others. You just had to… remind him, remind them, of what that could really mean. But by the mark on their flanks, once they realized that you knew that they would not back down from their duties.

That certainty, that understanding of what one is supposed to do in their lives, is truly the gift, and the curse, of the cutie marks.

Shining Armor only came back after you… had a short note hurriedly rushed towards Cadance, by one of the guards she had accompanying you. You hoped you had not overstepped your boundaries with the Princess. But when you saw the captain return only a few hours later, with his still grim expression marred with a tinge of defeat and the clear signs of a prolonged and nasty argument, you knew she had agreed with you and taken the proper course of action.

The two of you… or rather, the three of you, knew that this idea was dangerous, but it seems Cadance agreed with you when it came to that last selfish detail about how it was supposed to go.



But right now…? Now there is nothing left to do. It is the night of the fifth day, and it has been more than forty eight hours since the Royal Guard search party, comprised by twenty four ponies hoofpicked by Shining Armor himself, left for the San Palomino desert.

A support team would be stationed on Los Pegasus around the clock, ready to head out into the blistering desert at a moment's notice should the search team call for help through any of the safeguards that had been prepared, magical or otherwise.

But still, no desert is a safe place, even less so when a pony is expected to search through every last underground cavern, to comb every last stretch of sand-filled land.

Still, this is the last stretch of effort you can possibly add to this whole search. You have improved the search efforts as much as you could, and the rest of the staff, now mostly composed of civilians and volunteers, is ready to continue the work come next week.

Progress has been made. You have no idea how it will turn out, but you are sure that everypony will be able to hold their heads high and say they did their very best.

You recall Princess Luna's sleeping figure, in her own dreams, and you hope that it will be enough.

Still, you take one last look around you, watching everypony do their part, and you allow yourself a nod of satisfaction. Shining Armor, too, has recuperated himself from his sour mood, and is pouring over the Royal Guard's report, personally supervising their efforts as they comb the deadly desert.

You could stay here for a while longer, but you are also acquaintanced with the sweet trap of overworking. You know that there will be always more work left to do, so you know when you are supposed to simply stop and leave.

Granted, you can overwork yourself just fine when you have the time. You almost didn't sleep during your first days here, after all. But that was at the beginning of it, when you still had endless hours ahead of you, and a mountain of work to get through.

But right now? Seeing the search effort progress like a moderately well oiled machine? You don't mean to pat your own back, but you do believe that you would need another two weeks to make this place any more efficient, and even then you would probably not meet with much success.

And you don't have two weeks anymore, and neither will checking the lists of a final supply run make any difference in the search so… well, there is nothing left for you to do here.

You idly look at the central map one last time and-



And you see the alicorn statue blink in a short burst of teleportation magic.

Only for it to land on the San Palomino desert, nearly tipping over the flag symbolizing the Royal Guard search party.



"Shining… Shining Armor, come here," you call for the stallion, not taking your eyes out of the map.

He is by your side moments later, and you can hear him mutter something when he notices the same thing.

"That is… unexpected. I will have word sent to them, although there is an enormous chance that we will hear from them first or th-"

The captain freezes, however, when the alicorn statue starts to glow again. The eyes of both of you, in fact, go wide open when you see that the statue is not preparing for another teleportation.

No, this time it starts to float, spinning faster and faster as it does, moving towards another part of the map.

And moments later it is floating right on top of Canterlot, the statue spinning like a wheel and shining with enough strength to look like a miniature sun.

You don't even have time to express your surprise before the statue disappears into a burst of light, the boom of pressurized air echoing through the room as a large sphere of pure magic materializes in the air.

You are bowing before you even realize it. Every last pony in the room is.

Princess Celestia is now floating over the table, her form gently falling down towards it until you hear the click of her horseshoes landing against its map covered surface.

You are breathless.

Never before, in your whole life, have you felt anything like this. Not while awake, at least, not while in a place like this.

Not in the Wake.

And you have not even looked up yet. You have not even confirmed with your own eyes that it really is the Princess, you just know. Her very presence feels like it applies a physical pressure on the very air. You can almost tell where she is looking at because it almost feels like heat is coming out from her eyes.

And you know that if you do look up you will see it all there. Presence, and power, and wisdom, and might, and all the other things that have guided ponykind for as long as history remembers.

The thing before you is old, you know. You have seen older things, and she is not as old as those, but you can feel that same weight and kinship about her.

"Everypony," you hear her say, her voice clear and calm, "leave us."

She clicks a hoof against the table for emphasis. The movement is unnecessary, you know, but it gets the point across regardless. Everypony, you included, is hurriedly standing up to make for the nearest exit.

"Not the two of you, Shining, Velvet," she adds.

You freeze on the spot, your mind stuck on the imperative that you are not supposed to leave, although you have no idea why, at the same time as your more rational side is wondering why in the heavens she could have possibly singled you out like that. You can understand her calling for Shining Armor of course, but you?

And more importantly, how in the heavens does she even know your name to begin with?

The door is shut close by the last pony leaving, before you turn to face the Princess.

And what you see is…

Well, you can safely say that now you understand what everypony means when they speak about the Princess of the Sun.

She is tall, taller than a pony will ever be, and then twice that. A single wing of hers is as large as a single pegasus' total wingspan, and you have the faint impression that her horn might be as long as you are tall.

But that is not all. The aura she has around her, that pressure that she seems to emit, seems almost like a physical thing when you look directly at her. Her mane gently floating on an invisible breeze, gleaming with the colors of an aurora borealis, her eyes steady and strong, absolutely sure of what must be done.

And those eyes, right now, are looking at Shining Armor. You are not sure how the captain is being able to meet her gaze so calmly.

"Hello, Shining Armor," the demigoddess speaks, her tone surprisingly… normal.

"My Princess," he answers back, with another short bow.

To which the Princess, that awesome avatar of power and order, answers with a… with a simple sigh.

A long, drawn out sigh, as if she is trying to completely empty her lungs of air, as if she is trying to empty her entire body until she becomes smaller, like a balloon might lose its volume as it is drained of air.

And as her sigh goes on and on you… a part of you swears that she is doing just that.

Princes Celestia is not becoming any smaller, or less powerful, or less tall, but she is definitely… you can't describe it in any other way apart from that she is "diminishing" herself.

Her awesome aura is disappearing like a setting sun, her gleaming coat is becoming utterly regular, perhaps even with a few dirty spots here and there that would have seemed unthinkable a few seconds ago.

Her eyes are… there are so many bags under her eyes, and she looks so very tired now.

And much like they were looking at Shining Armor, those eyes are now staring at you.

But you don't feel intimidated anymore. Quite on the contrary, you feel…

"Hello, Velvet Covers. I don't believe we have met before."

You feel sorry, for her.

"My Princess," you answer, bowing shortly as Shining Armor just did.

Her eyes then go to the table, and the map underneath her hoofs. She gives a single gracious flap of her wings, enough for her to jump to the ground without sound, but for some reason not disturbing a single piece of paper on the table itself.

You can see her looking at the work of the search efforts, and for all her tiredness you know that she is taking all of it in during those short few seconds.

"Cadance has been keeping me up to date about a few things," she says slowly, meaningfully, "but I honestly didn't expect to find our ponies out in such a dangerous place… Truly, your efforts here have been commendable."

She turns back to the two of you, and you know that she has completely processed the entirety of the search efforts in those few moments. You see it in her eyes, the satisfied expression of a teacher, the subtle look of a pony who is about to nod with approval.

"It was all thanks to Lady Covers, my Princess," Shining Armor says, much to your own chagrin, for some reason, "we wouldn't be doing nearly as well if it wasn't for her. In fact, although I am happy that you have come, I am a little grateful you have not visited us two weeks ago," he says with a small smile.

You think you hear the Princess chuckle slightly at that.

But not even that bit of good humor from her can take away your focus of just how utterly... how incredibly tired Celestia looks.

Ever since she did… whatever she did, that allowed you to see her normally, you have not taken your eyes away from her.

How can Shining Armor be treating her so normally? You can see evidence of how unwell she is everywhere you look. You see how skinny she is, probably from not eating properly during her searches, if she is even eating at all. You see the telltale signs of magical overuse, those slightly discolored veins spreading from the base of her horn.

Also her eyes… something inside of you whispers that she has not slept at all, ever since this whole ordeal started. That she can't bring herself to sleep because she dreads the thought that she will dream and not feel the presence of her sister, and that it would be too much for her to bear.

And as she faces you, you see it. You see that final piece of self-imposed cruelty, that final evidence that all your worries are well founded. Princess Celestia is looking back at you, and you know that she knows about her own state. You know that she is old enough to have that level of self-knowledge.

However, she continues to do this. Willingly. All of this, not just the searches. All of it.

She chooses to continue ruling ponykind, she chooses to keep raising the sun and moon, and to care for the mortal affairs of ponies. She chooses to carry the weight of the whole world on her back.

In fact, this whole search, her own efforts in it, might be the only bit of selfishness that she has allowed herself in centuries. The one defiance she has made against her own rules, because they involve the one pony she would be willing to break them for.

But that is simply not fair, and you know it. Perhaps in all of Equestria you are the only pony who knows it, bar the Princess herself. You know that she was borne into this world, you remember the bits of knowledge from Princess Luna's dream. You know that, alicorn or not, she is a pony the same way you or Shining Armor are, you know that this can't be easy or pleasant for her.

You know that, awesome mind or not, perfect body or not, age of wisdom or not, she still has feelings.

And no matter who you are, what she is going through is just too much.

"Well then," she says, her voice calm and nurturing despite the obvious dryness of her throat, her expression calm and collected despite the obvious exhaustion in it, "it seems that you have done me a great favor then, Velvet Covers. And I know that it must have been especially hard for you to do this, considering the current complications that Canterlot is living through."

You almost feel like interrupting her, you almost feel like shouting at her. How can she be so calm in a situation like this? How can she even care, about talking to you, or Shining, or to anypony else?! The more time you spend looking at her, the more it becomes glaringly obvious to you.

She needs to rest, and to eat, and to talk with a friend, and maybe she even needs to cry. And above all else, she needs her sister back. How in the heavens can she stand to be here, having a pleasant conversation with you, when you can't even stand to look at her after knowing what she is going through?!



But then...



But then you remember how the world looked like, through Princess Luna's eyes. The world itself looked like the same, of course, but you remember the rush she felt when she raised the moon, the emotions that rushed through her when she looked down on Equestria and saw everything she had to protect. Everything she needed to protect, that she was borne to protect.

And you realize that Princess Celestia must have felt that same thing, every day of her life, for the last thousand years. It must have been a beacon of motivation, right next to the aching wound that her sister's absence must have felt like, but…

You let out an internal, defeated sigh. This is not your place to chime in. She is too old, and too powerful, and has made a pact with something that was even older and even more powerful. You are a foal before her, and as much as you might want to help her, or want to see her be helped, you also know that this is not the time or place for that. That it is not your place to do it, either.

This, you realize, is why everypony thinks of her as a demigoddess. And this, you also realize, must be the weight that her cutie mark must have. The weight caused by having a life long calling to nurture and guide, when you are an immortal being capable of moving the very heavens. Asking her not to do this, all of this... asking her not to nurture and guide Equestria, would be the same as asking Cadance not to love, or as asking Rarity not to create.

