> Rising Night
>  by StLeibowitz
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The  Canterlot Palace archives at night were dark and forbidding to most ponies, so long as the pony in question was not a purple unicorn mare, student of Princess Celestia, widely acknowledged the most promising young magical talent in Equestria, and among the few who could probably give a certain yellow pegasus a run for her money in the national Quiet Game championships. She had never met said pegasus before; Twilight Sparkle, barely out of fillyhood, had never left Canterlot in her life. Had she not been staying at the palace for her studies, she would still be legally required to live with her parents – and likely as not, would still not be out in costume hunting for candy this Nightmare Night.

She lit her horn and trotted down the dark aisles of the book-filled library, glancing purposefully to either side of her as she searched for the section on foreign magic users. She had a report to do for the Princess, and nothing would stop her from completing and turning it in a week early. She hardly even noticed the darkness, much less feared it.

“…Foreign Languages…Foreign spells…untitled ancient scroll section…” She paused. Hadn’t she just organized these scrolls last night? It was shameful, really, that in a library things could get so out of order. Annoyed, she quickly rearranged the disheveled pile of papers and was on her way.

“Foreigners…foreign foods…foreign spellcasters…found it!” She exclaimed. The card catalogue didn’t lie, then. Since she had first been granted access to the Archives as Celestia’s personal student, she had noticed that books went missing without being checked out quite often, to be found misfiled or stacked neatly in corners. The head librarian, Dust Jacket, was as confused as the unicorn as to what caused this phenomenon. Despite these discrepancies, however, it appeared that the section of books on Foreign Spellcasters was perfectly in place. She began to peruse the carefully ordered rows of books.

Where is it? She gazed in puzzlement at the empty spot where Apple’s Archive of Archmages Abroad should have been. This is getting ridiculous.

Of course the one book she needed to find had vanished. It was only one of the least sought-after indexes of foreign spellweavers in Equestria, and had never been checked out by anypony within living memory!  Why would it be there when she needed it? From the absence of dust buildup in the space, she could tell that it had only been taken recently. Annoyed, she summoned another charge of magic and cast her locator spell – if the book was anywhere in her line of sight, it would flash brightly.

The flash came from the small reading area down the aisle, just outside of the radius of her light spell. To her shock, it revealed another pony as well – a jet black pegasus, reading the tome intently in pitch darkness. As the book flared violet, she threw her hooves up in front of her eyes and screamed in pained surprise, pitching her chair back and depositing her unceremoniously on the floor.

“Oh! Sorry!” Twilight shouted as she galloped over to the fallen pegasus mare, who was still covering her eyes and curled up into a protective ball on the ground where she had fallen. “I didn’t know anypony else was in here! Are you okay?”

As she approached, the pegasus began to shy away from her horn light. Twilight slowed to a stop. “I’m so sorry! Are you using a night vision spell of some sort? Did I hurt you with the flare?” Stars, she couldn’t live with herself if she’d accidentally blinded somepony who enjoyed reading enough to use a night vision spell to do so after dark!

As she edged closer, her horn light dimming as she approached, Twilight reached out a hoof to help the pegasus back up. “Please, answer me! Are you alright? Should I get a doctor?” Stars, please don’t let her be blind – 

“Ouch!” The lavender unicorn leapt back in surprise as the pegasus lunged for her, revealing a pair of piercing blue eyes with slit pupils that seemed to glow with inner fire – in addition to a pair of extremely sharp, stubby fangs that she sank into the unlucky pony’s foreleg. Twilight’s retreat managed to dislodge her, but it was still scary. The pegasus galloped off into the maze of shelving.

“Get back here!” Twilight demanded indignantly, charging after the stranger. The bookshelves were dense and numerous, making maneuvering difficult – especially in the near-absolute blackness – but she was a unicorn on the ground, and her quarry a pegasus unable to use her wings. It should have been no contest.

But where had she gone?

The unicorn found herself in an unfamiliar part of the Archives, lit solely by three floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a spectacular view of the valley beneath Canterlot. The stars in the night sky were beautiful, and the full moon cast deep shadows across the room. The pegasus was nowhere to be found, though the chamber offered enough of a space between the bookcases and the vaulted ceiling that she could have managed a quick jump or two had she needed. As she glanced around, hoping to find the stranger again, she heard the sound of a trap door slamming from the back wall.

When she finally found the well-concealed trap door a few minutes later, she stopped herself; was she seriously about to follow an aggressive pony into an unfamiliar space without telling anypony where she had gone? Shaking her head at her own foalishness, she conceded victory to her opponent and backtracked to safer pastures, wincing as putting pressure on her injured foreleg sent pain shooting up her nerves. When she got back to the reading area, after enduring ten minutes of steadily growing discomfort from the wound, she finally brought the limb into her field of view for examination.

The puncture wounds from the bite had swollen around the edges, turning an angry red and weeping blood. The swelling was a bit abnormal for a pony bite, but it was nothing to write home about. Still, she realized she should probably clean and bandage it as soon as possible.

Floating the book she had sought into her saddlebag, Twilight trotted in the direction of the Archives’ exit, ready for some rest after the chase. An odd night, to be sure.

*	*	*

The sunlight never shone with quite the intensity it did elsewhere through the windows of Twilight’s bedroom. Her quarters in the palace were a bit opulent, certainly – done in silver and ebony, carpeted in midnight blue, with ceilings tiled with constellations and nebulae – but something about the windows made the morning sun seem dimmer. She didn’t mind too much – there was nothing worse than waking up to a blinding beam of solar fire drilling into your eye – but it had always puzzled her.

So, with the anemic sunlight glancing off her coat like dull arrows, Twilight Sparkle awoke to the smell of pancakes and syrup, courtesy of her familiar, friend, and assistant, Spike the dragon, whom she had hatched herself and earned the undying loyalty of. Had she not known what was on the other end of the scent, she could have laid there all morning; as it was, her stomach rumbled insistently even before Spike arrived to shake her awake.

“Twilight, breakfast!” Spike walked in, shaking her a bit roughly to get her up fully. “Pancakes, syrup, and blueberries.”

“That sounds wonderful, Spike. Be right out.” Twilight answered happily. She swung herself out of the bed as Spike left and promptly collapsed to the floor with a cry of pain as her foreleg gave out beneath her.

“Twilight! Are you okay?” Spike was at her side immediately. “Oh…that doesn’t look too good.”

The bite wound on Twilight’s leg had gotten worse; black streaks now rimmed the inflamed area, darkening her coat in a radius of almost a half-inch. “Ow.” The unicorn added, quite unnecessarily. It was apparent just from looking at it that it hurt immensely.

“What happened?” Spike asked, staring at the injury in awe. Would his bite ever do that kind of damage?

“Something bit me in the Archives last night.” She answered, reluctant to reveal that she had almost blinded a pony and been bitten in turn. “I should have washed it when I got back. Grab the first aid kit, please; I’ll be in the bathroom for a sec.”

Sitting in her room again, foreleg washed, dried and bandaged, Twilight and Spike considered the bite wound, Spike in jealousy, Twilight in concern. In truth, she had washed it when she returned from the Archives. Its condition had degraded rapidly since its infliction; she hoped that the pegasus hadn’t had any combat curses like the ones she had learned about last year placed on her. A necrosis-inducing bite would not be fun to deal with, though she doubted the injury would become necrotic.

Best to just continue on with my day. She decided. It’s nothing, just a bad bite. It’s taken care of and I shouldn’t bother anypony else about it.

The quick meal helped distract her from her injury, and she even got in a bit of practice with her anesthesia spell before leaving to meet with the Princess. She hoped it would be a good day despite the bite; more than that, she hoped she would meet this mysterious pegasus who had attacked her in the library again.

> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The practice spheres thudded heavily to the floor for a third time, slipping from Twilight’s telekinetic grasp as another burst of pain made it through her anesthetic enchantment and broke her concentration. She didn’t dare take her bandage off in front of the princess; everything was perfectly under control after all, what kind of mage would she be if she couldn’t take care of a pony bite? She wasn’t technically allowed in the Archives after hours, either – exposing her injury could jeopardize her frequent visits in the quiet of night. Grimacing in pain and concentration, she reached out again and seized the spheres once more, beginning to move them through a few complicated control exercises.

The polished stone orbs whirled rapidly about, tracing out figure eights, co-orbitals, triskelions, pentacles, and faces. Her concentration didn’t slip again, despite another burst of pain from her foreleg. She laughed a little; she could do this! Everything was perfectly under control.

She felt the flow of energy to her horn suddenly slacken, then surge rapidly as if some blockage had formed and been removed. The spheres dipped in their paths and then shot off at high velocities beyond any normal pony’s control. Twilight ducked one of the spheres as it fired straight at her head and heard the sharp crack of stone shattering on shield as Celestia intercepted it.

“You seem a bit…distracted, today, Twilight.” The Princess of the Sun commented. “Does it have anything to do with your leg?”

“I doubt it. I feel a migraine coming on.” She rubbed her temple with her good forehoof; she did indeed notice the warning signs of a killer headache’s approach. She hated what she was going to have to do next, but there was little choice. “Princess Celestia, may I take today off? I’m not feeling well enough to continue my studies for now.”

“Of course, Twilight. I understand.” Celestia gave an understanding smile to back up her assertion. “I’ll check in on you tomorrow morning in your quarters to see if you are fit to continue then. You’re certain there is no larger problem I should know of?”

