> One of Our Twilights is Missing > by FanOfMostEverything > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Code: Wandering Star > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It began quietly, by design. A bubble of silence, a carefully placed note, and before either of those, subtle adjustments to the guard patrol routes. They did provide the promised boost to efficiency, but they also happened to leave the windows of the royal suite unobserved for just long enough. That hole took place in the wee hours of the morning, when only the Night Guard and other nocturnal professions of varying degrees of legitimacy were up and about. Including but not limited to students at the School for Gifted Unicorns cramming for exams. And when all the meticulously scheduled pieces came together, the owl-silent wings of a librarian carried her up and away into the first hint of dawn. A few hours later, the situation went from quiet to very, very loud. Homesickness was a funny thing, especially when home was both easily accessible and impossibly far away. Sunset planned on staying in the human world even after graduation—she wasn’t sure what strings the principals had pulled to get her legitimate documentation and she was happier not knowing—but there was something comforting about being near the portal even when she had no intention of using it. Especially on a beautiful Saturday for a beautiful picnic on Canterlot High’s beautiful front lawn with the beautiful— Twilight offered a sympathetic frown. “Embarrassing memory?” “Something like that.” Sunset cleared her throat and tried to will the blush off her face. “”So, how are things with Timber?” The frown deepened as Twilight glowered at the cole slaw. “I’d really rather not talk about it.” Sunset’s own gaze dropped to her paper plate. “Oh.” And, because apparently the universe didn’t feel that was awkward enough, two armored centurions straight out of the Roaman legions chose that moment to emerge from the base of the Wondercolt statue. They marched up to the picnic blanket with hardly any stumbling and loomed over the girls, the matching pitiless neutrality on their faces as menacing as the spears they clutched. “Twilight Sparkle of Ee-arth?” said one. Sunset and Twilight shared a perplexed look before turning back to the soldiers. “Uh…” said Twilight. The other soldier glanced at his compatriot and nudged him with a clenched fist. “Why are you saying it like that? You’re an earth pony.” “I didn’t want to assume,” the first muttered without shifting his gaze. “Well now they’re going to assume we’re idiots.” That got a glare. “Not if you had maintained some degree of professionalism.” “Excuse me if the species change threw me just a little off-balance.” Sunset, her train of thought having completed the abrupt track shift, cleared her throat and stood up. This wasn’t her first time dealing with the Royal Guard. “How can we help you, gentlecolts?” “For the record, I am Twilight Sparkle of Earth,” said Twilight Sparkle of Earth, also getting to her feet. “This Earth, anyway. The existence of Equestria has some fascinating ramifications regarding certain interpretations of—“ Sunset cut her off with an elbow to her side. “You already told them you’re a Twilight.” They traded lopsided grins. “Equestria needs you, Miss Sparkle,” said one of the guards, thoroughly ruining the moment. “Please come with us,” added the other. Twilight furrowed her brow and looked to Sunset. “Can they do that?” Sunset, for her part, was already digging through her bag for the enchanted journal. “Unless Princess Twilight made some massive legal changes she never told me about, they can’t force you through the portal for a bunch of reasons. But they wouldn’t be asking if it weren’t something important.” She opened the journal just in time to see writing scrawl itself across the next blank page. A chill went down her spine as she took in the missive. “Okay, yeah, you should go with them.” “What?” Sunset passed Twilight the journal. Moments later, it fell from nerveless purple fingers and nearly hit the pickles. “What!?” Twilight turned to the guards, a twitch developing in one eye. “What.” “If it’s any comfort, Miss Sparkle,” said one guard, “that’s been many creatures’ reaction.” “Word for word in the case of Chancellor Rarity.” Twilight sighed and turned back to Sunset. “I don’t suppose you can come with me?” That got a shake of the head as Sunset watched more text inscribed itself. “I’m needed here to lead the search.” “Oh.” The disappointed tone made Sunset wince, but the plan was clear. “Starlight Glimmer has volunteered to guide you given her own experience in this world,” offered a guard. Sunset stood back up and gave Twilight and eagerly accepted hug. “Good luck.” “You too.” Twilight squeezed Sunset as hard as she could manage, then pulled back with a fierce look in her eyes. “And if you find her, give her a punch in the arm for dragging me into this.” Sunset nodded, mirroring the expression. “Already part of the plan.” Turning into a little unicorn pony was only slightly less horrifying the second time