"I cannot remain long, unfortunately," she continues, ignorant, or choosing to ignore, your plight. Ignorant, or choosing to ignore, her own plight, "I will keep the progress of the search efforts in mind, and move accordingly. However…"

She takes a step towards you.

"Velvet Covers, I can see that you have been very kind to me. Is there any way I may repay your kindness?"



[Voting options will be available at the end of the update]

[Velvet Covers has thrice overperformed during the search for Princess Luna, and has realized that she has a knack for the administration of large projects. Well, even more so than she already knew after years of administering her family's Estate. Gains the trait "Queen" "Mare Administrator: +2 Stewardship, +10 when organizing the projects that span large areas, or that involves the effort of several other ponies".]



And after that, the Princess of the Sun is gone, the same marble statue taking her place as she disappears into thin air, moving towards another dangerous and faraway place of Equestria.

Leaving you unsure about what you should even think about her… Princess Cadance seems normal and approachable, an affable mare that by some means ascended into alicornhood. Princess Luna, as well, felt understandable, although you realize that she was young during her dreams. That she is young even now, having lost so much time of her life.

But Princess Celestia? She might be the only pony who has actually lived all those centuries, with a mind capable of keeping track of it, and with a body and intellect capable of thriving and growing during that whole time.

Which makes you wonder how utterly lonely that must have felt like, watching everypony around her grow old and die, foals that would meet the same fate taking their place. Knowing that the only pony who would ever be able to keep her company was locked away in the moon, by her own hoofs…

You feel very sorry for Princess Celestia, and much like you hoped for Princess Luna when you saw her sleeping in her dreams, you hope that Princess Celestia, too…

You have no words for it, in the end.

For all the hate your Master seems to feel for her, you can't help but to truly wish her well.









You wake up in the middle of the night, drawing a deep gasping breath as if you had been choking seconds earlier.

The room is completely dark, which makes you promptly close your eyes. Your heaving has not woken up Rarity, you see, but you also notice that…

That there is something utterly wrong with this place, not wrong in an intimidating or dreadful way, but still wrong nonetheless. You see it in a thousand small details, the half-opened cabinet that you swear you had left closed, the slightly different way your luggage is piled at the corner of your room.

You are out of your bed, and out through the door, moments later.

There are no guards standing outside the door either.

You walk through the corridors of the castle, feeling that there is something wrong with the whole place. You can't rightly place a hoof on what it is, though.

At least until you reach the doors that lead to the dining hall, the one where Princess Luna's search is being orchestrated from. And that is because you see another door, on the corridor by your side, slightly opened.

That door, you are sure, does not exist. Not in the castle you know, not in the corridor that you have passed through every day for the last two weeks.

You go through the door.

It is a small storage room, another one that had been repurposed for the search efforts. Something that must have been a pantry months ago, repurposed to storage book cabinets, and tables, and utensils for the search staff that had been or might be useful.

And on one of the tables, the one on the farthest corner of the room, you see an open map.

And a pen, a writing pen made from a bird's feather, laid on top of the map.

A chill runs down your spine.

You remember. Weeks ago, on the makeshift circle kept under Windy Flake's shop, you have performed a ritual. A small ritual, that could attract the attention of certain laws and powers.

The laws you wished to attract were those of the world itself, of the many paths that the world might take, and of the many secrets and histories that may or may not have happened.

And the price of that ritual was that you had to lose something yourself, a small offering to be forgotten by you, so that the world might, in return, allow you to remember something that it had forgotten.

The thing you chose to lose was a feathered pen, which you had buried on the center of the ritual circle. Which you had buried in a way that, no matter how much you dug for it, you knew you would never find it again.

And by all the stars in the sky, you swear to the heavens that the same pen you buried is now right in front of you, over that map.

You walk towards the map. You thought your steps would be slow, that your gait would be fearful, for surely something very strange is going on. But no, you walk with purpose and calm, because you know…

You know that this is how the world works, you know that this is merely a reaction for an action, a result of a law.

It really doesn't take any effort at all.

You look upon the map, and you find it almost immediately.

It is right there, it was right there all this time, in plain sight. So obvious in its location, so glaring in its signs.

This is so easy, in fact, that you don't even know what to do next, you don't know who to thank, or how to act. You have no idea of how you are supposed to honor these powers that look upon you, and close this circle that you find yourself in.



Except for one way. One incredibly obvious way.



A part of you thinks that this idea is delusional, that it will only present a risk. A part of you thinks that, although astronomically small, what you are about to do might just be enough of a hint that it may be found by somepony, and that said pony may have all your efforts and secrecy ruined if they realize what your action means.

But another part of you, a smaller yet resolute part of you, knows that such worries are not true. You know that this is how things are supposed to be, you know that these circles can only be closed in one way.

Circumstances like these may only ever be closed… with a paradox.

You take the pen in your hoofs, seeing that there is a trace of ink on its tip, and you draw a circle on the map. You draw a circle around that spot, where the river meets two hills, so small that they were almost not drawn into the map. You pen down in ink, for all to see, the location where Princess Luna is hidden, the place that many ponies would pay fortunes to find, the place that a demigoddess would do anything to discover.

You circle it, and leave it there, in that forgotten side-room filled with old maps.

Because you know that the only pony who will ever find that circle is yourself, in another History.

You know that the paradoxical question, of whether if that circle was drawn before or after Princess Luna was found, will never be answered by anypony in this History.

And you know that leaving behind such a question, such an unanswerable riddle, is enough payment for whatever powers brought you here in the first place.

You go back to your room, back to your bed, and you know that you will wake up where you are supposed to wake come next morning.

And you gently go to sleep, hoping that another Velvet Covers has left your bed warm for your return.



[Search bonuses: +15 (Learning, SH doubled) +20 (SECRET HISTORIES, doubled) + 15 (The First Search, third threshold) + 25 (The Second Search, fifth threshold) + 20 (The Third Search, second threshold) = 95]

[Your accumulated bonuses were enough to guarantee success, and that has attracted the attention of certai-]



You have located the place where Princess Luna is, and will be able to set out on a Expedition to reach it.

But… how did you do it? What exactly happened?

[] You have "skipped" into another place, one where you had already discovered where she was, and you merely followed your own breadcrumbs, and such passages are providence of a specific Lore. Gain 1 scrap of KNOCK Lore.

[] You became a linchpin, around which every possible answer rotated. Not the map, not the world, not even Luna herself knew where she was… until you circled it with your feathered pen. Gain 1 scrap of SECRET HISTORIES Lore.









And what might you ask of Princess Celestia?

[] Nothing, you being here is not even kindness, it is the right thing to do. (This will cause you to get into Princess Celestia's notice).

[] Nothing, I am but a scion of my family, it is them who you should look favorably towards. (Princess Celestia will favor the Velvet family. Give the fruits of the entirety of your efforts to your father, and win great favor from him… you hope.]

[] I would ask for a boon. (WRITE IN, ask Princess Celestia for a boon)
> Turn 6 - Results, part 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



You have not met anypony (or any group) in particular. But thanks to your uncle you were able to "clear your name" from your family's bad reputation.
You also asked for no boons from Celestia. She will certainly remember this.
Finally, you located Princess Luna by becoming a linchpin on the Histories. That did not go unnoticed.



You stare back at her, looking deep into her eyes the same way she is looking into yours. You stare back at that awesome avatar of streng-… no, at the extremely tired and mortal mare before you.

She has just asked you a question, but for some reason you can't bring yourself to answer it. You almost can't even remember what the question is at all. She is asking what she can give you for your services? Even now, at the state she is currently in, she is asking on how she can give?

You look into her eyes, but as much as you want to, you can't find it in you to do anything else. You can't find the strength inside of you to answer her back, you can't find the will in you to ask anything of her, not like this.

And she notices it.

"Nothing at all…?" she asks, her head tilting slightly, "or is it that you…"

Suddenly, her eyes seem a lot more focused.

Focused on you, that is.

There is no real change to them, or rather, something about them is changing that you can't exactly place a hoof on. You can't explain what it is. But the way she is looking at you is completely different now.

As if this whole time she had merely been looking "through" you, facing your direction out of politeness while talking to you. But now… she seems to be looking "into" you.

Nothing changed, not the position of her eyes, not her posture, nothing apart from the slight tilt of her head.

Nothing changed, except for everything.

She is not just looking at you, she is not just analyzing you, she is not merely scrutinizing you. She is reading you. And you immediately feel like a fool, or a foal, for having thought that the bags under her eyes or the tiredness in her body might have done anything to cloud her judgement, let alone her millennia-spanning wisdom.

But still, you keep staring back at her, this time out of unwillingness to… To what? To be found lacking? To be found wanting?



To have your part in all of this exposed?



Your thoughts start to race, wondering if perhaps this is being a mistake. Wondering if perhaps, thanks to accumulated experience or some obscenely powerful magic she might wield without a smote of effort, she might be doing something like reading your mind. For an unbearably long moment you think that, maybe, being here with her is a huge mistake. Although you know you have no choice on the matter, not anymore at least.

"Ah, I see…"

Until she nods. A curiously satisfied nod, as if she had just appraised a work of art and concluded it to be of her liking.

"I'm sorry that I took so long to realize," she says, blinking and shaking her head a little, "and I am sorry if my question made you uncomfortable."

You feel something inside of you sag, slightly, as the Princess' attention on you becomes a lot less detailed, and a lot more friendly. Well, as friendly as you can dare to assume she is being, that is.

"Uncomfortable, my Princess?" you ask, hesitantly, "not at all, it's just that I…"

That you didn't know how to answer her question…? No, that's not it. The fact remains that you found her question absurd to begin with, and there is no hiding it in your eyes.

Not from her.

And as soon as you think that, the Princess nods as if agreeing with you, and you can't help but feel a slight shiver at the thought that, perhaps, she can indeed read thoughts.

"It would not be fair for me to say that other ponies have not been kind to me," she says, her words filling in the gap left by your own hesitation, turning her gaze towards Shining Armor as well, "not when considering how hard everypony is working, or how many are lending their hoofs. But…"

She looks down towards you, and once again you feel like you are being read like an open book. You can see her eyes taking in the deep, and maybe senseless, worries that you feel for her. You can tell that she is doing it with less difficulty than you would have to notice the dirty spots on her coat.

"Well, I think you get what I mean."

And she gives you a wink.

Before you can even react, you feel a small surge of magic coming from her, the reverse effect of what had happened minutes ago taking place before your very eyes. Her grimy fur is quickly becoming spotless and white, almost with a shine about it. Her posture is becoming more regal and royal, different in a way that you can't name, but that you cannot deny.

A halo of incorporeal power seems to slowly appear around her, coming into existence like a rising sun, covering her in a mantle of something that you can only describe as perfection.

Gone is the worried and tired mare that is looking for her sister, the very notion that such a pony existed becoming ridiculous to even think of, when you stare at the creature before you.

Now, you see only Princess Celestia, regent of Equestria, ruler of the Sun and immortal leader of ponykind.

Moments later, that same energy around her becomes more physical, her aura transforming into an expanding sphere of golden light. You can feel the telltale signs of a teleportation magic being prepared, although of a scale and strength that you know to be impossible for anypony other than her.