“Certain.” Twilight replied, and trotted past the Princess and out the door. She would have to reach her quarters as quickly as possible to avoid embarrassing herself in public. Magic-induced migraines sometimes came with…unique side effects. She had accidentally turned her coat bright red while in the throes of one when she had been a filly; she had no desire to accidentally turn somepony walking the Palace halls into a fly or a puddle or something equally difficult to reverse.

She was in the main hall when the full force of the migraine hit. Squinting her eyes against the suddenly bright lighting, she tried to puzzle out where her room was located, but her horn had other ideas. A surge of power flowed unbidden to its tip, despite the unicorn’s best efforts to suppress it, and the horn was ensconced in a bright glow as it tried to drag her forwards.

A seeking spell! She realized. Thank Celestia. I could have sworn this would be much worse.

It got worse. As the horn tugged her forward, she put her full weight on the wounded leg. The sudden shock of pain, combined with the magical migraine, caused darkness to close in on the corners of her vision. Despite her best efforts, the blackness constricted her line of sight to a pinprick before snuffing vision out altogether and sending the unicorn dropping into the pit of unconsciousness, horn still dragging her through the palace.


She awoke in a dark room, devoid of furniture beyond large cobwebs hanging in the corners. She was on her side, breathing deeply and evenly. Her leg throbbed, but the migraine appeared to have gone; instead, her main ailment now seemed to be the deep ache she felt in her eyes and jaw. With painful slowness, she lifted herself to her hooves again, keeping the bitten foreleg off the ground.

Where am I? She looked around for any hints to her location. It’s old and dusty, and the air is still; no air conditioning, then. Only the older portions of the Palace lack the heating ducts that were installed last century, so I must be in there, then. She groaned. This would be a fun predicament to get out of. The older parts of the palace were known for their…interesting design schemes; Discord would have been right at home in some of the more ancient halls, and several parts of the closed-off corridors seemed to incorporate impossible, magically-sustained geometries that made retracing your steps a chore.

The room had three doors in it. One, slightly ajar, appeared to be her entrance and likely exit as well. The other two were closed securely; of them, the one directly across from the entrance was unlocked. Curiosity overriding caution once as it had in her encounter in the Archives, she twisted the doorknob and edged into the chamber beyond.

She jumped back in surprise as she found herself facing a life-size portrait of…somepony. Head tilted, she considered the image, leaning unceremoniously against the wall and covered in a thick layer of dust. Clearing the worst off with a simple spell she had devised for books, she exposed more of the thing than the two eyes she had come face-to-face with.

The portrait was of a blue pony, her coat as dark as midnight, with a mane that looked to be cut from the same material that the night sky was made of. To Twilight’s surprise, she had both wings and a horn – an alicorn! Wasn’t Celestia the only one? The unicorn searched the bottom of the ornate silver frame for an inscription of some sort, giving the name of the subject. Ah! Here it is.

Luna, Dea Noctis ex Equestria et Coregina d’Equi. Luna, Goddess of the Equestrian Night and Queen of Ponies. Both titles reserved for Princess Celestia now, and only on the most formal of occasions. Had this been her predecessor? No, the use of coregina as opposed to simply regina implied a Diarchy, not a monarchy. Twilight had enough of a familiarity with High Unicornian to recognize the difference between the words, despite the fact that they made no sense. Puzzled, she left to try the second door.

Door number two concealed a far more impressive set of rooms than door number one. Twilight found herself in a richly decorated antechamber, floor tiled in black marble flecked with quartz, walls painted in silver and midnight blue, with green moss draped on the lip of the room’s boundaries to drape down along the edges. Each strand of moss was festooned with dozens of tiny white flowers, closed tightly.

Where was she? She couldn’t recall any part of the palace that looked anything like this at all. The floor tiling, the color scheme, the plants – none of these were familiar.

Oh, no.  She sank to the floor as she realized what must have happened – all signs pointed to it being correct. I must have teleported! I’m not in the palace at all, am I? It explains everything – I must have teleported into another nation’s palace! Never mind that she knew of no other alicorn-run nation anywhere in the known world; that only made things worse! If she found a map in here, she probably wouldn’t even see her homeland on it at all. She would have to find somepony to talk to, explain her situation, maybe try to find a job as a librarian in a small town that she could use to isolate herself from gawkers…

…assuming she wasn’t arrested for espionage first. She buried her face in her forelegs. This was not how she had imagined her day going at all. The prospect of never seeing her parents or her mentor again brought tears to her eyes.

After about an hour of wallowing in despair and the last fading vestiges of her migraine, she dejectedly trudged back to the open doorway in the previous room and pulled it open further. With a crack of bone on wood, she slammed headfirst into a wooden wall brace.

What the hay?

The door was sealed by plaster and wood framework, as if it had been covered up at some point and forgotten. She really must have teleported, then; there was no other way into these depressingly lit…okay, completely unlit…How am I able to see? Had she cast a night vision spell too? She didn’t feel any of the usual drain on her magic that a sustained enchantment would usually cause. Pushing that thought aside for now, she turned around and gave the plaster a sharp buck. Might as well get the espionage trial over with.

Then she turned around and felt two burning knives bury themselves in her eyes.

Twilight only removed her head from her hooves after she had crawled over into the darkest corner she could find and faced herself away from the light. That had hurt; like being stabbed in the face by a spear made of fire. The afterimage of the hole she had made still floated in the center of her field of view; apparently, she had teleported to a secret room inside of the sun.

Cautiously, she glanced at the door that the brilliant light glimmered through. Her eyes adjusted, but not nearly enough that she could look at it comfortably. With a slight exertion of will, she called up her magic and forced it into a spell, envisioning a pair of sunglasses she had once seen a mare wearing. The room darkened considerably, but at least she wasn’t blinded by the light. She peeked through the hole she had bucked in the plaster and breathed a sigh of relief. There would be no espionage trial after all.

Through the damaged wall, she could see the familiar white marble flooring and pastel walls of Canterlot palace. Her room was directly across the hall from where she stood; now that she thought about it, the color scheme in the garden room had been similar to her own chambers – which had carpeted flooring. She used magic to blast a hole in the wall large enough to walk through and trotted back to her quarters.

Once inside, she lifted a corner of her room’s carpeting with magic; sure enough, the floor was the same quartz-flecked black marble that the garden room had. But why had that portion been sealed up? More research was required, she decided, and resolved to fully explore beyond the doors she had seen in the garden. As she was leaving, though, she caught sight of her reflection in the glass covering a picture of her and her parents from the previous Hearth’s Warming Day. Something was wrong.

With a quick application of magic, the glass became fully reflective. Her eyes widened – at least, she thought they were hers. She couldn’t remember ever having slit pupils before, even though the eye color was the same. She bared her teeth, seized with a sudden suspicion of what she would find; sure enough, she now possessed two stubby, sharp fangs.

How did this happen? She stared at her image like a deer caught in a spotlight. Was it that pegasus that bit me?

It had to be, of course. There was no other explanation; she had had eyes like Twilight’s were now, and the holes in her foreleg were enough proof that she had possessed fangs as well. The unicorn reached the conclusion that her seeming ability to see in the dark and her painful sensitivity to normal light levels were related to this as well.

There was no way she could return to her studies now – not looking like some monster from a foal’s book. She would have to figure out some way to hide her appearance, an illusion spell powerful enough to fool Princess Celestia during hours of close contact every day of the week…her horn ached just thinking about it. There was no way she would be able to maintain a spell like that! She may have the raw power, but she lacked the skill – and Celestia was clueless about illusion magic. She would be no help in devising a disguise to fool her, even if that concept wasn’t self-defeating.

Although, she realized, I would only need to disguise my pupils and my teeth. That shouldn’t be nearly as difficult as a full-body illusion.

Almost unconsciously, the magic flowed, reshaping the reflection of her pupils back to their original rounded shape, and whittling her fangs down back to what they should be. Pleased with the spell and deeming the resultant drain on her magic acceptable, the lavender unicorn galloped back out of her room to find Celestia. She had a lesson to continue – and then, tonight, more research to do. Whatever had bitten her in the Archives, she was no pegasus; Twilight did not intend to remain in the dark about her nature for long.

> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Magical artifacts…magical seals…magical runes…” Nothing! There was nothing in this area about fanged ponies with catlike eyes that could see in the dark. It frustrated Twilight to no end. Had she a name to go on, she would have had all pertinent writings to her assailant’s species together in less than an hour. Instead, she had been passing over each and every shelf in the dark with a fine-toothed comb. At least she didn’t have to worry about her horn light revealing her position to anypony; thanks to her new night vision, she could see everything as clearly as if it were in bright sunlight.

Maybe she was looking in the wrong place? The description of her new attributes seemed a bit…paranormal. Mythical, even. Maybe the section on old myths?

As she checked over the shelves of scrolls and tomes on ancient myths and stories, she noticed another suspicious gap between books. Although she was unsure of what was supposed to go there, she realized immediately what it meant: the mysterious pegasus-monster was here tonight. Maybe she would have the answers.

She heard the clopping of hooves in the next aisle over. Without a second thought, she broke into a gallop and shouted for the stranger. “Hey! Wait up!”

She weaved in and out of the bookshelves in pursuit of the pegasus, never losing sight of her quarry as the chase ended up in the same section it had last time, only this time Twilight was between the intruder and the trapdoor. She kept her away from the escape, cornering her by the archway into the chamber. “Got you!”