around. Seeing it coming didn’t make it any less of a fundamentally alien experience: The surreal exchange of fingers for hooves; the hundred different wrongnesses from becoming a naked, hairy quadruped (excepting glasses and hair tie, which raised their own questions); the proprioceptive struggle to keep the horn in mind whenever her head was near any obstructions… In short, all of Twilight’s things were once again horse things, and it hadn’t gotten any easier to deal with. Still, she had enough spare attention to notice how, rather than the expected curious crystal, the room where she found herself was built from white marble. Also filled with an assortment of cardboard boxes, dusty furniture, and other ponies. “Welcome to Castle Canterlot,” said one of the guards, who were much less intimidating as ponies. “Oh dear,” said a familiar voice. “This will be a challenge.” The local Rarity trotted up, giving Twilight an equally familiar once-over. “Not impossible, but a challenge. Still, you’ll do better than Trixie.” “Trixie resents that,” pony Trixie trixied. It was the only way to adequately describe the experience. Twilight even glanced back at the mirror portal to make sure none of her classmates had snuck through. After that, she took a deep breath and asked the question burning in her mind since she read Sunset’s journal. “Okay. So. What happened to my counterpart?” “That’s the question of the hour, darling,” said Rarity. She looked to one of the windows. Twilight followed her gaze and, gobsmacked by the fantasy cityscape before her, nearly missed the rest of the response. “The sun went up this morning, thankfully, but there’s been no trace of her since aside from a letter she left in Spike’s room. And all that said was ‘I need a break. I’m sorry.’” Twilight managed to tear her eyes away from the marble minarets and blurted out one of the dozens of questions bouncing around her thoughts. “Spike has his own room?” Rarity’s furrowed brow said everything she needed to about Twilight’s apparent sense of priorities. “Of course. He is a growing dragon. Though at the moment the poor thing is going through his own contacts to see if there's been any sign of our Twilight. I fear he blames himself.” “I see.” With another deep breath, Twilight tried to focus on something relatively sane. “Any other potential leads?” “The Royal Guard has been preparing for a Code: Wandering Star since Her Highness’s accession was first announced,” offered one of her escorts, “but she is proving… elusive. Even by our most pessimistic projections.” Trixie didn’t so much smirk as settle into her default expression. Which was a smirk. “They’ve already checked every library and bookstore both here and in Ponyville.” The guard nodded. “The search will be much slower as we investigate lower-probability venues.” Twilight nodded in turn, adjusting her glasses and trying not to think about how she was doing that with a hoof. “And that’s where I come in, right? Personal insight into the mind of Twilight Sparkle.” The others traded uneasy glances. “Did Starlight not tell you?” said Rarity. “Tell me what? Her message just said my counterpart was missing and there were tasks only I could perform.” “Well…” Rarity gave a hesitant nod. “Yes, that is technically true. In the sense that we’re more concerned with the body of Twilight Sparkle.” Twilight took a moment to consider that statement from every angle she could. Her ears folded back as she arrived at the most reasonable interpretation. “You can’t be serious.” “Glasses aside, you are the spitting image of Sparkle circa the Ursa Minor debacle,” said Trixie. “Which is a problem, but one some platform hipposandals and illusory wings can address.” Rarity began to circle Twilight, bringing sharks to mind. “I’m a high school student. You expect me to fill in for your god-empress.” Trixie rolled her eyes. “You’re overdramatizing this. And that’s Trixie saying that.” “The princesses emeriti haven’t written back yet, but we have Discord covering the sun and moon, and he’s Pinkie Promised to keep them going at the usual rate for at least the next few days,” said Rarity, which somehow wasn’t the craziest thing that had come out of her mouth today. “I still know nothing about your world!” Twilight cried. “Certainly nothing about its political landscape!” Starlight trotted into the room with a smile on her muzzle that, despite knowing her for less than a week, Twilight still recognized as a sign that she was very proud of a terrible idea. “That’s where we come in! We’ve already gotten the weekend put away as a royal recess. Plenty of time to give you a crash course on who’s who and what’s what.” Trixie moved to Starlight’s side, matching the bad-idea grin. “And even when we’re through, you’ll mostly just need to sit on the throne and look princessy.” At this point, Cadence’s old breathing exercises were the only things keeping Twilight on her hooves. She looked longingly at the mirror portal. “What exactly do I get out of this again?” “Besides saving a nation from abject chaos, the admiration of millions, and all the privileges of