"And don't worry," she says, with an honest smile, weaving the incredibly potent spell almost as an afterthought while she speaks to you, "I promise I will take care of myself."

And you believe her, out of some instinct that you can't rightly name, as if it was in your very nature to trust her completely.

The next moment, she is gone, the inward puff of a vacuum being filled by air announcing her departure, leaving you and Shining Armor in the silent hall.



It would only be hours later, when you were back on your bed, that you would realize that you are not sure, in all honesty, if…

If Princess Celestia was telling you the truth, in her promise.

Or if she was merely comforting you, speaking a lie to make you feel better as a parent might do to comfort their foals.

But regardless of which option is the truth, you now know that, at the very least, that moment of clarity amidst her exhaustion has allowed her to truly commit your name into her memory.

You wonder if that is a good thing.









The last two weeks have been long. Way too long for your liking.

But they are not over yet, as much as it pains you.

You try to let out a sigh of relief, as your carriage (Cadance's carriage, that is) takes you to the train station, or as the last piece of your luggage is loaded into the train, or as Ponpon closes the door of your cabin behind you, or even as the train starts moving.

But you can't. You know that you will only feel true relief when you are back at home. Your proper home, that is, with your husband and your daughter.

Really, it has been so long since the last time that you were away for any relevant period of time that you had forgotten what it felt like… you honestly consider asking Stormchaser to come with you, if you ever have to do something like this again. Although not having to repeat this experience at all sounds like a far better option.

"Velvet, are you alright?" Rarity, sitting opposite to you, snaps you out of your reverie, "your expression looks dreadful, darling. From the moment you woke up, mind you," she says.

You look at her, and then up at the ceiling, watching the chandelier of the cabin sway slightly as the train starts to move.

"No offence about your looks, of course," she says, partly as an afterthought and partly due to some ingrained habit of hers.

"I'm just…" you try to articulate what you are feeling, but in the end you find yourself fumbling for words.

"Restless?" she offers, causing you to hit your hoofs together with a clop sound.

"Yes, that!" you let out an exasperated tone, "heavens, these past two weeks were tiring…"

You look out through the window, seeing the capital slowly become more and more distant, until the whole scenery is suddenly overtaken by the darkness of the tunnels that cross the mountain.

You look back towards Rarity, the light of the chandelier being the only illumination in the room, and as much as it is more than sufficient to allow you to see clearly, it surely is also accentuating her slightly puzzled expression. Her slightly worried expression, that is.

Right… you have been keeping certain things from her, after all.

You sag on your seat, allowing the exhaustion from this whole experience to wash over you. The mental exhaustion, the emotional exhaustion, the kind of exhaustion that no amount of sleep can cure, and that nothing but peace and time can truly wash away. You see your friend's expression raise to a crescendo of worry at that, as she realizes just how drained you actually feel.

You open your mouth, and you almost start talking.

Almost.

You nearly tell her about the visit you made to your family's mansion, and the minute-long conversation you had with your father, the one that might as well have lasted for hours from the way you felt afterwards. All of that before the two of you even began working on the search itself.

You nearly tell her about how you dislike the whole high-society thing. Sure, you might be skilled at it, and it might be satisfying at times, but after years in Ponyville living a happy life you can't help but feel like you are slowly being smothered when you are in a place where your every word is being measured and weighted. About how being in charge of such a large operation slowly, but surely, took a toll on you, especially during the few days where Shining Armor was in his… particularly sour mood.

You almost, almost, tell her about how conflicted you feel, to be aiding in the search for a mare, a Princess no less, that you were partly responsible for the disappearance of.

Especially after Princess Celestia said you were kind. You fell anything but kind.

But again, you almost tell her all of that. Almost.

You close your mouth at the last moment.

For a moment you think that this is being stupid of you, hypocritical maybe. Rarity is your friend, a great friend, and you honestly trust her. You trust her to the point that you know without a doubt that even if you were to tell her all of that, her reaction would be to honestly worry about you, and maybe try to comfort you or calm you down, or even try to help you with a few of your problems.

So why don't you just tell her? Why not just be honest? She is a grown mare, there is no need to shield her from anything. Granted, maybe omitting a thing or two to ease her into the noble life, but…

Why keep this secret from her?

Why?



Why not?



You shrug, maybe it's just the way you are, after all. And it makes a bit of sense when you stop to think about it. There's not really anything that Rarity can do or help you with, except make you feel better.

So why even bother the effort? You can shoulder your weight just fine, and asking for her help will not make it any lighter, it will just transfer some of that weight to her. The source of your problems would still exist. So thinking like this is fine, right? You're not giving her unwanted protection, you are just saving her a bit of trouble, and perhaps a bit of suffering as well.

Its fine! You will be fine. You will just choose to keep this little secret.

"Oh, forget I said anything," you say, recomposing yourself, straightening up and dancing around your own words to calm her down, "just homesick and all… can't wait to be home."

And you give her a smile.

One that is so honest that she… believes in you.

"I understand completely," she agrees, nodding to herself, "Canterlot is simply dazzling, but it can be a bit tiring if we don't pace ourselves."

She can say that again, you think idly.

"But… well," she says, looking out through the window, the train having left the interior of one of the tunnels a few seconds ago, arching around the mountain in an angle that keeps the capital in view, "I can't say that it wasn't everything I've ever dreamed of, either… It was far more than that, in fact, and different in many ways I would have never imagined, but still…"

She stares out through he window of the cabin, her chin on a hoof as she looks longingly towards the receding city. Her eyes exactly like the ones of a mare in love, gazing at somepony whom she loves, but that for some reason is out of her reach.

Which reminds you that you haven't had the time to talk to her about a certain something…

"Well, now is a good time as any," you say to yourself, shaking Rarity out of her lovestruck gaze.

"Pardon, Velvet? What was that?"

"Nothing, really," you say, floating your saddle purse towards you and taking out a few scrolls. A contract that the Needles had sent you a few days after your meeting, as well as some other things. "But speaking of something else entirely…"

You unseal one of the smaller scrolls with a flick of magic, and float it towards your friend.

"Rarity, have you ever heard of the Needle family?"









Those were two long and exhausting weeks, each day slowly chipping at your energy reserves. And your own (and rather insane, somepony might add) working schedule didn't help you in the slightest. But although some moments made you feel conflicted, and others were outright unpleasant, you can't say that it was a poor investment of your time now that you reach the end of it.

You are still dreading the mountain of paperwork that is waiting for you back at home, thought.

Well, at least you are also bringing back with you the good sort of papers. They are tucked somewhere inside your luggage, or at least the ones you purchased are.



[Book Hunting – Servant Action]

[Roll: 55 + 12 (Learning) + 20 (Royal Favor) = 87]

-KNOCK Level 2 – "An absolutely boring encyclopedia about how the tunnels, on the mountain in which Canterlot is perched, were dug. Reading this will be a challenge…", costs 15 bits.

-GRAIL Level 2 – "It's a book. About food. It has food on the cover, so that's what it is. If your daughter ever finds it, that's what you'll tell her. If your husband finds it, however…", costs 15 bits.

-SECRET HISTORIES Level 3 – "A curious scroll, a copy from the original of course, detailing the appearance of King Sombra, centuries ago.", costs 30 bits.





You have introduced a pony to the RED secret. But, in some ways, you know so little about it that even by teaching you have learned something as well. Gain one scrap of GRAIL Lore.

You have talked to the right ponies, at the right moment, with the right company. Gain the "The good Velvet" status, which will cause you to no longer suffer from your family's… complicated reputation. Most of the time, that is.

You have mediated a deal with the Needle family, in which you will patron Rarity. 300 bits have been deducted from your personal coffers. And now you wait, and trust your friend…

You have seen something, or you have done something. Whatever it was, you know that it was not true, here, or that it was not real, in this world. But it happened regardless, and now you know where Princess Luna is thanks to it. Gain one scrap of SECRET HISTORIES Lore.

You have met Princess Celestia, the immortal ruler of ponykind. But perhaps, more importantly, she has seen something in you, giving you more attention than she usually would to the countless nobles she otherwise meets every day. You hope that she has seen something good in you… you hope that this means something good. Princess Celestia has been added to your Contacts list.









Your carriage comes to a complete stop, with you and Ponpon disembarking shortly after.

The differences between this carriage and the ones you had at your disposal in Canterlot are as stark as night is from day. This little carriage is smaller than the one of your family's main house, and trying to compare it with Cadance's own carriage is simply a bad joke.

But it is your carriage, the one that your family has, at your home. In Ponyville. And that makes it special.

By the heavens, considering how much you always disliked using it, with your husband's insistence and whatnot, you never thought you would miss this carriage. But here you are…

And also, "Just two weeks?", one might ask with a raised eyebrow? It was two entire weeks, thank you very much, and you are a mare of priorities. How would you feel about going two weeks without breathing?

As much as you dubiously missed the carriage, that thought is immediately forgotten as you take in the scene before you. A relieved sigh finally escapes your lips, long enough for you to think you see Ponpon looking towards you from your peripheral vision, but you don't really care.

This, right now, is a sight for sore eyes.

Your estate stands before you, the pathway flanked by trees and flowerbeds surrounded by leg-high fences. You practically stroll towards the front door, feeling the familiar scent of the grass and the particular way that the wind blows your mane after passing through the partial coverage of the greenery around you.

Of course, you can feel your pace getting faster and faster as you approach the door. A part of you even thinks that you would have run that last stretch if you were any younger, and if you didn't have a stark, and physical, reminder of why running is a bad idea in general.

But any last stain of restlessness you have in your heart is completely gone by the time you reach the front door.

You know what comes next.

Your horn glows with the familiar flow of magical energy, and the doorknob glows with the same light in return. You make sure to put some extra flare into it, so that the entirety of the thing, including the doorknob inside the house, glows as well.

And you hear the excited clamoring coming in the form of muffled squealing from the large wooden door, the one-filly storm that has surely been brewing up the entire morning in anticipation for this moment reaching its peak.

A smile crosses your face as you open the unlocked do-



"WELCOME HOME MOMMY!"



The brown blur hits you before you can even react, squeezing through the gap of the still-opening door as soon as it is physically possible, and zipping towards you right after, going straight for your neck.

"Silk-! By Celestia, didn't we agree we would do this together?!" your husband finishes opening the door right after, but his complaints about whatever agreement he had with his daughter immediately dies in his throat as his eyes finally meet yours.

You have your daughter tackling you from the neck, and you are all but tackling her back, rubbing your cheek against her small face, but as soon as you see your husband you immediately find room for one more pony in your embrace.

Of course, nearly immobilized as you currently are, he is the one that comes to you.

He looks at you with his honest and earnest eyes, and you immediately know that he missed you just as much as you missed him. His face is against yours moments later, in that familiar nuzzling that you love so much, and soon enough you and your daughter are surrounded by his wings, followed right after by the gentle and strong hug of his forelegs.

By the heavens, this is what you have been missing. The calm and warm sensation of your husband's fur, the nonstop movement of your daughter as she hugs you… you can practically feel your energy returning, slowly but surely, just by being here.

"Welcome home, sweetheart," he whispers in your ear, the quiet happiness in his voice being the perfect balance for your daughter's own excited squeeing.