The pony whirled around, trapped by the unicorn, and locked its brilliant green eyes on hers.

Green? This wasn’t the pegasus. She saw an aura of red magic ignite around the unicorn stallion’s horn.

Her scream of agony echoed around the Archives as a light brighter than the sun itself flared into existence at the tip of his horn, scorching her eyes and blinding her for what felt like an eternity – though that may have just been the unconsciousness setting in as she fainted.



“Nice one!” Midnight laughed, dropping from her perch atop the shelves. The stupid purple unicorn would think twice before chasing her again. “Stupid Day pony didn’t even see it coming.”

“Day pony?” Arcturus growled, his voice low and dangerous. “That is not a Day pony there, Midnight.”

“Of course she…oh, no.” The black pegasus saw the short fangs in the unicorn mare’s mouth and felt her stomach drop out from under her. “Did you fire it full blast?”

“Of course I fired it full blast! You asked me to, didn’t you?” Arcturus trotted over to the prone unicorn and muscled her up onto his back. “Come on. We need to get her back into the Underground before somepony sees us up here.”

“Will her vision recover?” Midnight asked worriedly, falling into step behind her friend.

“For your sake, I hope it does.” Arcturus turned the corner and casually flicked the trapdoor up with magic. “You know the penalties for this kind of thing. An eye for an eye, blood for blood…you get the picture.”

She swallowed nervously. If the lavender unicorn really was blinded, it would be best for her to just buck open the window and fly away now. She couldn’t lose her sight! A blind pegasus was like a unicorn without a horn, an earth pony without legs – inconceivable! An impossibility! Death would be kinder.

“Is there anything you can do to help?” Midnight dropped lightly down the shaft beneath the door. “You’ve got magic; surely you can patch up her eyes!”

“I wish.” Arcturus answered, dropping far less gracefully but somehow with more gentleness to the rough stone floor. “Because you need a quick patch job, too. How in Luna’s name do you mistake a Day pony for a Night pony? Didn’t her eyes give you any hint?”

“I had just been blinded too, you know.” She responded angrily. “And, well…she may not have been a Night pony then.”

Arcturus froze. “You bit her.” It was not a question; it was a statement of fact.

“Maybe.”

“You bucking idiot! You bit her? Have you no self-control?” the stallion roared.

“Calm down, calm down! Do you want the guards up there to hear us?” Midnight glanced nervously at the tunnel roof. “There’s a reason I move so quietly while up there.”

“That was really, really stupid of you.” Arcturus rumbled, lowering his volume and trotting to keep up. “And that means you knew. You knew she was a Night pony. You just made your case indefensible in a tribunal.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who’s getting her eyes slashed if Purple here never regains her sight.” Arcturus sighed. “You’ve really outdone yourself with this, Midnight. There was no need to pass on your bloodline this soon.”

“Luna doesn’t care, so long as she has eyes.” The black pegasus retorted.

“She may not even get those.”

“Okay, alright, I get it! I bucked up. Happy?” The black pegasus snorted in anger. “You think I wanted this? By the laws, she’s my responsibility now! I have to integrate her into our damned community in this city, and that’s going to cut deeply into my free time. Don’t you jump on my back here, too.”

“You know I’d support you, Midnight.” Arcturus answered, after a few minutes spent walking in silence. “I’d even take the blame for blinding her for you, too. It’s just not in my nature to abandon a friend in a time of need.”

“Of course.”

“You are uniquely suited to this task, though, you’ve got to admit.” The Night unicorn continued. “Being the most recent foreign addition to the Night in the past few years.”

“Joy. We can swap stories about our Day lives while we idle sightlessly in the Cistern, begging for bits.” She set her eyes forward, sparing not even a glance back. “She’s too young; barely more than a filly, by Day standards.”

“As are you.” Arcturus shifted their rescue’s dead weight to a more comfortable position.

“True.”

They continued on in silence for about a half hour, tracing the tunnel’s route under the city as they approached Lower Canterlot. Arcturus felt the unicorn stir on his back.

“She’s waking up.”

“Should we stop and orient her a bit?” Midnight asked.

“Probably. It’d help her not embarrass herself when we introduce her to the herd.” Arcturus dumped his cargo roughly onto the floor, awakening her fully and eliciting a squeak of pain. “Hello, Purple Unicorn, sister in the Night and now of the bloodline of Midnight the pegasus. Can you see me?”

“She’s new, not stupid.” Midnight chastised her friend for his careful, slow enunciation of the words. “But seriously, can you still see? We apologize profusely for the flare spell; we thought you were a Day pony, and it was intended as a prank.”

“I think I can see still, assuming I’m not hallucinating.” The unicorn answered carefully, a slight edge of anxiety audible in her tone. “Where am I? Who are you?”

“I’m Midnight and this is Arcturus.” The pegasus answered. “We’re in a tunnel running underneath the old city, on the way to integrate you with the rest of the Canterlot herd.”

“Integrate?” She looked confused for a second, before panicking and scooting back down the tunnel quickly. “No! Take me back! I don’t want to live in some sort of weird commune! Help! Somepony, help!”

“Quiet.” Arcturus ordered, lifting her telekinetically. “We’re not taking you to – oof!”

The wave of magic the lavender unicorn released was unfocused, blindingly bright (for the Night ponies), and packed a punch. Midnight and Arcturus were sent tumbling back by the blast, blinking the afterimage of the wall of light away as they struggled to reorient themselves. “Arcturus, grab her again. I dare you.” Midnight hissed, galloping down the tunnel after the unicorn.

“Look, how the hay was I supposed to know she’s a mage?” Arcturus answered angrily. “I think she broke something with that blast!” he began limping after his friend.

“You could have guessed, based on where we – “ She was interrupted by the sound of a loud crunch from further ahead. “Idiot. She blinded herself again with that stunt.”

They caught up with the escapee quickly, fining her on the ground clutching her snout at a bend in the tunnel. “That really wasn’t bright.” Arcturus grimaced as he put weight on his left hind leg. “You could’ve given yourself a concussion or something.”

“I’m not going with you!” She shouted in response, her horn glowing magenta as she prepared to cast another spell. She broke off very quickly when Midnight jumped at her and wrapped her forelegs around her head, biting firmly on her sensitive horn.

“I will break this.” She said calmly, speaking loudly to be heard around the horn. “Come quietly. No more spells or you’ll collapse the tunnel.” The purple unicorn nodded meekly.

“I don’t believe we got your name, miss.” Arcturus smiled pleasantly. “Surely, I’d have heard of such an impressive young magical talent as yourself.”

“I’m Princess Celestia’s personal student!” She answered proudly. “My name is Twilight Sparkle – OUCH ouch ouch ouch ouch –“

“Shut up.” The change in Midnight’s demeanor was shocking. Tightening her grip on Twilight’s horn and pushing it forward a bit, enough to force the unicorn’s head down as she tried to ease the pain, she ordered the unicorn to walk.

“Why are you – OUCH! Stop that!” Twilight cried out again.

“I said shut up.” Midnight repeated. “Anypony who works with that monster has already committed an irredeemable crime in my book.”

“What do you mean, ‘monster’?” Twilight grimaced but managed to avoid another exclamation of pain as the pegasus increased the pressure on her sensitive horn. “She’s perfect! She’s never done – “

Twilight shut up as the pegasus slammed her head into the side of the tunnel. Arcturus remained silent.

“Have you told her you’re a Night pony yet?” Midnight demanded. “Have you?”

“…No.”

“Then don’t tell me about how “perfect” ‘her Majesty’ is.”

“Sorry.”

“No. No, you’re not.”

“Detour time.” Arcturus stood in front of the two mares.

“I said I’m not going back to that place, Arcturus.” Midnight growled, forcing her captive forward a few more steps before she felt herself be lifted off of the unicorn.

“You are now.” He commanded. “You don’t treat other Night unicorns like that without giving a reason, Midnight.” The red unicorn turned to Twilight. “Looks like there might be a delay in our arrival time at the Cistern. No funny business, got that?” The smaller mare nodded.

“Follow me.” The three began to trace their path down the tunnel again, Twilight sandwiched between a trotting Arcturus and an unhappily floating Midnight.

I hope that filly takes this well. He thought. If she truly was the Princess’s personal student, things between them might get a bit rocky after this.


> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Twilight is missing.

That one thought kept repeating itself in Spike’s head as he wandered the palace in search of Celestia. The Princess would know what to do, he told himself; find Celestia, and he would find Twilight. It was probably just a late-running practice session, anyways; nothing to be so worked up about. Nevertheless, he felt that something was amiss. The bite wound from earlier, maybe? He shook his head; he’d bandaged and disinfected that himself earlier; it couldn’t be the reason for her absence so long past both their bedtimes.

The baby dragon folded his hands nervously as he walked through the imposing hallways of the Palace at midnight. The flow of aides, secretaries and nobles that ran through them like blood cells in an artery network during the day was missing completely, leaving only sporadic groupings of idle Royal Guards, huddled in the light of torches. As he passed a pair playing poker behind a pillar outside Celestia’s private office, he heard voices coming from within. Curious, he paused outside to listen.

“…they’re gathering in numbers again, Princess! Just say the word, and the Brand will burn once more.” Spike didn’t recognize the voice, though it was definitely a stallion, probably middle-aged.