royalty?” said Starlight. Twilight fixed her with a half-lidded glare and waved a hoof. “Hi. I’m Twilight Sparkle. Only the first entry on that list sounds even remotely appealing.” “Ah.” Starlight nodded. “Fair.” “You can also start establishing diplomatic ties with your world,” noted Rarity. “Our Twilight has been dragging her hooves there. She says it’s because neither world is ready to deal with all of the implications and consequences, but I think she’s just avoiding that Flash Sentry colt she refuses to discuss.” That got Twilight thinking. “Leaving a mess for her to clean up is more tempting than I’d like to admit.” Trixie chuckled. “I like this Sparkle. Can we keep her?” “Still,” said Twilight, “there is the matter of school.” Starlight shook her head, floating the other half of the quantum entanglement journal off her back. “Already taken care of.” “So,” Vice Principal Luna said as she passed the journal back to Sunset, “Twilight Sparkle needs to act as a body double for her magical pony counterpart for the sake of national security in your homeland, and will be indisposed for the foreseeable future. Do I understand that correctly?” “Yes, Vice Principal.” Luna slumped in her chair. Her apartment lacked the imposing shadows of her office, but she'd been able to maintain her usual air of authority even in a ratty concert T-shirt and jean shorts, at least until now. She heaved a sigh. “I can see why Celestia foisted this on me.” After straightened both her posture and her mask of professionalism, she continued, “I assume that this will preclude her attendance at the Math Olympiad this coming Friday?” “If it goes that long.” Sunset offered the best smile she could given the circumstances. “At least Crystal Prep has lightened up?” Luna grimaced. “Abacus Cinch may no longer be in charge there, but…” She narrowed her eyes. “Can I trust your discretion, Sunset?” That got a nod. “If there’s one thing I’ve maintained since my bad old days, ma’am, it’s being able to keep a secret.” “I suppose so.” Luna took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before she continued. “Principal Cadence and I have a wager on the event, and given my confidence in Twilight, I may have agreed to an… unwise proposal.” “Well, I’m sure it can’t be too bad—” “If Crystal Prep wins the Olympiad, Cadence will encourage Twilight to date one of her more repentant classmates.” It felt like Sunset had swallowed an ice cube. “What?” Luna shrugged. “She used to babysit Twilight and is still one of her most trusted confidantes. That said, I can tell you that Timber Spruce will make another young man very happy some day.” “Oh.” The chill kept spreading as Sunset took in the full implications. “Oh.” “The bet seemed like the best way I could delay her,” said Luna, as apologetic as Sunset had ever heard her. “The woman’s nigh-unstoppable once she puts her mind to matchmaking. And speaking as someone with her own history of subordinating her own desires for the sake of those she loves, you have been… less than subtle.” “I understand, ma’am.” The words felt distant, like Sunset was watching someone else say them. “If you’ll excuse me, I have an alicorn to track down.” Luna nodded. “Of course.” > The First Guard and the Finest Student > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The moment Twilight was through the portal, Sunset had her phone out and began contacting the other Rainbooms. Within the hour, everyone had assembled in her apartment and she explained the situation as it stood. Rarity put on a judgemental moue once Sunset was finished. “And you just let her go?” “What else was I supposed to do?" said Sunset. "We both agreed that letting Equestria descend into chaos wasn’t an option, and Twilight is the best body double in either world for the princess.” Rarity sighed, patience audibly straining. “Yes, darling, I’m aware. I’ve seen them next to each other in this world and in Equestria. You let her go by herself?” “She had two Royal Guards with her," Sunset said with a dismissive wave. "She was fine.” That got a deep breath and the slow tone that meant Rarity would be pulling her hair out if it weren't perfectly coiffed. “You let. Her leave. Without you?” Months of friendship with Pinkie had taught Sunset the value of obfuscating obliviousness. “If the princess did come to this world to escape the pressures of the throne, I have a few choice things to say to her.” Rarity gave a grudging nod. “Understandable given the circumstances, but we as a group can cover far more ground than just you.” "Obviously. That's why I called you. But I'm still going to help look for her here. I've been trusted with this part of the search and I'm not abandoning my post until I'm satisfied that the princess isn't in this world." “Fair enough." Rarity dipped her head to acknowledge the point, then immediately presented a sly grin. "We'll simply have to settle that quickly, so you can go be our Twilight’s knight in autumn colors. Especially after the debacle with Timber Spruce.” Sunset sighed. “Did everyone hear about that but me?” Applejack shrugged from the couch. "News