And all of that, before you even step a hoof inside your home proper. The three of you staying like that for as long as you need.

This. This moment right now. This is peace. This is the sensation that makes you feel that you don't need anything else, that nothing at all is missing.

This is the one thing what you wouldn't trade for anything in the world. In this world, or any other.





"Sweetheart, are you sure about…" you hear your husband whispering next to you as you walk, subtly waving a wing in the direction of the two ponies he is referring to, "about all of this?"

"Of course I am," you answer matter-of-factly, "and just look at the two of them. They are as happy as can be! I'm sure that nopony would even be able to tell that they aren't actually sisters."

You are referring, of course, to the two fillies prancing in front of you, excitedly chatting and giggling as the four of you make your way to the Sweet Apple Acre.

Well, truth be told only one of them is a filly, and only one of them is prancing excitedly and giggling. The other pony is a grown mare, although she still has quite the young looks about her, but she is…

"Happy as can be? Look at poor Soft Sweeps, her wings look like they are glued to her sides!" your husband whispers back to you.

He has a point.

"Well, it's not my fault she is taking this so seriously."

And you mean it. From what you have heard from Ponpon, a few days after you returned home, you gathered that the mare has been going as far as to train in preparation for this day. You have to admit that it took a few moments for the idea to sink in once you heard it. She has been training. For a social gathering with a contest where ponies are supposed to have fun.

It doesn't help that your husband shoots a dubious glance at you, after your words.

"Well… maybe it is just a little bit my fault…?" you say hesitantly.

After all, you have been hyping your daughter up about this whole "sister" deal with Soft Sweeps. You should have known that, in turn, your daughter would respond to it with ten times the excitement she usually has about everything.

"But at least Soft is dedicating herself to it…? In her own way, that is?" you say with an awkward smile, seeing Stormchaser's unimpressed expression at that.

Well, whatever the result might turn out to be, there is no stopping it anymore. The arched entrance of the Apple Clan property appears at the end of the long dirt road, and you can feel your pace slowly hastening as you work to keep up with the increasingly more excited hoofsteps of your daughter.

By the heavens, you are practically trotting when you finally pass through the arched entrance and into the property itself.

The whole farm appears before you, and you can see that it has been painstakingly prepared for the event. Several stands with all sorts of foodstuffs are distributed along the place, all of them covered in banners and flags, both of Ponyville and of the event. You see several rather impressive obstacle courses further ahead, all of them organized so they are in view of the many wooden bleachers fixed to the ground.

And a whole crowd of ponies is here. Most of them are the expected pairings of mares followed by, or following, the younger versions of themselves. However, you also spy a good amount of parents, you must add, noticing the familiar figures of couples, or sometimes of a single mare or stallion, following their own offsprings from a comfortable distance, wearing satisfied smiles and postures not unlike the ones you and Stormchaser have yourselves right now.

Almost without a conscious prompt, you turn your experienced gaze towards the belongings of the Apples, gazing over the many hills around their property, filled to the brim with apple trees, and analyzing the quality of their produce. Moments later you are calculating the expected yield they might have, mentally scribbling what their estimated income and expenses might b-

You shake your head, forcefully ejecting your train of thought from the direction it was heading. Not today, Velvet Covers, today you are a happy wife and mother.

Today you are taking your daughter, your two daughters, to have some much-needed bonding experiences, while you rest and enjoy the day with your husband.

Speaking of which, where in the heavens are they? You look around, realizing that those few moments of distraction were more than enough for those two to disappear in the crowd. You are not immediately worried, of course, but still…

"There, by the participant's booth," your husband points with a hoof, and you are soon treated to the sight of your daughter dragging poor Soft Sweeps by the throat.

It is at the same time worrying and endearing to see how one of them is clearly hesitating, while the other is utterly oblivious to that fact.

"And by the looks of it," Stormchaser continues, with a short laugh, "I don't think there is anything else for us to do about them."

"Don't say something like that, there's still plenty for us to do about Silky," you chide him, which just makes him laugh a little more at your usual daughter-related antics.

"Well, I mean that there is nothing else for us to do right now, dear," he corrects himself, although the two of you know this is just idle banter, "now give me a few seconds, I'll go check for available spots on the bleachers."

He jumps skyward with a short flap of his wings, and you see him give the entire place a once-over before he lands by your side again.

And soon after, the two of you are heading towards one of the stands, having a pleasant conversation while idly keeping an eye out for your young ones.





[Sisterhooves Social!]

[Rolls]

[Team Apple: 97 + 20 (Familiarity) = 117]

[Team Dash: 89 + 20 (Competitive) = 109]

[Team Diamond: 58 + 0 (Having fun) = 58]

[Your team!: 65 - 10 (Half of the team is nervous to death) = 55]

[Several others: 38 -5 (This is the average performance of the others) = 33]



This is certainly being an interesting affair. Truth be told, you thought you would be excited just because this is something related to your daughter, but you have to admit you are getting invested into the event as a whole.

The preparations continued for the better part of half an hour, until a few calls for the start of the race were made and everypony headed either to the starting line or for the stands and bleachers, some pegasi even bringing a few clouds over to make more space on the ground for the earth ponies and unicorns present.

Then the aging matriarch of the Apple Clan said some words about what sisterhood means, her voice surprisingly strong and clear despite her age. In fact, she didn't just speak about sisterhood, she talked about the love between siblings, and of family, as a whole.

But nothing too deep, at least nothing that the younger competitors might notice to be deep. She soon led her words to the more competitive part of things, and in no time the dozens of pairs in the race were riled up and ready to begin.

And then a large red stallion kicked an even larger bell, and the race was on.



"Go Silky! Pump those legs! Squash those grapes!"

"Jump! Its easier if you jump!"

"Don't listen to your father!"

You and your husband aren't just shouting.

The two of you are clamoring.

And you know that neither of them can hear you, because you are sitting on a place that is a bit far from them of course, but mostly because the entire farm is a cacophony of shouting parents and cheering ponies.

This is not what you were expecting. You thought you would just spectate a game of sorts, from what you had read on the brochure of the event. Maybe cheering whenever a particularly difficult trial or obstacle was finished, at most.

But instead, you and your husband are being a literal part of the vibrant crown around the event, the extremely social nature of ponies all but infecting the two of you, heightened by the already friendly nature that the citizens of Ponyville possess.

"No! Don't drop the egg, don-!" your husband practically skips, his wings involuntarily flapping as the distant Soft Sweeps once again loses her balance, the egg falling from the spoon she is holding with her mouth.

You, for your part, can't stop laughing. And neither can your daughter, apparently, as she watches the older mare hurry back towards the box on the other side of the obstacle course, spoon on her mouth as she goes for her third attempt at it. This is one of the few obstacles that don't involve teamwork, so there is nothing the filly, or any of you, can do but cheer her on.

And you aren't cheering just for your girls, of course. The whole crowd is watching the event as a whole.

A veritable wave of encouragement sweeps through the crowd, you and Stormchaser included, as the leading pair finishes climbing an extremely complicated tangle of ropes, kicking the two bells at the top of the wooden edifice in tandem to mark their passing, and quickly make their way towards the next course. The second pair, a blue pegasus followed by her orange coated sister, is hot on their heels, and less than a minute later they do the same thing.

Another half hour passes before the first two pairs cross the finishing line, the pair of earth ponies winning first place by a mere full minute, and it takes another while for your own team to cross the finish line as well.

Losing to Rarity and her own sister by just a few hoofsteps, you must add.



You follow Stormchaser to the finishing line, where the four ponies are dutifully cleaning themselves from all the accumulated mud of the race, fillies giggling and talking between smiles as their older counterparts dutifully make sure they are getting cleaned.

By the heavens, you already feel a bit tired just from all the cheering, how can your daughter be prancing after all the exercise she has just been through?

"Really darling, you shouldn't push yourself too hard over it," and you arrive in time to hear what must be the ending of a conversation the older mares are having, "it is supposed to be a fun event after all. And it's just a game!"

"But still… we didn't win," you hear Soft Sweeps replying to Rarity, while the two of them practically hose down the younger fillies with a pair of water pumps provided by the farm, "we have been waiting for this day for so long, and…"

You and Stormchaser look at each other, and you see that he has a raised eyebrow himself. Well, that explains the mare's nervousness, although the two of you were already almost sure that this had been the cause of her plight during the day.

That said, she still has a lot to learn about loosening up and-

"I don't care if we didn't win, I loved it!" but your daughter is three steps ahead of you as she, either by innocence or design, interrupts the two older mares, "you're the best older sister I could have ever asked for!"

And before Soft Sweeps can react, the filly is already tackling her into a hug. A wet and mud-filled hug, but an honest one regardless. You smile at that, seeing the mare melt a little bit as well as she hugs your daughter back.

"Me and Rarity still beat the two of you though!" Sweetie Belle chimes in, jumping at her own sister and causing the four of them to start laughing.

You see Stormchaser stopping, and you stop right after, the two of you looking at the scene from the small distance you are at.

You face him with a curious expression, and you immediately recognize the look he has on his face.

And you don't even need to ask to know what is going on in his mind right now.

"Mhmm," you say, nodding to his unspoken suggestion, turning your back to the group and walking away, "let's give them this moment."

"Yeah," he agrees, following behind you, "this one will be a particularly precious memory."

You don't doubt him, not even for a moment.



You see, Stormchaser has always had a knack for noticing things. Not for noticing everything, of course, most of the times he is as dense as any other stallion can be. But he has confided in you that, sometimes, he can simply tell when something is important.

It was how he got his cutie mark, that image of a tornado seen from the top, that "eye" of the storm. It wasn't because he had been able to discern and predict changes in the weather from a young age, as most ponies thought had happened. No, it was because one day he looked up to the sky and noticed a single, particularly important cloud, that would start a hurricane if left unchecked.

He kicked it away, and never spoke of it to anypony, ever... except for you, years later.

And you believe him.

You believed him then, and you have already been reminded about this gift of him several times. Every now and then he simply stops, looks at something, and knows that the thing he is looking at is something of the utmost relevance. A doll lost on the streets, which was the heirloom of an aged mare who lived nearby, that had fallen from her window and been swept by a passing crowd. A key forgotten in a flowerbed, accidentally dropped by a travelling stallion who had not been home for so long.

And not just physical objects, but also moments. He once looked at a couple, two ponies sitting under the shade of a tree, and simply sighed with a smile on his face. Moments later, the stallion took out a ring from his saddle bag and proposed to the mare.

Why, he has already told you countless times that he had that same feeling, that particular knowing, the first time you met. You know that he says that more often than not just to be charming, but you still know he is being honest.

So when your husband says that something is important, you believe him.

And if he is saying that you should give your daughter some space, that you should allow her and Soft Sweeps that moment, that is exactly what you are going to do.

They will find you once they are done. And, in a good way, they will be a little different than they were before.





"I hate it here! I wish we could just go home."



You stop on your heels, having heard something quite out of place in an event like this.

"Something the matter sweetheart?" you husband asks at your sudden abruptness.

You look around, trying to find the answer yourself.

"I'm not sure dear, I think I just heard..."