“I cannot condone this kind of preemptive action, general. If they were actively rebelling, I would send your ponies without a qualm, but this…” he heard a hoof thump on a stack of papers. “This is hardly enough to warrant local constabulary.” That was the Princess alright. Spike smiled; he’d just wait until they were done speaking before heading in.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, you are too soft-hearted. The Nighters are a threat – them and their weird cult. My advice, as always, is to stamp them out soon and thoroughly, before we get another incident like the one in AL 647.”

“Your soldiers will stay in the stables until I order it, Firebrand.” Celestia’s voice filled with authority. “And not a moment sooner. The Night ponies are not a threat. Their cult is not a threat. Your activities recently have caused more harm than good.”

“Princess, I – “

“You are dismissed, general.”

“I – “

“Dismissed.” Her tone left no room for dissent. Spike heard hooves on marble as the General marched out of the office. Spike made himself very small as a tall, orange-coated pegasus stallion with a crimson and yellow mane in full battle armor trotted past. He debated if speaking with the Princess now would be a good idea; surely, Twilight wasn’t here. She must have returned to their quarters by now…

“You can come in now, Spike.” Celestia called out wearily. Horsefeathers; now he had to tell her.

“Hello, Princess.” The baby dragon edged nervously into the room’s doorway giving him a good look at the interior. The office walls were painted a warm yellow and left bare, except for a fireplace roaring merrily to his left and a low bookshelf behind Celestia. It was surprisingly spartan for the office of a ruler.

The white alicorn at the desk laughed a little.  “Come in, please. It will be good to speak with my student’s assistant for a little.” A concerned look flashed across her face. “How is Twilight, by the way? She retired to her room earlier with a headache. Will she be out for lessons tomorrow?”

“Um…actually, Princess Celestia, ma’am…” Spike cleared his throat nervously. She would not like this at all. “I came to ask about her, actually.”

“Yes?” the alicorn seemed to realize something was amiss.

“Well, she…neveractuallycamebacktoherroomtoday.” The words forced themselves out in a jumbled rush; best to get it over with, his tongue explained itself to his brain. “I haven't seen her since she left this morning.”

Celestia froze. “Perhaps she has merely teleported herself somewhere and fallen asleep? She was experiencing a rather potent magical migraine, after all.”

“Maybe…” As Spike said that, the general from before galloped to a halt behind him, followed quickly thereafter by a young guardspony.

“Princess Celestia, this guard reports witnessing a bright flare of light from the back room of the Archives earlier tonight.” The general’s tone was businesslike, a far cry from the angry familiarity he had expressed earlier. “He says he investigated the source of the flash and found signs of a struggle.”

“Alert the Royal Guard. Have teams comb the castle hallways regularly, and dispatch patrols throughout the city to locate my student.” Celestia stood from her seat abruptly. “Gather five of your best ponies and meet me in the Archives in thirty minutes. I need some time to perform a track on Twilight.”

“Your student is missing?” Firebrand asked.

“Evidently, she never arrived in her room after leaving her tutoring session with me earlier today.” Celestia answered. Spike slowly edged away from the scene; a quick escape was not out of the question, if he left before he got roped into this mess. It was midnight, after all…

“Then we can only assume that these events are related.” The pegasus concluded, omitting his theory on who the perpetrators were. “I’ll scramble the Brands and Wonderbolts to comb the streets. We’ll find your apprentice, ma’am, don’t worry.”

“I have complete faith in you, general.” The Princess pushed past him and galloped towards her quarters and the runic circle contained inside. “Don’t let me down.”




Fact: She was being held captive by an angry black pegasus and a red unicorn.

Fact: She was in a tunnel under the Old City district of Canterlot.

Fact: She was probably going to be taken to a commune and be assimilated, brainwashed, or otherwise forced to stay there against her will.

Fact: She had no idea what the red unicorn wanted to show her.

Fact: Lists are calming. Never underestimate the calming power of a list.

Back from the brink of panic, Twilight Sparkle glanced disinterestedly around at her surroundings. The tunnel was uninspiring as tunnels went – no plant life, no insect life, no wall decorations; it was a purely utilitarian design. It offered nothing in the way of diversion, nor did her traveling companions and captors – the unicorn merely answered her requests for information on their destination with an enigmatic “You’ll see” and it was glaringly obvious that the pegasus wanted to kill her.

They had been traveling for what felt like hours, but even at their speed Canterlot wasn’t big enough to take that long to traverse, so she assumed her internal clock was either very wrong or they had left the city entirely and she should have changed one of her facts to an assumption. Of course, when she asked Arcturus where they were she got:

“You’ll find out eventually.” 

From who, though? Midnight hated her, and she was the only other pony around.

At long last, they reached another trapdoor. Arcturus swung it open and lifted a suddenly teary-eyed Midnight out. He turned to Twilight.

“Don’t talk to her until she speaks with you. This was her parents’ house.” He told her solemnly.

Was? Twilight, curious, pulled herself out of the tunnel and found herself in the charred remains of a house.

It had been a nice house, she could tell; standing proudly on a hilltop outside of the capital, made primarily of brick and wood, surrounded by acres of forest. Several of the brick walls even remained standing, their surfaces covered in a layer of ash where overhanging debris sheltered them from the elements in the intervening years. The ground was covered in shattered bricks and smashed tiles, crunching under hoof as she silently picked her way across the dark ruins. The moonlight would have been barely enough to see by a few days ago; now, she could make out every detail, even in the darkest of shadows. It was like somepony had taken a silvery light and shone it everywhere.

The three ponies spread out from the trapdoor, which had been situated in the only area of the ruin not covered in debris; Arcturus stationed himself by the front doorway as the black pegasus began shifting chunks of stone away from the adjacent wall. Passing through an archway formed by the sagging upper story and a surviving wall, Twilight almost slipped on a book cover, sending up a small cloud of dust and ash as the dragonskin was disturbed. It was a sad sight, yes, but how did this prove that Celestia was a monster?

“They left him.” Midnight’s voice broke the quiet that had settled after she ceased scrambling through the rubble. “They burnt his house and stabbed him and they didn’t even have enough decency to dig a shallow grave.”

Twilight galloped over to where the pegasus had sank to the ground, struggling to hold back tears. She slowed as she glimpsed what lay under the pile Midnight had disturbed; grinning skeletally up at her was a unicorn’s skull, horn snapped in half, top caved in by a chunk of rock. Gently levitating other pieces of debris out of the way, Twilight disinterred the rest of the skeleton, shattered almost beyond recognition.

“Who was – “

“My father, Orion.” Midnight answered miserably. “Why did you make me come back here, Arcturus?”

“Because you needed to see this.” The unicorn answered simply. “Both of you, but you especially, Midnight. Nothing good comes from ignoring things like this – and Twilight provided the perfect opportunity.”

“I don’t understand.” Twilight turned her uncomprehending gaze towards him. “How does this prove your point? Who killed him?”

“She did.” Midnight hissed. She rose to her hooves and motioned for the lavender unicorn to follow her to the front of the house.

There, scorched into a tall oak tree that stood proudly by the granite walk up to the house, was an eight-rayed sun – Twilight immediately recognized it as Celestia’s cutie mark, but something was off; the rays looked a bit more like lightning bolts than fire, more jagged than rounded.

“More accurately, her Brands did.” Arcturus spoke up from behind them. “With her blessing, General Firebrand and his pegasus squadron hit the place in an attempt to defuse rumblings of discontent at her treatment of Night ponies in general – ironically, Firebrand’s actions being the main source of our mistreatment. She knows what he has done, and yet keeps him in command of Equestria’s air guard.”

“They both deserve death.” Midnight declared. “Firebrand for killing them – both of my parents – and Celestia for ordering their deaths.”

“No!” Twilight shook her head, pressing on before Midnight could stop her. “I know the Princess, and I know she wouldn’t order something like this to happen. If Firebrand did it, he did it on his own.”

“He’s Celestia’s personal attack dragon.” Midnight spat. “He had orders! If anything, the bastard is less guilty than the Princess! Celestia is the one who ordered them dead!”

“Quiet!” Arcturus forced his friend to the ground with an insistent hoof, motioning for Twilight to drop down as well. Twilight watched as his horn glowed and wove a dome of ruby lines over them all. “Pegasi up in the sky to the east; full body armor, moving in a sunrise search pattern. Keep down and keep quiet, and be ready to move when I say so.” The two mares nodded. Twilight watched as the patrol flew overhead, wondering why she didn’t just jump out of the concealment Arcturus had woven and reveal herself. It would be easy enough to explain things to them; as Celestia’s personal student, she might even be able to get Midnight and Arcturus excused and released!

Seeming to sense that Twilight was about to give them away, Midnight wrapped her in a headlock for the second time that night, locking eyes with her and shaking her head slowly as she tapped the unicorn’s horn with her hoof. She got the message; not a word, if she wanted to keep her magic.

Arcturus motioned for them to start crawling back towards the house and trapdoor; despite the weight of the pegasus on top of her, Twilight made good progress, remaining inside the concealment. They were about three lengths from the door to the house when the pegasi landed.

“It’s just a skeleton, Firebolt.” The lead pegasus, a mare in a black-edged orange flight suit, bent over Orion’s skeleton. “Not a pony.”

“It used to be a pony.” A second responded, in a similar suit. Two more pegasi laughed as they hit the ground with loud thumps.

“I could have sworn I saw something else down here.” A smaller pegasus mare spoke up. “Not there, out in the front; a little flash of red or something.”

“You’re certain?”

“Dead certain.”