t' me." Next to her, Pinkie held up her phone. "Timber updated his orientation on MyStable." "Yes, yes, the two of you are troglodytes who wouldn't know what to do with social media if it bit you on the bum, and I love you both dearly." Rarity placed herself on Applejack's lap with a shared smile. "Now, to business. How are we finding Twilight?" Sunset turned to Rainbow Dash. "Think you could handle it?" Dash grimaced and shook her head. "I mean, running from end of town to the other is simple, but a block-by-block search?" She fiddled with her geode necklace. "That's probably pushing it." That got several grim nods. The last thing any of them wanted was their powers cascading out of control from overuse again. "I could do it a little at a time," Dash continued, "but it's not like Princess Twilight's going to hold still while I look." "Not if she doesn't want to be found," added Fluttershy. "Runaways are never easy to deal with." Applejack rubbed her hands together and scooched out from under Rarity. "Reckoned we'd all have t' pull our weight." Rarity had her phone out, pondering her contacts list. "Many hands make light work, as they say. If we call a few friends, and they call a few friends, and so forth, we could have the whole school looking for her in short order." "Which might raise some uncomfortable questions about who this girl is and why an entire student body is looking for her," Sunset said with a grimace. Applejack put her hands on her hips. "Sunset, yer callin' for a manhunt." "Girlhunt, but yes." Rarity turned to Sunset, one eyebrow raised. "Do you want it done quickly or quietly? I cannot see how we are to manage both." "I can!" All eyes turned to Pinkie Pie, who'd been deep in thought up until now. The others' expressions were a mixed bag. For her part, Sunset said, "I'm listening." "Oh good. I was worried everyone would brush me off and then we'd spend the whole weekend looking and we'd only try my idea on Monday morning when we could've done it a lot sooner." Pinkie smiled her way through that sentence and the awkward silence that followed. Fluttershy bit her lip. "Do we really brush you off that much?" "Not really, but even I think this one is a long shot. It's just a long shot that will take twenty, thirty minutes tops." The other girls traded looks, and all of them saw none of the others had any better ideas. Rarity nodded. "Very well. Pinkie, the floor is yours." "Do I have to pay Sunset's rent?" "Pinkie," the others chorused. She giggled. "Sorry, reflex. It's really simple. We're just going to need one of Rarity's sleeping masks, a bucket, and Flash Sentry." Twilight was conflicted. On the one hand, while sociology was hardly her strong suit, she still appreciated the opportunity to experience the culture of another nation, world, and species firsthand. On the other, that last sentence had two more hands than she did at the moment. She knew from past experience that the species dysphoria would lessen over time (and, ideally, fondue.) But knowing that an entire nation was depending on her to fill her counterpart's horseshoes did. Not. Help. The horseshoes—"hipposandals," apparently—were one of the many matters she wished she could take the time to investigate. They were made out something that seemed like platinum, only with an iridescent sheen and the same vague sense of awareness as her geode when worn. Rarity had called them "starmetal" when Twilight had asked, and nopony had been able to tell her what that actually meant. There was simply too much going on preparing her for anything and everything she might have to deal with for her to get in another question. Thankfully, everything went at least a little quiet once the bespectacled mare with a brown bun and a clipboard herded most of the crowd out of the room, leaving just Twilight, Trixie, and the harness Trixie was attaching to her. Twilight looked at one of the satchels hanging from the harness, shifted her weight, and asked a question she knew she'd regret. But she'd regret not asking it even more. "What's in these?" "Mostly gunpowder," Trixie said far too casually. "Ah. I see." Twilight echoed that calm for two more words. "Next question: Why did you strap explosives on me!?" That got a chuckle. "It's funny. Hearing you yell at Trixie, it's like Sparkle never left." Twilight gritted her teeth. Random bits of energy unintentionally spouted from her horn. "Trixie." "Hey, hey, watch it with the sparks!" Trixie licked a hoof and pressed on the tip of Twilight's horn, sending a weird numbing sensation down a good portion of her spine. "We don't want these going off prematurely!" "I don't want them going off at all!" Twilight cried, skin crawling from whatever that had been. Trixie rolled her eyes. "Look, we aren't all archmage-level genius powerhouses. Some of us actually need some extra components to make the more advanced spells work." Twilight knew Trixie stood between her and the door. She still backed away from the other mare. If nothing else, she could activate the mirror. "What spell are you casting that requires bombs?" "Please." Trixie waved