"Why are we even here? We aren't even sisters to begin with and…"



Your eyes center on the source of the unusual conversation, and you see two foals, covered from snout to tail in mud, miserably walking towards nowhere in particular.

Wait, don't you recognize those voices…?

"Aren't those Silky's little friends?" you ask, feeling Stormchaser look in their direction more attentively.

"I think they are?" he asks as dubiously as you did.

By the heavens, the pair looks distraught. You quickly wonder where their parents might be, since two foals being sad in an event like this is the very opposite of what should be happening.

"Why don't you go ahead, Storm?" you wave him towards the food stands that you were previously heading to, "meet me after you get a few things for the girls? I'll go check out… whatever that is."

He eyes the two fillies for a few more seconds, still trying to piece together exactly who they might be, before he gives you a short nod and trots away.

And you head towards the two little muddied ponies, paying a little more attention to their conversation this time.

"For the same reason she has been going on and on about how we should do anything for a while now," you finally recognize Diamond Tiara's voice, as you slowly trot towards them from behind the two fillies, "and the same reason she also flipped when we told her about this even just yesterday. Well, when we told her who was coming, that is."

"What? So she's here because she's looking for her?"

"Yeah," the two fillies stop for a few moments, trying to shake away the caked dirt from their bodies with little success, Diamond Tiara's voice reaching a peak of annoyance "I bet right now she is all up and about fawning over and kissing the flank of-"

"Are you two girls alright?" you ask, interrupting Diamond Tiara.

"-Silky Stream's mom?!" she practically yelps as soon as she hears you.

The two girls turn to face you with a jump, the white of their wide eyes a stark contrast to the color covering their bodies.

Although you only find their behavior more confusing, and you are honestly worried about Diamond's tone of voice from just now.

"Yes, it's me. I'm surprised Silky didn't tell me that the two of you were coming," you think back to the past few days, trying to remember if your daughter mentioned anything of the like, "and where are your parents?"

You are also unsure if you have seen Filthy Rich today.

"Oh, she, they…" Diamond seems, for some reason, extremely uncomfortable. It is probably all the mud, you think, considering the upbringing she had, "mom is… she's around!"

"Yeah, Diamond's mom is uh… looking for a friend?" the other filly offers as well, also looking suddenly nervous, "and we didn't tell Silky because coming here was also a… last minute decision?"

You tilt your head at that. If you didn't know any better you would have thought that somepony had just up and decided that they would attend this event, by force, somewhere around yesterday in the afternoon, upon hearing a detail of particular importance that had previously gone unmentioned.

But of course, you know Filthy Rich, a little bit, and he doesn't strike you as that particular sort of unreasonable stallion. He surely doesn't look like the sort of father that would allow his daughter to be forced into any such situation, at least.

But more importantly, you think, waving that idea away, these two fillies are… well, this just won't do!

"Be that as it may, girls, I'll be taking the two of you for a while," you say, floating the two fillies with a flick of magic, "I'm sure Rich won't mind."

The two girls yelp at the sudden movement, but there is little they can do as you escort them towards the water pumps near the finishing line.

Only to find a familiar face when you arrive there.

"Oh, I'm surprised you're still here Sweetie. Where is your sister?"

You see Sweetie Belle, together with the yellow filly who was part of the winning team on the race.

"Hi again Mrs. Velvet! This is Silky's mom by the way," she says to the filly by her side after greeting you, "and Rarity went off with Pinkie, one of her other friends. She was on a cotton-candy spree, I think it's called, so Rarity went running after her to get us some."

"Hi there misses, I'm Apple Bloom. And those two… are those Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon?" the yellow filly introduces herself, eyeing your two floating charges right after.

"Lovely to meet you, Apple Bloom, and yes," you put the two fillies on the ground.

And completely ignore their protests as you set two of the water pumps on them, giving them a good magical scrubbing while you are at it. "Yes, those two are your little friends."

The whole process goes about as well as you could expect it to go, and the cold water eventually has the two fillies acceptably cleaned up.

You can't, however, tell if Diamond Tiara's mood got a lot more sour during the whole thing, or if she was like that the whole time and you can just see her better now. Silver Spoon, however, took it in good sport, and you can tell that Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle are doing their very best not to laugh.

Well, nothing you can do about their moods, and her current situation is a lot better than how it was a few minutes ago.

"Well, not something I ever though I'd see," you hear Apple Bloom say to Sweetie, which also causes Silver to giggle a bit, although it makes Diamond Tiara answer the three of them with a glare.

"Excuse me, then, if I don't live in a farm for you to see me covered in mud every day!"

"Hey, there aint nothing wrong with livin' in a farm!" Apple Bloom glares back.

The situation, however, suddenly takes a turn for the worse, as the two fillies start practically shouting at each other in a way that makes it clear that there is some older rivalry taking part in all of this. But before you can think on how to settle the situation down-

"Hey, the two of you, stop acting like that!" Silver Spoon jumps in between the two fillies, the movement almost looking like it had been practiced somehow, or at least repeated several times before.

"Yeah, you two fight like that almost every day, at least quit it during the holidays," Sweetie Belle adds, moving to block Apple Bloom just like Silver Spoon is blocking Diamond Tiara, "why don't we just enjoy the event? Besides, we are bound to meet up with Scoots and Silky if we do," she adds, hoping the two would settle down at that.

You can see the options flashing through the eyes of the pink filly, part of her wanting to groan loudly and simply walk away, while another part… well, another part seems to be thinking more deeply about it. Perhaps even recalling something else while she thinks.

"Yeah… and Silky always goes on and on about how we should all hang out together, when its just the three of us…" Silver Spoon says, adding her voice to Sweetie Belle and clearly trying to prod her friend towards a particular decision.

"Ahh… fine!" she says, still electing to let out a reasonable groan at that, "let's go, at least so this day won't be a total loss in the end."

And with that, you watch the four fillies walk away. There is still an air of tension about two of them, as the yellow and pink fillies make a point of standing at the opposite ends of the quartet. But you sigh in relief when you realize both that this was just foals enmity, as well as the fact that the situation practically took care of itself.

However, you still eye the pink filly curiously. On second thought, didn't she mention something about her mother? Could it be that she has… familial problems, of some sort?

You make a mental note to keep a closer eye on your daughter's friends. But something tells you that this situation right now will have a positive effect, as much as it might not have been by your intentional design.

The four fillies practically forget about you as they walk away, not that you mind, so you simple look around you and start searching for your husband.





You have become an acquaintance with Apple Bloom, the youngest member of the Apple Clan in Ponyville. She is your daughter's friend, and you can tell that there is some sort of rivalry between her and Diamond Tiara.

Although, in all honesty, you think you detect something worrying about the pink filly herself. Perhaps you should keep an eye out for that in the future... heaven knows you understand what sorts of problems being at odds with your mother can bring about...
> As per Request 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You are Stormchaser, and you and your wife are about to go to sleep.

Well, your wife is halfway there, truth be told, the smile she has on her face being the only indicator that she is still somewhat conscious.

But as much as you would love to keep staring at your beautiful wife, you are concentrating on something else right now. Specifically, on her hindleg.

You see, pegasi have very fine motor control on their wings. Some of the bones there can be considered quite delicate, of course, so it's not like wings can be used for all kinds of activities. But, you have learned many years ago, they are exceptionally good for massages. The strong muscles that allow for sustained flight pairing up perfectly with the delicate bones needed to apply the correct amount of pressure at the correct spots.

And Velvet, your dear and sometimes headstrong wife, spent a little too long strolling around today on the Sisterhooves Social. She may put up a front that almost everypony else falls for, but you know better. You can feel it, in fact, judging by the tension that the few muscles that still work on her leg are under.

But you also want her to sleep while you are at it, of course, so there is no need for you to apply too much strength. Just the slow and steady repetition of pressure and release, gently easing her leg into a more comfortable state, working in silence as her breathing grows more and more peaceful.

You have been doing this a lot more frequently, as of late. Not that you mind of course.

"How do you manage it…?" you hear her voice, half a whisper and half a moan, and you look up partly wondering if she is sleep talking.

"What was that sweetheart?" you ask her back, your tone low just to make sure.

"I said, how do you manage it?" she asks, her tone just a little more than a whisper this time, with the telltale signs that she is both nearly asleep and that she is very thankful for your massage.

"How do I manage what, dear?" you gently repeat the question, turning your attention back to her flank with a soft smile on your own face.

"All of it," she continues, "the traveling... the work... me…" you are not sure if she meant to say that last word out loud, but she probably didn't even notice it, "I mean, I was out for two weeks and I felt like I was about to lose it…"

You let out a gentle sigh at that, nothing that she would notice or hear, still with a smile on your face, but you sigh regardless.

You wonder if you should simply allay her wondering, if it would be better for you to simply stop working on her leg for five seconds, and just go towards her and give her a light kiss on her lips, whispering for her to sleep. You know that she will fall asleep right after if you do it, of course, you know her well enough.

But there is no need for you to do that either, and there is no harm in her question.

"Well, it helps knowing that you and Silky are waiting for me here," you answer her.

And you see her give the slightest nod in return, eyes closed and hugging her pillow with one of her hindlegs.

"I can't believe… how lucky I am…" she whispers tenderly, almost as if speaking to herself.

And a part of you melts at that.

You slow down your wings for a moment and take a long look at your nearly sleeping wife.

And you can't help but remember the first time you saw her.

She had always been stunningly beautiful, ever since the first day you met her. At first you couldn't believe that you were going to be forced into an arranged marriage, much less so with a noble family from Canterlot, but any thoughts about going against the idea evaporated from your mind the moment you set your eyes on the beautiful unicorn you were to be engaged with.

But she, for her part, couldn't have cared less about you.

You knew that it wasn't necessary, your parents even told you again and again that neither of you had any choice in the matter, so there wasn't any need for you to put any effort into it, one way or the other. But the moment you saw that mare, something inside of you clicked, as it sometimes does in your life. You knew that you had to, then and there. And because of that you spent every waking moment, every single day of the eight weeks prior to your marriage, since the ceremony's date had already been set for months now, trying to get to know her better.

You tried talking to her, outright courting her, inviting her for a stroll around the city, by carriage or hoof or wings if you had to carry her. You tried giving her gifts, although you didn't know the first thing about what she could possibly like, and despite the fact that buying a gift to a noble mare is exactly as hard as it sounds like.

You tried everything, and you failed, the mare's disinterest in you growing into abject dislike with every attempt. Giving up never crossed your mind, of course, but as the wedding ceremony approached you knew that you were fighting a losing battle.

But still, you didn't know why, but you simply needed her, you needed her to feel about you... the same way you felt about her.

Love works in mysterious ways, you know, and the appearance of a Princess dedicated to that single aspect all but proved to you that love is a force as real as the sun and the moon.

And you are thankful for it.

Your hard work, also, finally paid off. Not in the way you were hoping, or even expecting, but it paid off regardless.

It was three days before the wedding ceremony. You were resolute, and perhaps even a bit grim, as you walked towards your fiancée's room. You had a bouquet of flowers with you, several of them in fact, and you hoped that one of them was of the flowers that she liked.

You didn't even knock on her door, however, before you heard the muffled sound of her crying, coming from within.

The door was locked, of course, but you didn't care. The nearest window wasn't locked, and neither was the window to her own room.