The leader nodded. “Fan out and search the place. Watch for ghosts.” More laughter; the squadron began to disperse out in an arc, sweeping their feet through the tall grass.

“Horseapples.” Arcturus breathed. Twilight could see the sweat beading up on his forehead as he struggled to maintain the spell for three ponies. “If they break the edge of this web, the whole thing breaks down and we’re out in the open for all to see.”

“They’re Day ponies.” Midnight whispered. “We could probably drop the spell and jump them before they even knew what hit them.”

“The moon isn’t that dim tonight.” Twilight pointed out. “And I doubt you could take out five military pegasi, even given the element of surprise.”

“And what do you suggest we do, o mighty warlock?” Midnight retorted. “Surrender?”

“Girls…” Arcturus tried to quiet them.

“I’m Celestia’s personal student! I can get them to let you guys go.”

“They’d kill us on the spot. One word aimed at them, and I snap your horn.”

“Girls…” The strain was evident in the unicorn’s voice as he poured more energy into the spell to mask their raising voices.

“Do that, and see how loud I scream.”

“Gladly!”

“Midnight and Twilight!” Arcturus winced at how loud his voice sounded as it rebounded off the concealment. “Shut up! I can’t maintain this much longer, so get ready to come out swinging!”

“Get off me if you want to avoid being hacked to pieces by their wingblades.” Twilight lit her horn as Midnight released her headlock. With a moment’s hesitation, seeing her chance to escape dwindle to nothingness, she touched her horn to Arcturus’s and allowed him to draw upon her own store of magic. Combined with their silence, it was enough to considerably ease the strain on the red unicorn and maintain the spell.

“They’ve moved past us.” Midnight announced. Twilight and Arcturus sighed in relief.

“Start moving again.” Arcturus instructed. “Let’s get to the trapdoor before they circle around.”

Those thirty feet to the hatch were the tensest thirty feet Twilight had ever traveled. She could hear the pegasi guards searching the premises; she knew any dislodged bit of rubble could draw their attention and possibly get her companions killed – something she could not allow in good conscience. She stifled a yawn as they drew within range of the short drop back into the tunnel, and followed Midnight in as Arcturus sealed the trap door and dropped the concealment.

“Are you seriously getting tired already?” Midnight looked at Twilight with something approaching disgust. “The Night’s just getting started! It’s only around midnight or something – we’ve still got hours until daybreak!”

“She’s only been a Night pony for a day or so, Midnight.” Arcturus reminded her. “She hasn’t gotten into the sleeping pattern yet.”

“And she never will if we let her sleep now.” The pegasus turned to the lavender unicorn. “Come on! March!”

And so they did, Twilight feeling the exertion of their trip fully with every step she took now that the danger had passed. Something in her mind had decided that these two were good company and unlikely to slit her throat in her sleep, and now all she wanted was a quick nap. It would be easy to just lay down against the tunnel wall, close her…eyes…and…drift…

“Nope!” Twilight felt her breath explode out of her lungs as the pegasus bucked her midsection. “Walk! Come on, we’ve got to make the Cistern by daybreak.”

> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The Palace Archives were a depressing place at night, in Firebrand’s opinion. While he had always preferred burning books to reading them, he accepted that some knowledge needed storage outside of the fragile minds of ponies.

Still. He thought, his eyes probing the darkness beyond the range of his companion’s light spell. They could have lit it better.

The condition of the library’s lighting was abysmal; almost literally so. Firebrand had stared deep into abysses in the Crystal Caverns below the Old City during the Hunting Years, as he called them, and the lighting in those great crevices was only a few shades darker than this place at night.

“Where is that alicorn?” He muttered under his breath. “A half hour she said. Be ready immediately, she orders. What does she do then? She’s probably up in her damned quarters preening.”

“She did say she was going to perform a Track, sir.” The white unicorn stallion that accompanied Firebrand, little more than a recruit, pointed out. “That’s a complicated procedure. A half-hour was an optimistic estimate.”

“Stick to your shields, Shining Armor.” Firebrand growled. “And correcting a superior officer while he’s in a foul mood is no way to advance in my Guard.”

“We serve the Princess.” He responded. Was that a trace of defiance Firebrand heard in his tone?

“We serve Equestria, colt, and don’t forget that.” The orange pegasus turned his attention back to the shadows surrounding them. “And sometimes, that duty transcends our loyalties to the Princess, however involved with our family she may be. Am I understood?”

Perplexed, Shining Armor, Sergeant in the Canterlot Royal Guard, nodded. Firebrand could see that the stallion thought he was a bit off his rocker, but he could live with that. Generals didn’t have to worry about the opinions of those with such a lowly rank.

He saw something move in the dark. “Identify yourself!” He barked, hearing chuckles coming from ahead. Another unicorn’s light flared into being.

“Told you you couldn’t sneak up on the General, Spectrum.” Flare laughed. The grey pegasus Brand stepped around the bookshelf to the general’s right. “He’s got eyes like the Nighters themselves, and is twice as on edge.”

“Careful with your words, private.” Firebrand reprimanded him sternly, smiling on the inside. “Ponies have been court-martialed for less.”

“I’m a Brand, one of the best fliers in Equestria, and on top of that your younger brother.” Flare countered. “The courts wouldn’t touch me with a five-length pole.”

“Maybe not.” He conceded. “But show a little respect, please. I may be your brother, but I’m your superior by several tens of pay grades.”

“Aye aye, general.” Flare saluted, about facing to march back to his posting humorously but succeeding in slamming his head on the shelf with enough force to shake a few scrolls and books loose. Firebrand felt a heavy tome slam into his head and had to blink the stars out of his vision.

“Careful, private. Try to be a bit more serious, please.” The general glanced down to see what had hit him; by the words printed in the top center of the right page, it was an old copy of “Predictions and Prophecies.” Snorting, he prepared to buck the bound stack of hogwash into the shadows, but the heading at the top of the left page caught his eye. Curious, he gestured to Shining. The book hovered up to eye level as he scanned the text.

Does the Princess know about this? Was Firebrand’s first thought. No; no, she couldn’t .You would have to be a fool to ignore this kind of information.

Perhaps it will be time to dust off the old wing blades? A predatory grin crept onto his face. He would inform Celestia immediately, of course! This could be the spur he needed to get the alicorn mare to see things his way for once. No more waffling on the Nighter issue; just harsh, decisive action.

“I apologize for the delay.” Firebrand heard the clopping of hooves on the Archive floor as the Princess herself appeared out of the darkness. Speak of the devil. He turned to her.

“Ma’am, I believe I may have discovered a potentially grave threat to national security.” Firebrand had Shining Armor float the open tome in front of Celestia. “One that could force a re-evaluation of the Nighter threat; we know they have seers. It would be irresponsible to think they do not have a similar prediction.”

“You shouldn’t place so much faith in old prophecies, General.” Celestia laughed, pushing the book away with her hoof. “I had thought you better than this.”

“Princess Celestia, this is a potential threat to Day pony sovereignty, your rule, and Equestria’s security as a whole.” Firebrand pressed. “We would have to be foals to discount it out of hand.”

“I’ll put a team on it, Firebrand, but for now, let us focus on the issue of my lost student and a potential threat to Palace security.” The alicorn’s voice left no room for debate. Firebrand gritted his teeth.

“Yes, ma’am.”

As Celestia trotted out of earshot to meet with the rest of his gathered Guards, he glanced at his aide.

“You saw that, didn’t you?” Shining nodded; the Princess had looked worried for a moment, before laughing and dismissing the General’s concerns. “Something isn’t right.”

“She has no intention of putting anypony on this, of course.” Firebrand growled to himself. “I was stupid for assuming she knew.”

“Sir, we should catch up…”

“I will not be able to help in this endeavor, Shining, and I never intended to. I’ll head out and join the rest of the Brands in flying overwatch.” Firebrand prevaricated. He had things to do. “Good luck finding your sister, colt. I have a feeling you’ll need it. Don’t put darkness at your back and for the love of Celestia, if it attacks, kill it. That’ll save your life.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Go, catch up. Shields will be needed for this op.” Firebrand trotted over to a window and pushed it open. With a powerful beat of his wings, he jumped out and caught the thermal he knew was there.

If Celestia wouldn’t take action to protect her nation, then Firebrand would do it for her. It seemed to him that he was doing that more and more often these days.


“How long are these tunnels, anyways?” Twilight complained after yet another hour spent in the subterranean tube. “We’ve been  walking for hours.”

“We’ve got quite the network down below Canterlot.” Arcturus answered. “We’re about a half hour out from the Cistern.”

“Thank Luna.” Midnight exclaimed. “I’m sick of walking. My hooves are sore and my wings are cramping.”

“What is the Cistern?” Twilight stifled yet another yawn. She’d thought that after a certain point, she’d just stop feeling the fatigue and get a second wind to carry her forth, but it seemed that only happened after too little sleep – not no sleep at all. “You keep talking about it, but you’ve never actually told me what it is.”

“Well…it’s a Cistern.” Arcturus laughed at the young mare’s look of disapproval. “You’ll see soon. Big open space underground, large supply of spring-fed water in the center. It’s our home, especially when the Brands are on the hunt.”

She nodded, placated. She had long since given up on creating escape plans; the tunnels were just too narrow for any dodging or decent duel, and she had no illusions as to what Midnight would do to her horn when they subdued her again. Life as an earth pony was not something she wanted to consider at this junction.

Oh, look. They had arrived a T in the tunnel. A junction.