a hoof dismissively. "That much couldn't decorate a small room." The resulting confusion was enough to remind Twilight that she barely knew anything about this world, and what little she'd learned today had been political rather than chemical. "What?" Trixie actually looked abashed for a moment, something Twilight had never seen on either of her before now. "You didn't actually think I'd use black powder, did you? That's pink powder in there. Party-grade. Mostly good for noise and enough of a shockwave to scatter confetti." She grinned and reared up, horn aglow. "Or to produce enough smoke for a certain great and powerful illusionist to..." She let her actions speak for her from there, firing a magenta bolt and setting off twin booms that by all rights should have blown out Twilight's eardrums, to say nothing of her ribs. Yet all she felt were a pair of shoves. And by the time the oddly glittery smoke cleared, the satchel charges had been replaced with a pair of purple wings. Twilight had to peer closely at them to spot the slight transparency. After due consideration, she gave her initial report. "Huh." "Ta-da!" It was the most anemic "Ta-da" Twilight had ever heard out of a Trixie, but to be fair, this Trixie didn't look up to a more enthusiastic one, mane limp and sweat dripping off her face. "We'll need to bolster those once a day." Her knees shook for a moment before she steadied herself. "And I won't be doing much else while you're here." Twilight bit her lip. A Trixie referring to herself in the first person was never a good sign. "You okay?" "Just need a minute." Trixie sat gingerly, wiping her forehead with a foreleg. "This is pretty much the biggest spell I can cast, and that's with a catalyst and my special talent. But it's still longer-lasting and more stable than what Starlight could put together. You can't just throw raw power at illusions and expect it to work." She tilted her chin up, some pride working its way back into her voice. "It takes finesse. You didn't think they just called Trixie to Canterlot for her good looks, did you?" Twilight couldn't help but grin. "Thanks. Really." Trixie returned the expression. "Look, nopony's willing to tell me what the deal is with that magic mirror, but I can tell we both got dragged into something bigger than we're used to because Sparkle decided she needed a vacation. No sense taking it out on you just because you're her weird mirror-world clone thing." "Sure, let's go with that." Twilight sighed. "Honestly, right now, I just want to..." She shook her head. "No, it's juvenile." "Trixie prefers 'in touch with her inner foal.' Or that chuuni-thing that kirin called me once; it sounds much more exotic." "That actually means— Wait. That's it." Twilight turned to the mirror, then the city of pony Canterlot below. "I want to go home and have Mom tell me everything's going to be okay." Trixie nodded. "I still feel like that sometime. Actually, I should visit her while I'm in town." Twilight shook her head. "No, no, think about it. If I feel that way after a few hours of princess prep..." That got a gasp as Trixie sprang to her hooves. "Imagine how Sparkle feels!" She galloped out of the portal room. "Eureka! Trixie has it!" Finding Flash Sentry was a simple matter when Pinkie Pie was involved. Her ability to track the comings and goings of everyone at Canterlot High would have been terrifying in less whimsical hands. In hers, it led the Rainbooms to the playgrounds at Canterlot Park, filled with activities ranging from hopscotch boards to foursquare courts to the baseball diamond that Pinkie homed in on like a bloodhound. Fluttershy looked like she wished she was holding the leash. Not for the first time, she asked, "Why do we need Flash again?" And not for the first time, Pinkie shouted back, "There's no time to explain!" Applejack rolled her eyes. "We've been drivin' an' walkin' for almost twenty minutes. You've had plenty o' time t' explain." "I said there's no time to explain and I stand by that!" Thankfully, as they drew close enough to the diamond to see the field through the fence surrounding it, Sunset found the perfect way to cut off that argument before it could get going yet again. "There's Flash!" she cried, pointing at home plate. Their target crouched behind it and the catcher, wearing a similar mask. He spared them the barest glance and shake of his head before the pitcher threw. Once the batter swung and missed, he called, "Strike two!" Looking over the field, Sunset soon spotted why he was there. "First Base!" "Who?" said Fluttershy. Sunset pointed at the benches on the other side of the field, where one of the boys waiting to bat looked like a preteen version of Flash. "Flash's kid brother. Good kid; he never liked me when Flash and I were dating. I should've known; Flash loves volunteering for umpire duty." "Ah. A sport," Rarity said with clear distaste. "Rainbow?" Dash looked at her like she was some bizarre alien species. "It's baseball." Rarity nodded. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "I don't suppose you could swap in for Flash?" That got a shrug. "I can call strikes and balls, but I don't want to get in the way of sibling bonding." "Some things're sacred," Applejack said with a nod. "Plus, I'm pretty sure half of the players still think girls have cooties." Dash gestured towards the closer benches, where a few boys were staring at them with a mix of awe and fear. "I'd have awesome ones, but still." "Well, I suppose we could work around this if we knew why we needed Flash..." Rarity turned to give Pinkie a meaningful look, only to find her missing. A cry of "There's no time to explain!" came from the concession stand. Rarity sighed. "Of course there isn't." In the meantime, a player had gotten a good hit on the ball, and a series of throws concluded at home plate with a dramatic slide. Flash sliced his arms through the air, called "Out!" and prompted a shuffling of players. Sunset smiled, not least because she'd reached the limits of her baseball knowledge. "At least it's over." Dash shook her head. "Not if that scoreboard's accurate." Sunset followed her pointing finger to a display she hadn't noticed. One with more blanks than numbers, even after another "0" lit up. "Middle of the fourth. Little League games go for six innings, so there's still almost half of the game left." "Oh." Sunset took a deep breath, running her fingers through her hair and trying not to think about time compression spells. "Okay, new plan. Pinkie can keep an eye on the game and let us know when Flash is available." A cheer went up from the bleachers as Pinkie waved her arms, a differently colored giant foam finger over each hand and a jumbo tub of popcorn in her lap. "Go both teams!" "That works." Sunset turned to the others, still gathered around her. "In the meantime, check places you've taken the princess. Anywhere she might know in this world, any possibilities we can eliminate." After several nods and affirmations, the group split up. Sunset stayed in place, opening her contacts list and calling a number that had been given to her only for dire emergencies. If this didn't count, she didn't know what did. "Sunset," Vice Principal Luna said with measured neutrality. "I take it you have yet to track down our wayward 'exchange student'." "That's why I'm calling, ma'am. We've hit a delay with our current plan, so we're trying to cover as much ground as we can in the meantime. And, well, you do have a set of keys to Canterlot High." "I do, yes." Sunset could practically hear the rising eyebrow. "Notably, she does not." "Hey, if I could..." Sunset trailed off as her mind, already putting together several other contingency plans, realized just what her mouth was saying to whom. "Um..." "As long as you haven't significant-pause ummed since that fateful Fall Formal, I will overlook that." "Thanks, ma'am." "It's the least I can do given the circumstances," Luna said with just a hint of light-heartedness. "Meet me at the front entrance; we'll have this sorted out shortly." This wasn't the first time guards had been dispatched to Princess Twilight's childhood home, nor was it the first time the two guards approaching it had been here. That had been in a much less official capacity, back when they were still in the academy, as had been Shining Armor. Indeed, they had been chosen for their familiarity with the subject. Valorous Stance rang the doorbell and both stallions set themselves into the patient, familiar stance that could wait out continental drift. Twilight Velvet proved more prompt. After she opened the door and took one look at the identical armored unicorns, her mouth curved into a small smile. "Valor. Resolve." Two trained soldiers stared at a middle-aged housewife. Unyielding Resolve broke first. "Uh, Mrs. Velvet." She cleared the doorway, beckoning them in with a wave of a foreleg. "Please, come in. I made lemon squares." "Ma'am," Valor tried, "we're here on official—" Velvet turned her gaze to him, and coming eye to eye with the will that had raised Twilight Sparkle and Shining Armor nearly sent the stallion to his knees. "I said, 'Come in.'" After a moment to steady himself, Valor gulped and nodded. "Yes, ma'am." The interior was largely as the guards remembered it, perhaps with a few more bookshelves. It was hard to tell when the house was practically wallpapered with them. The kitchen at least made room for appliances and counter space amid the many cookbooks. Both stallions tried not to think of crossing the house as a forced march. Neither succeeded. Resolve spoke up once they were seated. "Mrs. Velvet—" She floated a plate and a fork in front of each of them, the former loaded with a generous serving of sugar-dusted lemon curd. "I'm not answering anything until you at least try these. I've been tweaking the seasoning in the crust." "Ma'am—" "You were always such well-behaved colts." Velvet's smile didn't shift an inch, yet the temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees. "I'm sure you weren't involved in any house parties Shining might have had while my husband and I were away. Certainly none that left red wine stains on the carpet." As one, each guards cut a