And the mare, the beautiful and cold and elusive mare that you were to marry in three short days, was crying too much to care for your sudden entrance. In fact, she was crying so much that she went towards you and hugged you before you even had the chance to say anything.

She started talking, before you even had the chance to ask a single question.

You remember how she said, crying in your embrace, that she felt like she wasn't even a living being anymore. How her life up to that moment had been nothing but failure and criticism, up to the point where she was finally deemed no better than just an item to be trade off in exchange for something else. About how she said that she felt like she had no one, that she had felt like that for as long as she could recall.

And you remember how you answered her. You gently raised her chin with your hoof, and you said that she had you.

You will never forget the way she hugged you, after that. You immediately knew how scared she was, how alone she was, how lost she felt about all of that. But at least, from that moment onwards, she knew that she could count on you, as a friend if nothing else.

You married her three days later, of course, but you took things as slowly as she needed them to go. You already had your hoofs on the one thing you had wanted your entire life, the thing that you didn't even knew you wanted until you met her, that is. So there was no need to be in a rush about anything else.

You slowly learned about her love for books, and her need to have things in the chaotic mess that she claims to be organized.

You slowly learned about her familial… situation, hearing more and more details as the months went by, piecing together the puzzle of what led her to be eventually married off to you.



And once, only once in a snowy night, she told you about what exactly happened to her leg, and why she spent the following years bound to a bed, with nothing but books for company.



You knew that she was not happy most of the times. You knew that she had a lot of reasons not to be happy.

But still, to this day you are boundlessly thankful for the fact that you are one of the reasons that make her smile. It is your honest belief that, as much as she might think otherwise, you are the one who got impossibly lucky in all of this. You are lucky for the fact that this whole thing worked out, for the fact that she was able to bear your daughter, as much as the loose nerves inside her leg made part of the process excruciatingly painful.

And because of all of that, you really don't mind any of this at all. Not the travels, not the work, not staying up late massaging the unreasonably stiff hindleg of a sleeping mare. In fact, looking at the piece of fine work that she is, you even enjoy that last part. Perhaps a little more than you should, that is.

She always says that she is happy that Silky Stream has your eyes, but every time you look at your daughter all you can see is your wife's smile on her face. And thinking that, through her, she might be having a second chance at being a happy filly herself…  well that is all that you really need.

"You know that you are my favorite horseshoe, right?", she asks, suddenly, her voice already droning off into unconsciousness.

You doubt that she even meant to say that consciously, but you don't care.

That is one of the many quotes she uses, from one of the many books she has read. A particular tale about a farmer who was stuck on her mundane life, until it was suddenly turned upside-down when she met a traveling merchant.

But regardless, that is the secret way that she uses, the secret phrase that the two of you share, for her to say that she loves you.

You don't even need to answer her, you don't even need to whisper back your part of the quote, like they did in the book. You don't even need to let her know that you feel the same, because she is already fast asleep and you know that your words won't reach her.

"And you are my favorite horseshoe nail, sweetheart."

But you do it anyways.
> The Diamond's Inspiration
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You are Rarity, and you are currently lying on your bed, looking at the ceiling of your room.

And there is a lot going on in your mind, right now.

The last few hours, the last few days, the last few weeks are still repeating themselves in your head, flashing in your memory as if on a loop, to the point where you feel dizzy whenever you try to focus on a single part of it.

And you can't help but recall that it all began because you simply bumped into her, months ago, without having any idea of who she was, and decided to compliment her dress.

Of course, you didn't do any of it out of interest. You wouldn't have, even if you knew who she was before you met her. But still, not even in your wildest dream you would have thought that…



"Uhm… I don't think I quite follow, darling. What is this all about?"

"Oh, that's just a short contract… a tab, of sorts? A letter of credit...? I forget the term."

She had simply asked if you knew who the Needle family were. Of course you knew, seeing that their work was displayed in almost every magazine that you subscribe to.

And she was simply saying nonchalantly about how…

"Well, call it whatever you want, but simply send a letter to that address with whatever materials you need, and they will be forwarded to you in a week. The middlepony is an employee of mine, so as to preserve your identity, but I hope you won't mind that little detail."

She handed you a contact list, a contact list that led to the Needle family, and a form detailing that you were holding the rights to more bits than you would be able to accumulate in several months of work. She did all of that almost as an afterthought.

And then she gave you the second, longer contract.

"Read it," she said, her tone serious, "thoroughly. Ask me if you have questions about anything. I can guarantee we can make a few changes, although it might take some days to do so by mail. But only sign it if you are absolutely sure about it."

You had never read a contract as complex as that, before. There were several clauses that you needed her to explain to you, some of them that she brushed off as "the usual legal talk", and others that were actually important.

But by the end of it, you understood what that was all about.

By the end, you were dumbfounded.



You look towards the ceiling, idly raising a hoof, your mind still slightly stunned by all of that.

Because you remember what you had asked her after you finished reading the contract.

Why?

And you remember her straightforward answer, the way she responded almost immediately.



"Because I believe in you," she said, as if that was utterly obvious.



Then she went on to complete that answer, of course. Saying that she believed you have talent, saying that you are her friend and that she felt honored in helping you pursue your dreams, and saying a lot of other things.

But that first, simple answer stuck to you. It struck deep into your core because the way she said it made it clear that it was the deepest, most honest thing she had in her mind.

You didn't know how to thank her then. Prancing like a filly wouldn't have done it, shouting in glee wouldn't have done it, hugging her, crying in emotion, none of that felt like it would have been enough, although you wanted to do all of those at the same time. You still do, whenever you remember that moment.

But you simply nodded, shell-shocked, as you signed your name in a contract to something that you never thought would be more than a wild dream of a small city mare.

However, when you finished signing it, something occurred to you. You said something that, you hoped, would help transmit at least part of how utterly serious, honored, dedicated and most importantly thankful you were feeling about that. Something that, at least in your mind, you hoped would pass on the message to Velvet that you… that you would make her proud.

Little did you know how stupid saying that would make you look.



"Velvet I… I will give this my all. I promise! As soon as I get back to Ponyville I will lock myself in my boutique, and I won't leave until I have done a whole year's worth of work!" yes, that was the very least you could do. The very least you had to do.

She had just given you the means and the contacts, after all, everything a pony in your line of work would ever need, and more. The full scope of the situation had not yet dawned on you, but she had just given you everything you would need from the outside world, so by Celestia you would pour your blood, sweat and tears into this. You would work yourself to the bone at the expense of all else!

It was the only way you could ever repay you, of course. The only way you could ever start repaying her for all of this.

And she simply answered you with a short laugh.

That is, until she looked into your eyes a little more carefully, and saw how serious you were.

"I… admire your dedication?" she said, somewhat awkwardly, "but really Rarity, what about everything else? You still have a life, after all. Sisterhooves Social is coming up, among several other things."

And you honestly didn't understand what she meant by that.

"Sisterhooves… what, that event for little fillies? Covers, darling, after all this I… I won't have the time for anything else! I simply can't allow myself to…!"

You tried to explain her the obvious, you tried to tell her that you didn't have the right not to give it your all, not after what she had just done for you.

But the more you talked, the more her expression grew more and more worried.

Until she got up from her seat, took your hoofs on her own, and looked deep into your eyes.



You remember what she said, almost word for word.

She told you, very calmly and very simply, that you had to calm down and take a few deep breaths, which you did.

And then she told you to forget about everything that just happened, even if for just a moment. About Canterlot, about the parties, about the work, about the Princesses, and about the contract most of all.

That took you a little longer to do, but she patiently waited until you, with your eyes closed, told her that you honestly did so. Or at least to the greatest extent that you were capable of.

And then, she told you to remember why you are doing all of this.

You have a dream, ever since you were young, of having your craft known. You do not dream about simple fame, or about acknowledgement. Those two things are inevitable to successful ponies, of course, but the thing you wish for is something far deeper and more complex than that.

You wish to be admired. But not in the base and vain way that might sprout jealousness, not in the ugly way that involves doing wrong things or tarnishing yourself. No, you wish to be admired because you know you can create things worthy of admiration. You wish to create dresses, you wish to create works of art, that ponies can look upon and immediately know that are good, that are inspiring and uplifting and so much more.

Not because you think yourself better than other ponies, but because deep down you know that you can create such things. You have that ability to turn cloth and gems and threads into something that is almost alive. And having that ability, without allowing it to sing and create, is something that you know to be at the same time tragic and maddening.

You know that you can create diamonds, you know that you have it in you to produce things that are sublime by their very nature.

You have those very same diamonds on your flank, after all.

But then, Velvet told you to remember about everything else you have already achieved.

At first, your mind drew up an enormous blank. You have your shop, of course, and quite a few pieces that you are proud of. But try as you might, none of the achievements you ever accumulated throughout your life really had the level you aimed for.

You kept trying to think about what she meant, until the ideas slowly eased themselves into your mind.

And you understood what she was saying.

You had not immediately thought about those things because they were on the background of your mind, because they form the background of your very life. Your friends, your hobbies, your own sister. The hundreds of little things that make you who you are.



"Rarity," you remember her saying, while you still had your eyes closed, "losing those things is far too easy. I know that you are not the kind of mare that, in the end, would make that sort of mistake. But I need you to know from the beginning that said mistake exists, and that it is a long path that you can step into without even realizing."



And you could see it happening. You also think, or at least you hope, that you wouldn't have actually lost anything or anypony dear to you along the way. But you could see how rocky that path might have been, how rocky it might still be, if you are not careful.

You can picture yourself fighting with your sister, because you put your work over her.

You can picture yourself losing some crucial moment or memory with your friends, because you were too engrossed chasing your dreams.

You can picture yourself, as much as it hurts, finally "making it" as you always dreamed you would, but looking around you and realizing you are alone.

You remember opening your eyes inside of that train cabin, and seeing Velvet Covers smiling at you, a slow and satisfied nod from her telling you that she was glad you understood the meaning behind her words.

And as much as you wanted to get to work immediately, the first thing you did when you returned to Ponyville was visit your friends, see your parents, and sign you and Sweetie Belle into the Sisterhooves Social.

And really, seeing your little sister beaming with joy, when you told her that, was something… that you will take care to remember as being priceless.



But despite all of that, here you are, on your bed. Still looking at the ceiling, still trying to put your thoughts in order. However... you think that you finally understand the crux, the very core, of your confusion.

Velvet Covers herself.

Your friend, more than that if you think about it, that you have met by chance in Ponyville.

You can't really understand her… well, you can understand her, but a part of you still feels some sort of conflict whenever you try to put a hoof on why you are feeling so conflicted about her.

That is, until you remember Sweetie Belle's own smile, after the end of that obstacle race. You remember the way your sister looked at you, and you remembered what your own dream is all about, and everything suddenly clicked.

You finally get it.

You admire her.



You admire her.



The way she always seems to be in control of a situation, only to whisper to you that she had no idea what something was all about right after. The way that she can be in charge of an operation that spans the entirety of Equestria, and keep her cool about it, until she collapses on her bed the moment she reaches her room. The way she can dedicate herself to her work, but somehow not lose sight even for a moment of how madly in love she is with her family.