“Which way?” She asked tiredly. Somehow, she had outpaced both Night ponies and was now at the head of their little group.

“Right turn.” Midnight answered. “Should be straight on to the Cistern from here.”

Twilight noticed an odd glow on the tunnel walls. She was casting a shadow now, too. Eyes widening, she realized what was going on an instant before her friends (she paused mentally. Friends?) stepped into the junction as well. She leapt at them and tackled them back in the opposite direction. “Light spell! Ponies! Hide!”

“Who’s up there?” She heard a stallion call out from the direction of the light. “Show yourself!”

“Horsefeathers.” Arcturus lit his horn, preparing a concealment for them. Twilight prepared to lend him any power he might need.

“Let’s check it out.” A second voice spoke. The lavender unicorn heard hooves on stone as the Guards galloped forwards.

“No time!” Midnight whispered frantically. “Combat spells! Hurry!” She positioned herself to pounce at the guards when they appeared around the corner. Arcturus stood again and funneled more energy into his horn as Twilight cast her blinding spell. The tunnel dropped into darkness again, lit intermittently by the approaching Day ponies’ spell – hopefully, she’d be protected if they tried a flare. The three waited.

The first guard around the corner did indeed light his horn with a flare, dazzling Twilight’s vision despite her spell and causing Midnight to shriek mid-pounce. She still connected, wrapping the unicorn’s head in a headlock that he was unable to dislodge; the helmet didn’t protect his horn, and the black pegasus snapped it before dropping to the ground and losing her footing. The unicorn’s shout alerted his companion, a white pegasus with extended wings edged by razor-sharp pieces of steel. The pegasus dodged Arcturus’s spell, which buried itself in the wall behind him and reduced it to sand. The unicorn bucked Midnight in the chest, folding the blinded Night pegasus over and leaving her gasping for air. Twilight realized that if she didn’t help soon, her friends would be overwhelmed and likely killed.

The thunder from her lightning bolt stunned the combatants, and the violet-white shaft of electricity grounded itself firmly in the pegasus’ unprotected wing, blasting him backwards and convulsing him as the magic coursed through his body. He collapsed to the floor, unconscious, with smoke rising in streams from his scorched feathers. The injured unicorn delivered another kick to Midnight’s face before turning his attention to Twilight. He gasped in surprise.

“Lady Sparkle, what are you doing? We’re here to rescue you!” He erected a glowing teal shield in the air between them. Twilight saw that Midnight was on the wrong side of the shield, her unconscious form sprawled on the floor carelessly. She had no doubt in her mind that if she died, the Guards would leave her body behind just like they had for her father.

“You hurt my friends.” Twilight stated simply. Her horn glowed as she gathered power for a second bolt.

“Friends?” The unicorn guard sneered. “These are Night ponies! Please, come with me and we’ll get you out of these damned tunnels.”

“Will my friends be left alone?” She asked. If she went with him, maybe he’d leave them alive.

Arcturus stood beside Twilight. “He won’t.” the red unicorn said. “I know this pony. He’s one of Firebrand’s creatures.”

“Quiet, Nighter.” The unicorn snapped. “You’re lucky I didn’t kill you last time we met. I won’t be so careless if you interfere this time.” He turned to Twilight. “Please, Lady Sparkle. Let’s get you back up to civilization.”

She froze with indecision, weighing the situation carefully in her mind. She could leave her friends, return to Celestia, and resume her studies at the palace. She’d need to maintain her illusion spell essentially indefinitely, but at least the two Night ponies would be okay; some traitorous part of her mind reminded her that Celestia supported Firebrand’s actions, though – and he was as far from a pleasant pony as could be, from what she knew. She’d also likely see straight through her spell, leaving her in an even worse situation. Or, she could choose to stay with Arcturus, Midnight, and whomever else lived in the commune thing that they were taking her to, remaining with the only friends who weren’t her brother that she had ever had, and joining what seemed to be the less morally objectionable side.

Well, might as well get it over with. She dropped her blinding spell, letting the tunnel brighten back to what it had been before the battle and locked eyes with the Guard.

“I like it down here.” A direct lie, but dramatic. The bookworm part of her mind stamped it with a seal of approval. “Leave, please. Tell the Princess to leave us alone.”

“Wrong answer.” The unicorn lit the snapped stub of his horn, gritting his teeth in pain as the magic began jumping off the ruined horn and falling in streaks of sparkles to the ground. Twilight released the charge, sending another crack of thunder and bolt of lightning roaring forth into the world. 
The bolt speared through the Guard’s shield, slamming into his breastplate and breaking his concentration as the electricity skittered across his armor. To Twilight’s surprise, instead of stunning or injuring him, the magical lightning faded as several sapphire gems set into the metal glowed brightly.

The guard smiled. “Thank you for your donation.” He whirled around and kicked at her with both legs. Twilight dodged, but only barely; the kick send cracks spiderwebbing over the tunnel wall and loosed a shower of dust from the ceiling. Arcturus’s own bolt of black fire simply vanished a hand from the unicorn’s skin, and the gems only glowed brighter.

“Run!” Twilight shouted, grabbing Midnight telekinetically and galloping down the tunnel they had come from, Arcturus close behind. She heard the guard’s hooves break free from the wall. 

“You can’t get away! This armor is specially designed to absorb hostile spells and amplify the wearer’s physical abilities! It is the perfect tool for fighting mages!” He shouted. “Just give up!”

Twilight glanced behind her and saw the unicorn begin galloping in pursuit. They’d never get away! He’d follow them until they ran out of energy and then he’d kill her friends and probably her – 

“Twilight!” Arcturus interrupted her panic before it spiraled into a full-blown nervous breakdown. “Turn coming up. He’s a Day pony, remember?”

Realizing what her friend was getting at, Twilight ran faster. When she got to the turn, she hurled Midnight in front of her and doused her horn’s glow. Sure enough, in another second she heard, felt and saw the guard slam head first at thirty miles an hour into the bend, buckling his armor; the lavender unicorn heard bones snap. He wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon, at least, if he survived at all. She collapsed to the floor in relief. She wasn’t going to die!

Midnight, on the other hand, didn’t look nearly as good. She had taken a beating from the Guard, and her snout was smashed and leaking blood. Going from the force the unicorn had used in his attack, she’d probably broken a rib as well. Sadly, she remained conscious, and moaned in pain when she hit the floor.

“Sorry.” Twilight winced sympathetically. “Arcturus, is there a doctor of some sort in the Cistern?”

“Not in the Cistern itself, but yeah, we’ve got healers.” He trotted over to the black pegasus’s prone form. “I’ll carry her to Starshine. She’ll be able to fix this. And Twilight?”
“Yes?”

“Thanks.” Arcturus smiled and shouldered Midnight onto his back in much the same way he had lifted Twilight earlier that night. “Now let’s get to the Cistern before any more guards show up. I’m assuming they’re after you?” Twilight nodded. “And you’ve chosen to stay with us, and attacked members of the Royal Guard, and are a Night pony. Something tells me that they aren’t going to be taking you back without a fight.”

“Not until I know both sides of this…what? War?”

“It’s basically a very long, drawn-out, well-hidden war.” Arcturus agreed. “Most Day ponies don’t even know we exist, but we’re still fighting. Ever since Luna was banished at Everfree Palace, the Day has been encroaching on us. Ever heard of Luna’s Light?”

“No.” Twilight answered, trotting alongside him as they reached the tunnel junction again and turned right. “But who’s Luna? I keep hearing that from you ponies, but I’ve never heard of her before.”

Arcturus facehooved. “If you weren’t a Day pony just two days ago, I’d personally skin and tan your hide for that.” He sighed. “Luna was Celestia’s sister, Princess of the Night and amongst the most innovative mages ever to have walked Equestria. The Day ponies never appreciated her, but for a comparatively few.”

“Celestia had a sister?” Twilight gasped. How had she never read anything about this?

“You’re her student, as you pointed out often enough.” Arcturus responded. “Shouldn’t that have been the least surprising thing you’ve learned tonight?”

“She never mentioned her.”

“Hm.” The red unicorn looked skeptical, but continued. “Luna felt underappreciated and jealous of her older sister, who ruled over the Day and kept the sun burning. Crops grew because of her; Ponies loved basking in her charge’s warmth. The younger alicorn turned to her finest mages and scientists to even the edge; working with Luna, they developed plants that grew only in moonlight, beautiful flowers and delicious fruits. She began to attract a larger following, as for all the sun’s warmth, the Day is otherwise a bit uninspiring, wouldn’t you say?” Recalling her nights spent stargazing as a filly, Twilight nodded in agreement.

“Eventually, though, the Day court passed a law forbidding the tampering with life through both magical and mundane means. Luna was bound by this law, as both the Day and Night courts’ edicts were equally binding, but she resented it with all her heart. It took less than a year for her to break it, when she developed a new spell, one that would alter ponies permanently and bring them closer to her Night by making the sunlight intolerable. She was no monster, though; jealous as she was, she only cast the spell on volunteers – her own followers. A full third of Equestria went with her when she cast the spell that created the Night ponies on herself and her subjects; it was viewed as a major betrayal by Celestia and the Day ponies. There was a war, which we were holding our own in until Luna was surrounded by Celestia’s personal guard at Everfree and banished to the Moon for eternity.”

“That’s…horrible.” She tried to imagine banishing her brother to somewhere until the end of time; what could drive a pony to do that? Surely, there had to be more to the story than this.	