corner off of his lemon square and brought it to his mouth. "It's delicious, ma'am," Valor reported. Velvet beamed, and the guards dared to breathe. "Glad to hear it." "Is Princess Twilight here, Mrs. Velvet?" said Resolve. She glanced upstairs. "For what it's worth, I would have gotten her out of the house before dusk." Both guards started to rise. Velvet's expression fell. "Sit down, gentlecolts." It wasn't a spell that made their legs give out from under them. It was sheer Authority with a capital A, the same force of personality that both stallions had experienced from Celestia herself, a tone of voice that went directly for ancient herd instincts and said "Obey." "Mrs. Velvet—" Resolve tried again. "No." She sat, still scowling. It was a circular table, yet she was at its head. "Gentlecolts, you need to hear this, and you're not the only ones who do. I have not seen my daughter this upset since she was eight years old and had just gotten her first B. She needs time away from the throne, and she will get it whether we like it or not. Dragging her back like a convict, even if any of us could, would only delay the inevitable and lead to an even longer absence." "Ma'am, Equestria needs its princess," Valor insisted. "And its princess needs the peace of mind necessary to rule it. You guard her physical welfare, gentlecolts. I've looked after her emotional welfare since well before you swore your oaths. She needs more than just crying into her fillyhood pillow." Velvet smirked. "Fortunately, the Princess of Friendship has finally realized that she's allowed to call on her friends and family for a few personal favors, not just the other way around." The guards shared an uneasy glance. Valor looked back at Velvet and nodded. "We'll convey the message, ma'am, but we do still need to get her back to the castle." Resolve glanced at the ceiling. "If we may?" "Oh, that." Velvet shrugged. "You can see if she left any leads in her room, but she left half an hour before you knocked." Both stallions got to their hooves. "She what!?" "But you—" "I never said she was still here." Velvet's gaze went distant, looking back at memories. "Besides, I've dodged enough authorities with A. K. to appreciate the value of a good diversion." After another traded glance, Resolve said what both stallions were thinking. "What?" She waved it off. "Oh, that's all in the past. And the statutes of limitations have all expired. Another lemon bar for the road?" Kibitz adjusted his monocle and sighed, the wind ruffling his voluminous mustache as he looked over report after report from the guard patrols across the city. Really, he should have retired alongside the diarchs. Raven had learned much of his hard-won wisdom, and young Spike could likely teach both of them a thing or two on the care and feeding of alicorns. But momentum was a harsh mistress, especially for a royal seneschal. And so, not for the first time, Kibitz found himself at the head of a rapidly expanding search party seeking a wayward princess. The door to his office opened yet again, and the flutter of pages came to rest atop the stack in his in tray. He didn't bother looking up; he'd have never gotten anything done if he did every time something new came in. "Thank you, gentlecolts," Kibitz said automatically. The expected answer of departing hoofbeats never came. He spared a glance at the fidgeting unicorns. Odd that they were so nervous; their rank insignias implied far more experience than he'd expect from that level of jitters. "That will be all." "We, uh, brought lemon bars, sir." Strictly speaking, Kibitz was outside of the guard's chain of command. Practically speaking, the stallion who made sure the princesses stuck to their schedule outranked everpony else as well. He considered the plate for a moment, then pulled up their report and gave it a cursory overview. The moment he saw one name in particular, he understood. "Courtesy of Twilight Velvet." "Yes, sir," said either Valorous Stance or Unyielding Resolve. "Kind of her to remember my nut allergy. She'd been making pecan squares when Mi Amore Cadenza last went missing." Kibitz sighed and floated a bar off the plate. "I should have sent somepony to her the moment this whole kerfuffle began. Age truly does show no mercy." The guards left him to the imposing stack, likely assigned to hoof out the treats on pain of maternal disappointment. Only a fool underestimated the will that raised both Twilight Sparkle and Shining Armor, after all, and even fools heeded her polite requests. And the treat did provide a pleasant counterpoint to the bitter conclusion that Kibitz soon reached. Princess Twilight had left not just Canterlot, but the entire province of Cantershire. The stallions had found a few potential leads, but that still left the remainder of Equestria and beyond for her to sequester herself. With another sigh, he dug out Raven's initial summary of the mirror double. A photograph of an understandably terrified young mare stared back at him, paper-clipped to the folder. "Pray forgive us, my dear," he muttered. "We have much to ask of you."