The way she seems to have it all figured out. The way she took the time to look at you, a pony who she has not known for more than six months, and... simply did everything she just did.

You want to be like her. As much as she might be a grown mare like you… actually, she is a bit older than you, so the thought makes sense…

"I want to be like her when I grow up", you think, emulating the phrase that is usually used by foals. The thought makes you blush slightly, thinking that it is just a little bit immature of you, especially when you know how much of a very normal mare Velvet Covers is. Putting her on a podium won't do, you know, and she certainly wouldn't want you to do that. But still...

You want to make her proud.

"And by Equestria, that is exactly what I am going to do!", you say to yourself with a nod, some newfound determination coming to you as you jump out of bed and head to your workshop downstairs.

You have work to do, and all the tools and materials that you could dream of thanks to your… your idol? Icon? Inspiration?

Let's go with friend, you think, knowing that she would prefer to keep things simple.





Rarity has reached Confidant level, she is now personally loyal to you, and will follow you. You can trust her with almost anything now.

Come next turn, you will be able to guide Rarity's efforts or direct her to certain actions, as you would do with a Summoned Creature. This will remain so until she is no longer your Confidant, or personally loyal to you.
> Turn 6 - Closing
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You are sitting in your office, a concentrated expression on your face and your brow furrowed, as you finish checking the final lines of your monthly report. Needless to say that you are paying special attention to the numbers, which are in all honesty the most important part of the whole thing.

Normally you would have read through the whole thing, twice, and made sure that everything added up along the way, causing the end of the report to be an expected result rather than a point of tension. But this month you simply did not have the time to do such a thing, so, sloppy as it might feel from your habits and perspective, you have to employ this direct and much less secure method.

A long sigh of relief escapes your lips as you confirm that everything has added up properly. You have kept a tight hoof around your farmlands for years now, so you know (or at least hope) nopony will start stealing things or embezzling bits on the first sign that you have been a little more absent than usual.

But still, it's your job to make sure.

You start binding and sealing the reports, to be mailed to your family, already knowing that your father's accountants will find all sorts of little details to fuss over and report back to him. You are certain that you will receive a strongly worded letter telling you not to neglect your job, but considering how you spent the first half of the month on Canterlot said letter just might be the usual Velvet Hill formality of reprimand.

Something you can safely ignore, you hope. You will have to read it to be sure, of course, since by now you are already used to the tone and wording your father uses when writing you.

Specifically, you know that if he openly criticizes your work and actions, you are good. However, if he is circuitous about a certain subject, or fails to mention it in anything more than passing, that's when you know you ought to be extremely careful.

Point in case, so far all of his letters regarding Silky Stream have all but openly threatened to disown you if you don't have her moved to Canterlot for "better education", his disapproval and disappointment made clear through ink. That means he couldn't care less about her, and you usually rip those letters before you are even done reading them.

Bless your daughter and her wings, you suppose. Your life would be a lot different if your father had any actual interest in her.

A knock comes to your door, causing you to look up and momentarily pause the mechanical movements of levitating and wax-sealing the report scrolls.

"Excuse me ma'am," Ponpon enters a few moments later, "mail just arrived, and…"

She seems a little… puzzled? Disturbed might be a better way to put it. You can tell that there is some sort of conflict in her eyes, and this causes you to float the scrolls down.

"And what?" you ask, your voice becoming slightly curious at that, "did we receive some strange package or the likes?"

You are fairly sure you didn't order any… curious artifacts, so this isn't the case of a mummified claw of some large insect having arrived by pegasus-courier or anything.

Not that something like that has ever happened before, but you are mindful about not setting precedents to begin with.

"Not exactly a package, ma'am, and admittedly it isn't something… extremely strange but…"

You can sense that she is being as indirect and careful as possible with her words. And considering how you have known her for many years now, most of which she has been your personal maid no less, this sets off all sorts of flags inside your head.

"But it is rather… unusual?" she finishes, clearly conflicted, taking out a few envelopes from one of the pockets of her uniform, and placing them on your desk.

You eye the envelopes, four of them are regular letters which you immediately dismiss, but your eyes soon focus on the fifth thing jutting out from between them like a sore hoof. You can't help but feel like Ponpon even made sure to somewhat "hide" that thing among the envelopes, as she brought them here, as if she had been uncomfortable about even carrying the thing to begin with.

You quickly float it, whatever it is, towards you with your horn.

"I just find it weird, ma'am, because it specifically has your name written on it and..."

You eye it carefully.

It's a card, of sorts. An invitation, perhaps?

It's about half the size of a normal mail envelope, printed in a glossy black type of hard-paper, sufficiently thick for you to think the thing might actually be… plasticized? You're more used to using scrolls and ink-written paper, so you're not familiarized with the intricacies of that particular form of printed press.

The card looks like it is the expensive sort of thing to get done, for sure, and you think it even has a tinge of perfume to it. You are a reputable mare, of course, but you can't help but think that this looks like the sort of… invitation that nobles send to each other, when summoning their peers for events in which they might partake in less than reputable activities. Down to the last detail, the slight watermark that resembles a pair of glasses being clinked, and the way the borders have a pleasant imagery of vines and leaves printed on them... in red ink, contrasting against the black color of the card as a whole.

And because of that thought, and all those tiny details, the fur on your coat practically stands on its end when you read exactly what is written on the luxuriously made card.


...

"Esteemed Lady Velvet Covers






We of the Wildhoof Club would like to thank you for your extended patronage and membership in our book club, and cordially invite you to a final perusal of our new establishment before the grand opening takes place.






Upon your arrival you will receive your membership card, and complimentary drinks.






Kindly join us on the following date and address to…"

...


You close your eyes, floating the card back down to the table once you realize you can still read the thing just fine, and you focus your willpower on your forelegs, keeping them locked in place and stopping them from flying towards your face to perform a much needed facehoof.

You also do your best to keep the… groan that is welling up inside your throat from escaping your lips.

Membership in our book club? Complimentary drinks? How in the heavens are you even supposed to start the damage control on the sorts of rumors that will arise, after you received an invitation to the "new space for your book club" that looks like the damn flier to something that sounds like a…

A blasted cabaret?

And worse, when the cursed thing says you have been giving it "extended patronage"?!

You think you can hear Windy Flakes in the distance, cackling, as you picture the damned card being passed from hoof to hoof through every last servant in your Estate until it reaches Ponpon, and much later your desk.

Doesn't that blasted unicorn know the first thing about subtlety?

Of course he does… you think. The question is, does he even damn cares about it?!

"Ma'am…?" Ponpon starts hesitantly, but a part of you already knows what she is going to say, "the servant who passed me the mail couldn't help but notice that the letter mentions it's from your… book club?"

You can see in the mare's expression that it is exactly as bad as you think it is, that even as you speak the gossiping must be spreading like wildfire, as the servants recall every time you left to go to your "book club". They are probably, also, starting to piece together the scant times they must have noticed when you were absent during the rather more suspicious times of the day.

You also recall that Ponpon meekly mentioned that the thing has been especially printed with your name on it. No chance for it to be a random sort of mass-printed pamphlet, then.

And you can see, from her expression, that even she has the slight glint of doubt in her eyes.

You take a deep breath, and picture yourself introducing Windy Flakes to a particularly beautiful ending, through strangulation of course.

"Thank you Ponpon, that will be all," you say, your expression still calm and neutral, but your tone sufficiently sharp for the maid to know she should leave.

And you quickly run a mental check list. You live in Ponyville, so there really aren't many ponies whose opinions actually matters, and the capital is too far for this sort of gossip to reach in any relevant way. The only ponies who matter are those whose opinions you personally value, so basically only your husband in your household. Ponpon as well, of course, but the damage seems to have already been done on her, so you will have to take the longer road to explain her what this is all about.

Your daughter is too young to understand whatever this might mean or imply, and the only maid who really has any contact with her is Soft Sweeps, who you trust, so there isn't much danger on that front either. Or at least at first…

And there is also…

"Great… so I only have to make sure that my version of this whole thing reaches Stormchaser first, and there is Rarity and possibly…" you start talking to yourself, your face on your hoofs and the half-bound reports forgotten on your desk.

As much as you love your husband, sometimes you are thankful for the fact that he travels around so much.

And by the heavens, you will have Windy Flake's coat for this.





You know the address by heart, the distasteful situation in which you read it on the first time having all but burned it into your memory, but you still bring out the invitation from your saddle purse to double check. You are somewhat close to the center of Ponyville, now, sufficiently close to the urban and commercial parts of it for there to be a reasonable number of ponies on the streets, that is.

It also helps that the sun is high up in the sky. It feels strange, to be heading for a cult meeting during the day, but the excuse you have for it seems somewhat reliable.

If not for the ridiculous way it was presented, of course, added to the kick that it gave to your personal standing.

You turn around the last corner, and… you are not quite sure how to feel about it.

You see it. It is a rather large building, something that would have taken most of an entire block if the buildings and roads in Ponyville didn't follow the characteristic habit of being spaced out in a comfortable manner. The thing is two-storied and has clearly been through large renovations, its painting fresh and gleaming, and the large signboard on its front having clearly been installed recently.

"THE WILDHOOF CLUB" is written on the signboard, in large grey letters, with the "W" being two large, interlocked metal horseshoes. A smaller, temporary, signboard is also visible next to it, the words "Grand Opening" written in bright red and flowy letters, next to tomorrow's date.

A part of you thinks it is somewhat impressive. This looks like a lot more than you thought anypony would have been able to do in such a small period of time, after all the building is quite large and has the looks of an impressive establishment.

But another part of you can't help but wonder about…

How is this even remotely close to subtle? How can this be a good idea, when you are part of a cult centered around the idea of subtlety? How could Windy Flakes even fathom that, when your master mentioned he was supposed to ensure the cult would have funds, that he was supposed to open a Clubhouse?



And most importantly, how are you supposed to keep the image of a respectable married mare if you are seen walking into that sort of establishment?!



You have seen places like this, but only in large cities like Manehattan and Canterlot. A bar slash restaurant by day, and a nightclub after dark. The sort of place, sometimes membership-exclusive, in which ponies can spend their time and maybe take their families.

Not that you trust the unicorn to make a place that is anything close to family-friendly, of course.

Granted, you have never actually been inside any of those, but you have heard from enterprising nobles about it, and your experiences with the things nobles come up to pass the time, be it parties or otherwise, more than makes up for anything you might see inside those sorts of places. Those sorts of places, from what you hard in Canterlot at least, can house anything from a theater to a gold course.

You let out a low groan as you remember that this place is now tied to the idea of your "book club"… you wonder if it will be better to come up with another cover story, or if simply insisting on it will suffice.

And also, you are somewhat worried that you didn't hear about this being built at all. As much as you have been a little more active in Ponyville, it seems that your own Estate and lifestyle are still sufficiently cut off from Ponyville as a whole for these kind of news not to reach you.

The double-edged blade of anonymity, perhaps…?

But that is beside the point. As you approach the building, you notice a familiar fiery-red coated unicorn stallion exiting through the front doors. He must have seen you from a window as you approached, because he immediately waves towards you, wearing a smile as if everything is right with the world.

A particularly insufferable smile, you must add.