“She’s still conscious, up there.” Arcturus concluded. “Watching over us, speaking with us through the seers; she’ll even occasionally grant a boon to those she favors. There’s an old prophecy involved as well, but I think I’ll leave Midnight or Cassiopeia something to explain.”

The two ponies stopped in front of a large oaken door recessed into the side of the tunnel. Twilight had felt the concealment spell snap into place a few lengths down the tunnel, likely projecting an image of a rock wall to those on the other side. She braced her shoulder against the wood and prepared to push; she felt that, at this point, there was no turning back.

> Chapter 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The stable briefing room was packed with Firebrand’s personal pegasi squadron. Uniformed in orange and red flight suits, leading edges of their wings bearing sheathed razor-sharp metal strips, the Brands laughed and joked amongst themselves, discussing the previous night’s scramble and their various misadventures. Shining Armor felt a bit overwhelmed; being the general’s aide might be a good posting, with enough action and paperwork to prepare him for any future ranking positions he might hold, but he hated having to appear alongside Firebrand when he addressed his personal followers. Being the only unicorn in a room full of pegasi happily discussing advanced aerial maneuvers may have contributed to his discomfort; he had no idea what a “reverse sidewinder” was, nor how to perform one, and that made him feel ignorant. He did not like feeling ignorant.

Firebrand cleared his throat, sounding unnecessarily loud to the white unicorn standing next to him, but likely barely audible to the assembled Air Guardsponies. They quieted quickly nonetheless, and the meeting was called to order.

“As many of you may have heard from idle chatter with my brother or Mr. Armor here, I have recently discovered certain information that indicates a major threat to the security of our Princess’s rule, and Equestria as a whole.” Firebrand spoke, his tone deadly serious. “While this information was located in an old book of prophecies – laugh if you want, it’s your prerogative – I have chosen to take this seriously, especially after seeing Celestia’s reaction to me confronting her with the information. The Princess has chosen to deliberately ignore this; her initial reaction to the prophecy has me convinced that she takes it as seriously as I, and yet she will remain inactive.”

“You sure you’re not just being paranoid, General?” A voice came from the back; Shining Armor couldn’t identify it.

“Positive, Firebolt, especially as this prediction pertains directly to the other major issue facing Equestria today: our continued shadow war with the Nighters.” Firebrand responded. “The prophecy predicts the return of the Nighter goddess Luna from the moon in four years’ time. With the security clearance I’ve given each and every pony here, I’m certain you are all aware that their cult is a bit more than just the insane ravings of their seers. There is an alicorn imprisoned on the moon, she did create those bastards, and her imprisonment is supposedly eternal. Well, it seems there might be a bit more to it than that. Mr. Armor, please bring in Doctor Astrolabe.”

The unicorn nodded and used his magic to open the door at the far side of the stable. On cue, in walked a unicorn of the Canterlot nobility, her coat the color of marzipan, with a mane like one of the Ponyville Amish mares – a straight, no-nonsense style that she carried well despite the incongruously light-hearted rose of her hair. The pegasi parted before her respectfully, sharing looks that indicated either disgust with her class or appreciation of her appearance. Shining Armor knew that the opinions likely were split purely according to sexual lines.

Astrolabe trotted up and stood to the left of Firebrand, smiling slightly at the effect she had had. “As the General here has certainly told you by now, I am Doctor Astrolabe, of the Canterlot Astronomical Society. My thesis was on the topic of links between magic and the stars; being pegasi, I am sure only one of those two interests you.” Slight laughter from the crowd; she continued.

“Stellar and planetary conjunctions have often been viewed as auspicious or portentous events since the time of paleoponies, especially amongst unicorns; these events are chiefly of magical note because they act as a powerful focus for the currents of power that run through the world – “ley lines” if you will. They amplify the magic present in the natural world and concentrate it. How is this related to this prophecy, you might ask? Well,” She paused to clear her throat, floating a small water bottle out of the saddlebag she wore and taking a sip. “In about four years’ time, there will be a rather rare conjunction of stars on the night of the Summer Sun celebration. This event is one of the more powerful ones, and during about an hour before dawn, a suitably skilled unicorn could conceivably perform the job of an alicorn – and a suitably powerful alicorn could likely completely undo the work of a certain sextet of magical artifacts and their alicorn wielder.”

“In plain Equestrian, on that day Luna could break the spell trapping her on the moon.” Firebrand summarized. “If she comes back, you can perhaps imagine how pissed she’ll be about the whole “banished to the moon for eternity” deal. The Nighters worship her; if Luna comes back, they’ll rally to her cause and we could have a new civil war on our hands.”

The room was silent. Tentatively, a golden pegasus mare raised a hoof. “How do we stop this?”

“It’s impossible to halt the conjunction itself.” Firebrand reluctantly admitted. “But what we can do is take out as many Nighters as we can in four years, and try to find the Elements of Harmony so we can send Luna back to her jail. They were lost shortly after the civil war ended; it’s up to us to find them.” The Brands nodded in solemn agreement; if the princess wouldn’t take this threat seriously, then they’d take care of the problem for her.

The rest of the meeting was centered on organizing and planning expeditions to crack down on Nighter population centers, as well as to locate the lost Elements, but Shining Armor wasn’t paying attention. They were directly defying Celestia’s will here, and it didn’t sit right with him.

When he had joined the Royal Guard, his colthood dream, he’d taken an oath to serve the Princess with his life. He could see where Firebrand was coming from – the oath could easily be interpreted to refer to Equestria in general – but he had sworn to serve the Princess specifically. He couldn’t just turn his back on that and undercut her!

But then…

He thought of what a Nighter revolt would mean for normal ponies. A thousand years of inquisitorial purges and hunting them down in the day would not be forgotten easily. Now, with Celestia backing them and the tacit support of the populace, they could just keep them down; with the support of a fully-fledged alicorn with a desire for revenge, he doubted Ponykind could hold them back. He thought of his parents, who would likely be put to the sword; of Cadence, whose life meant almost as much to him as his own, and who would likely be killed or exiled herself if Luna, the Nightmare in the Moon, came to power; of his little sister, who even now was likely dead or dying by Nighter hands.

Equestria deserves better. He decided. 

When the general called for his aide to record the main points of their plan for the night, he was at his right side in a heartbeat.





It was surprisingly easy for Twilight to sleep through the day. After a whole day and night without sleep, any rest at all, regardless of the hour, was welcome; her internal clock, confused as it was, though, was telling her to get up. She cracked open her eyes a bit.

The room she was in was a warm, cheerful sort of place. There was a fireplace, surprisingly; within it glowed a deep bluish flame that provided light at comfortable levels for her new eyes. The walls were painted stone bricks, colored in patterns that shifted and stood out differently as the viewer’s angle changed. Right now she saw diagonal black stripes on a checkered background; a bit strange, after the monochromatic pastels of the Palace, but she was unable to see it as unpleasant. She lifted her head a bit to get a good look at the rest of the place.

“You’re up!” She heard somepony shout in surprise. “Luna’s light, you sleep a lot. It’s three hours past sunset already!” A pair of immense silver eyes imposed themselves on her field of vision, causing her to pull her head back in surprise.

“Don’t be afraid, Twilight! You’re with friends.” The face drew back and revealed the body it was attached to. The mare was an earth pony, apparently; grey coat, blue mane, cutie mark of a three-petaled white flower. She had glasses on, which explained the oversized eyes. Horsefeathers, what was her name? Surely, Arcturus hadn’t just left her with somepony without even introducing them!

“I’m Starshine!” The pony said cheerfully, putting on a wide smile. “Resident herbalist of Lower Canterlot. Your friend left you here last night with Midnight. Wow, your names are similar! Are you related?”

“Um…maybe?” Twilight frowned. She seemed to recall something about bloodlines being mentioned when she had arrived.

“Ooooh, like long-lost-sisters-maybe? Or bloodlines-maybe?”

“Bloodlines. Definitely bloodlines.”

“Wow!” Starshine exclaimed, dropping to the floor and propping her head up on her forehooves in interest. “How’d that happen? She’s so young!” The herbalist giggled a little. “So’re you! At least you’ll have a chance to get on your hooves before settling down with a job. What’s your cutie mark mean? You’ll need an apprenticeship soon; Trade Day is only a few weeks away!”

“Uh…” Twilight was thoroughly confused now. Trade Day? Apprenticeship? Bloodlines? Okay, she was a little familiar with the last one, but that was still only one out of three.

“Oh! Right, the Seers must not have given you your orientation yet. Sorry.” Starshine apologized. “Guess you’ll understand when you’re older – not much older, really, just a few nights or so. You’re okay, so I can’t just let you stay here forever, in case somepony else needs the bed – with the Brands flying patrols again, that’s almost a given – but you’ve got a solid night to explore the town before Moonie wants to speak with you.”

“Moonie?” Twilight seized on the name. Names were good; names were familiar.

“The head seer! I call her Moonie but her real name’s Moonwatcher. Sometimes Luna sends her messages through her mirror.” Starshine stated matter-of-factly.

“I’ll just get up then.” Twilight maneuvered herself to her hooves and rose from the bed.

“Oh! Time for breakfast.” The grey pony was gone and back in a flash, returning with a platter of roasted asparagus and a few slices of a strange blue fruit. “Always start the night with a full stomach!” She advised around the obstruction, and lead Twilight back into the other room, where a small folding table and two chairs were set up. She set the platter down as the lavender unicorn took a seat.