"Velvet Covers, so glad you could come!" he says as soon as you are within earshot, "thank you once again for your extended patronage, come on in!"

You look around, checking to see if there are any ponies that could hear his incessant yammering, and you resist a small urge to zap him with a bolt from your horn.

Instead, you just glare daggers in his direction, walking through the double doors as soon as possible so as to get out of the streets.

"Eager for a tour, are we?" he follows right behind you, closing the doors with a flick of magic, "I will be happy to comply!"

By the heavens… this damned unicorn.





Extremely annoying club host aside, you must admit that…

You are somewhat impressed.

The place is deceptively large, enough for it to perhaps be considered a townhouse or a particularly small mansion. There are several large halls, especially on the second floor, which are completely empty, but Windy Flakes seems to have plans for almost all of them.

"This was an abandoned museum of sorts, owned by an old antiquarian. Not nearly as impressive as it is right now, of course. It looked like a haunted house, mind you, but earth pony industry sure is impressive."

The very first hall, right after you entered, is a large bar-like place, several tables strewn around to accommodate a small crowd of ponies. The place is brightly illuminated, even though there are no windows, but you also spy several red lamps on the walls and ceiling, and you can guess that the whole place will have a dimly lit red color once it switches to its night public.

"The Red Bar," he says, helpfully, "the names are a work in progress, of course. That door right there leads to the Rhythm Room. Dance floor and all other things for the younger ones, and I found this white coated unicorn that seems to be interested in working here on the musical front," he finishes, once again mumbling for you to let him know if you have any better suggestions for the ambient names.

"How in the heavens did you get the bits to do all of this?" you ask, turning your appraising eyes in every direction as you go, "I can tell this whole place has practically been renovated from scratch…"

"Oh, it was thanks to that wonderful Starry mare. No idea what she did, but the Rich and the Gleam families came here a few weeks ago and practically fought each other to get a partnership on this!"

He takes you over the other, empty halls, saying how he plans to turn everything into thematically fitting ambience.

His inspiration for said theme, of course, is obvious.

"But this really is supposed to be a club. Sure, regular clientele can come and go as they please, but I'll have other places set up to be exclusive for actual paying members. Great way to have our members meet up in an unsuspicious way, out in the open. Great way to launder money as well," he says nonchalantly.

To which your ears perk up almost as if you had received a shock, and you look around worriedly, dreading somepony else might be listening to your conversation.

"Oh, and if you're wondering about Edge, I had this wonderful idea of keeping an illegal fighting ring on the underground level," he says with a bright smile, "a shame that Comet said almost nopony in town is worth their salt for that, but I'm not giving up on it!"

How in the heavens can he say those sorts of things so calmly?

And your hoofsteps finally take you to the staircases that lead, as you expected, to the underground. A proper staircase, that takes you to a proper corridor and rooms, not an underground-dug cavern of sorts.

You do notice, however, that you had to get through a couple of locked doors to get here. This must be what he meant by the "membership only" part of the club. But he also mentioned most of the staff will be cult members proper, so at least this much shouldn't arouse suspicion.

You hope…

"Anyways, last door to the right. The others are all empty, mind you, so you won't find anything if you peek into them. White Room surely isn't ready yet as well. Off you go then, I'll go wait for the others to arrive!"

And with that the unicorn goes back towards the entrance, leaving you on the underground corridor, flanked by four doors.

You make your way to the last one on the right, as he instructed, and open it.

A curtain meets you, a long and grey curtain that goes all the way down to the floor. You part it, only to see that there is another one immediately after that one.

You think you know what this is about, so you lower your head slightly and start walking through the sequence of curtains horn-first.

As you expected, the amount of curtains seems to be almost endless, as you keep walking onwards and onwards. Either that, or this room is particularly large, but you just close your eyes and keep walking.

You focus your mind on nothing at all, taking special care not to focus on the curtains as they caress your sides each time you pass through another set.

And slowly, almost imperceptibly, the curtains stop feeling like cloth and start feeling like leaves. You dismiss the curious feeling, even as the branches of said leaves start to scratch you from unseen directions, even as you start hearing hints that the room will be much larger if you stop walking forwards and turn towards any other direction.

You keep walking, until at last you pass through the final curtain, and a dark forest appears before you, visible through your closed eyes. You cannot see the sky, as the dark leaves of the tall trees completely cover it, but you can feel that the moonlight would be shining down upon you if it could.

You have arrived in a clearing of sorts, and you see Jade Whistle sitting there, alone. You open your eyes for a few moments, being greeted by total darkness, and a part of you understands that this is what it looked like on the underground of your cult's previous gathering place.

With your eyes closed once again, you head towards Jade Whistle, her ears perking up as your hoofs disturb the leaf-like wings left behind by the countless that are flying just out of your sight, the noises they make curiously silent and buzzing at the same time.

"Velvet Covers," she says, with her usual apparently bored voice, as she turns to face you.

Her eyes, you see, have a small glint to them. Nothing visible if you open your eyes, but still you can see sparks that might one day become spotlights.

You shake your head, blinking as you wonder exactly why those thoughts are occurring to you, but the buzzing you hear around you soon makes you forget that such a thing should be odd to begin with.

"Yes. Good afternoon, Jade," you say.

Her eyes are following you, but they are slightly off, as if she can only see your shadow, and not you. So, you make sure to loudly sit by her side when you get close enough to her.

To which she simply nods, and stares back towards the dark forest around you.

You eye the mare curiously. A part of you just wants to stay there in silence, and hope that she finds your company at least pleasant. But you can't help but wonder about something else.

"I was wondering..." you start, slowly, for some reason being careful about your words, "I take it that you did this whole thing?" you say, referring to the place in which the two of you are.

You are not sure if you are really, physically within the Woods, or if this is an invocation of it, a reflection that you might see through a pool, or perhaps that you might see in the moon when its surface is like that of a mirror.

You think that it is the latter, since opening a portal into the Mansus doesn't sound like something that is even possible, but you still can't help but wonder how she did it.

"Yes," she answers simply, not even turning to face you.

"And you also did it on the cult's other meeting place, I take it?"

"Mhmm…"

You double-check your logic, just to make sure you wouldn't say something foolish, before you continue. Although trying to think in a straight line feels a little silly of you, right now, but you are sure that this Woods-like meeting place already existed on your cult's previous gathering place when you were first introduced there.

"But the Master taught us about the ritual circle a long time after that, I believe… so how exactly did you do it then, on that first time?" you finish you question, "how did you do it this time, again?"

You don't see any circles inscribed on the center of the clearing, after all.

However, the mare keeps looking towards the forest, to the point where a part of you wonders if she even listened to your last question.

Until you hear her take a deep breath.

And something inside of you freezes up, knowing that this much of a reaction from her means that she…

"The first time I did it was by pure chance," she says, her voice totally unphased despite the weight you can feel from them. "Doing it is… unpleasant," she finishes, and goes completely silent once more.

You do not understand what she means by that.

But you still feel like you have just asked something that you should not.





You hear leaves being stomped over, as the two final figures approach the gathering.

Windy Flakes still has his pleased smile about him, although the telltale way his eyes dart about makes it clear to you that he is utterly blind.

Comet Feet on the other hand…

"Is that noise… Comet Feet and Windy Flakes?" Starry Dancer, sitting next to you, whispers to nopony in particular.

And in return, the large pegasus looks towards her.

You have your eyes closed, and you know you have a particular advantage over everypony else in here. But it is precisely because of said advantage that you can see how Comet Feet is looking directly at her, more precisely than Jade Whistle even.

And his eyes seem somewhat… sharp.

But despite that sharpness, you detect no form of threat from him, although a small part of you whispers that maybe you should.

The two of them sit around the small circle the four of you had been forming, and Jade Whistle immediately begins to talk.

"I'll start," she says simply.

You think the winds might have grown a little quieter, on the upper part of the trees, but you are not sure. Still, much like in an earlier meeting, she can probably feel a certain attention on her.

"I have made some progress in searching for Princess Luna," she declares in her low tone, "the scrying ritual is ready in theory, but I haven't had the chance to test it for effectiveness or for things like false positives."

You can see her face turn in your general direction before she continues.

"I understand it if you can't, but I'd appreciate your help with testing it. But I know you have been busy yourself, so don't mind thinking about it as just a backup option."

She then goes completely silent. You think it would have taken a few moments for Windy Flakes to realize she was done, but he also starts speaking almost immediately, eyes opening wide as he certainly feels something about him.

"Our new front is done," he says, eyes darting around as if searching for something, "made it with having a place for our followers to meet in mind. Without it looking suspicious or being a place where they could only meet at night, that is."

He stops and looks behind his back for a few moments, before facing the rest of you once more and continuing.

"Starry Dancer also got us some incredible partnerships, so as far as bits are concerned, we shouldn't have a problem. I had just the income from regular clients and our cult members in mind, but I think it will go better than that. As long as the idea of something like this sticks to this small town, of course, but I'm confident that word of mouth from our own members can help us with that."

He shakes his head for a few moments, and you see the smile on his face disappear for a few seconds as if he is feeling disturbed by something.

But Comet Feet doesn't seem to join him on his concerned reaction.

"I grow," he says, his voice a low growl. "Approaching the fourth exercises soon."

He turns his face towards Jade Whistle as he says that.

"Will need you cadre to invoke an Influence, or else I will take longer than necessary."

You see Jade Whistle nod at that.

But you are not sure of how you feel about the pegasus' demeanor, in all honesty. His voice, although not actively threatening, definitely sounds as sharp as his eyes.

"On my part," Copper Secateur's voice interrupts your worrying, somewhat, "we managed to disrupt the investigations, and my followers managed to convert a few more of the population, but only a few. Couldn't get involved in it directly, though. Sabotaging the investigation very nearly ended… disastrously."

The mare shudders slightly at that, and you can tell that she is remembering a particularly close call of sorts.

She looks slightly rattled, as well.

"Uhm… it's my turn, right? Well, I managed to get close to a couple of wealthy families here in Ponyville!" she says brightly, "and I think I managed to point them towards Windy Flakes without a hitch, but uh... I don't think I managed anything else that is worth talking about."

You see Windy Flakes snort at that, whispering something about the mare selling herself too short.

But then, it is your turn to speak.

And you finally notice it.

Or rather, it finally turns its notice towards you.

It feels like a spotlight, of sorts, as if suddenly you have become very aware of your own body, and the position that every last strand of fur juts out from your coat, and the awkward symmetry of your teeth inside your mouth and the way your eyes can't see behind you and how your body feels heavy an-

And everything else. Except that the sensation is only getting stronger.

Far stronger, you must add, then the last time you have felt it, months before.

You feel like you are being submerged in water, a grey and heavy sort of water, with physical pressure covering you like a coat.

You feel like there are roots slowly growing around your hoofs, just shy from touching your coat properly but still scraping against your fur.

You feel like something old and large and terrible is right behind you, looking at you with its many eyes.

And a small part of you wonders how everypony else could have been subjected to that same scrutiny and not have flinched. In fact, you understand Windy Flake's reaction perfectly now, although you admit that you feel like displaying thrice the unease that he did.

But a greater part of you simply starts to talk, the words rolling out of your mouth mere seconds after you think about them.



It is a good thing, then, that you came with your story well-rehearsed.