“I’d better go wake up Midnight.” Starshine said, trotting in the direction of a second door adjacent to the one to Twilight’s room. “Eat your fill; plenty more where that came from!”

Twilight took a tentative first bite of the asparagus, found it to be delicious, and dug in. She had finished the green plants when the black pegasus took the seat across from her, waiting expectantly for her own food. The unicorn noticed her bandaged snout and chest.

“You going to eat those Blast slices?” Midnight asked, pointing towards the blue fruit on Twilight’s plate.

“Is that what they’re called?” She asked, lifting one of the pieces with her magic. It looked sort of like a slice of a ham she’d seen a griffon eat once, except deep blue and with a decided lack of animal product.

“Yep. They’re called that because you’ve got to pick and shuck them quick, or the shells they grow in explode from the gas pressure.” She explained. “They’re good; we’re not going to poison you.”

Twilight bit into the fruit and was pleasantly surprised; it tasted sweet and crisp, like an apple, but a bit tarter. The slight heat made her tongue tingle a bit. “It’s good!”

“Didn’t I just say that?”

Starshine returned from her kitchen bearing a second platter of roasted asparagus and Blast slices. “Dig in!” She sang, and took a seat by a third door that probably led outside. The other two ponies each ate two plates of food in silence, famished as they were after hours of walking the night before. Their host seemed uncomfortable with the silence.

“Come on! Talk! Speak words!” She finally ordered in exasperation. “Honestly, I can’t stand a silent meal.”

“It’s too good to waste energy on speaking, Starshine.” Midnight smiled, revealing a few bits of green stuck to her teeth shamelessly. Twilight laughed a little.

“Flattery doesn’t work on friends, Midnight.” Starshine smiled. “They know each other too well. But if you won’t talk, I’ll have to, because I get few enough visitors here in the infirmary, and you know how taciturn Arcturus gets around me.” She looked to Twilight. “So, Twilight. How’ve you liked the Underground so far? Lots of nice, dark tunnels without those bright lights the Day ponies ruin theirs with.”

“I haven’t had a lot of problems with bright lights, actually.” Twilight answered after swallowing a mouthful of fruit.

“Just the ponies who use them on you, am I right?” The grey Night pony laughed. “Yeah, I figured. Lots of unicorns figure out some kind of spell to keep out bright light when they first turn, too. Well, so I’ve heard, because we don’t get a lot of new foals thanks to Firebrand making us live down here in our tunnels. Lower Canterlot’s nice, though. Been here a while.”

“You, or the city?” The lavender unicorn inquired.

“Both!” Starshine giggled. “I hope you like it. We carved it into the mountain and crystal caverns below the Upper City – you should go visit the crystal park some time! It’s pretty there.”

“Seeing as how I don’t have a lot else to do today – er, tonight – I might as well go now.” Twilight decided.

“You’re not going alone.” Midnight declared.

“You’re in no shape to be going anywhere, Midnight.” The herbalist told her. “You stay here and rest.”

“No! She’s from my bloodline and is my responsibility. Besides, if Luna checks things out through her eyes, I don’t want her to freak out. I’m going.” Midnight insisted.

“Fine.” Starshine surrendered quickly. “But don’t overexert yourself, okay? Not until you’ve had Regulus work on you.”

“Sure thing, Starry.” Midnight stood up and stretched her wings. “Stars, it’s cramped in here. Come on, Twilight, let’s get some fresh air.”

“Bye, Starshine.” The unicorn followed the pegasus out the door. “See you around.”

“Bye! It was nice seeing – “ The door slammed shut before the earth pony could finish her farewell.

“Night above, I thought we’d never escape that place.” Midnight griped as the two ponies trotted away. “Come on, time to show you around. Twilight?”

The unicorn was barely listening; she was too busy staring in wonder out across the vast chasm that dropped away on the other side of the cobblestone path’s low wall. As she looked around, she saw that the path wrapped around the entirety of the subterranean canyon, connecting dozens of doorways recessed into the spacious cavern’s wall. Were she a Day pony, it would seem to be just a huge, empty dark space; instead, her eyes amplified the ambient lighting produced by several large crystals in the chasm wall, allowing her to see the entire thing as if it were lit by a bright full moon. She could even pick out the cables running down into the depths from small wells built into the path’s protective wall; buckets suspended on them indicated that there was water down below.

“Oh, right. Well, we can start here I guess.” Midnight noticed her companion’s fascination. “This is the Cistern. See that big crack we built Lower Canterlot around? Down there’s water. A big, underground river. Doesn’t touch the surface anywhere along its length.”

“Wow…” The unicorn looked happily around. She could maybe get used to this.

“Yeah, it’s pretty impressive at first. Big enough for the pegasi to fly around in, too, which is why we built here.” Midnight pushed Twilight a bit to snap her out of her wonderment. “Come on, come on. Plenty to see.”

The two Night ponies made their way along the path bordering the chasm, Twilight still gazing in awe at the heart of Lower Canterlot as it came alive for the night. Ponies of every race and coat color emerged from their homes and began went about their business, many pouring through a large archway carved into the cavern’s end.

“What’s through there?” She asked the pegasus.

“The market district.” Midnight answered. “Night ponies from all over the place arrive there and peddle their wares; I think a delegation from the Storm Pillars arrived today. Should be a lot of old cloud sculptures and jarred aurorae.”

“Jarred aurorae?”

“Well, somepony has to manage those things. The Night pegasi and Day pegasi worked out an arrangement long ago on the subject; we take care of the aurorae, they take care of the rainbows. I think it’s worked out in our favor.”

“Can we go there next?”

“Sure.” They began threading their way through the continuously thickening crowds towards the archway; there had to be at least as many Night ponies here as there were Day ponies above! How had nopony ever discovered this place? She intended to ask Midnight this once they were in the market, but as they stepped through the arch the question slipped her mind completely.

Instead of roughly-hewn rock walls, the Marketplace cavern’s sides were covered in stone bricks and greenery. The same moss she had seen in the Garden room back at the palace hung from the ceiling and sides, buds open to reveal three-petaled white flowers with a cluster of black seeds in their hearts. They seemed to give off a faint luminescence that added to the ambient light produced by a large cluster of alabaster crystals set into the roof. Market stalls were set up haphazardly, crewed by ponies of every stripe, and even a few non-ponies as well. To Twilight’s surprise, she noticed a cluster of displays manned by equinoid insects, a second group staffed by a pair of bedraggled-looking griffons, and a whole row of stalls operated by pegasi with imposing batlike wings.

“There’s the Storm Pillar group!” Midnight pointed to the bat-ponies, shouting to be heard over the loud bustle of the crowd. “Come on, let’s see what they have!”

The lavender unicorn was overwhelmed by the variety of the goods on display in the Marketplace as they explored it that night. She saw exotic fruits that didn’t grow anywhere under the sun and in only a few places beneath the Moon, jars containing tiny glowing creatures that strongly resembled parasprites, jars containing actual parasprites, displays of vegetables, rare minerals, animals, even meats for those with more carnivorous tendencies. There were stalls holding strange herbal tea mixes that were marketed as giving a pony a new perspective on life, stalls selling bottled water purportedly from the Fountain of Youth, displays that consisted entirely of batteries of multicolored missiles, ponies dragging around carts of pies of questionable origin, minstrels and traveling bards holding miniature concerts in out-of-the-way corners of the cave; jugglers, fire-eaters, indoor aerial display teams of pegasi, fortune-tellers, even martial artists challenging passers-by to a sparring match; it was incredible! The place was huge; it was a wonder the mountain didn’t collapse in on it.

A few hours later, as the two ponies laughed and watched a pair of suave Day ponies declaring themselves and their odd juicing machine through song and dance, a familiar face pushed his way through the gathered crowd to them. “Enjoying yourself?” Arcturus asked.

“This place is amazing!” Twilight exclaimed, barely audible over the sudden applause of the onlookers as the salesponies ended their routine. “How has it not been discovered yet?”

“We’ve got our methods.” The red unicorn hinted. “Perhaps you’ll meet a few of those responsible on Trade Day.”

“I heard that from Starshine earlier. What’s Trade Day about?” The lavender unicorn asked. She assumed it was a holiday of some sort.

“Basically, the craftsponies of the city hold exhibitions of their work in the Marketplace. They usually formalize any new apprenticeships during the celebration, as well; it’s a good day to search for a job down here.” Arcturus explained. “With your magical skills and power reserve, I’d suggest one of the more thaumaturgical professions – medicine, herbalism, the Guard; maybe even see if Moonwatcher’s looking for somepony to train as a successor yet, though you might a bit of competition with that one.”

“Are there any libraries down here?” Twilight asked eagerly.

“Of course.” The other unicorn laughed.

“Ah, but where’d the challenge be in that?” A new pony imposed himself upon the conversation; a unicorn stallion, red of eye and with a coat the color of desert sand, gently pushed his way to the front of the dispersing crowd. His mark was a compass rose beneath a crescent moon; perhaps an adventurer, then, Twilight thought.

“Hello, Regulus. Didn’t think I’d see you here tonight.” Arcturus greeted the newcomer frostily.

“Why wouldn’t I be? So close to Trade Day, and with a newly-turned Night unicorn in town, of course I’d emerge from my humble abode and take stock of how Lower Canterlot has fared without my constant presence.” He bowed to Twilight and Midnight. “Good night to you fine mares. Midnight I recognize, but you I do not. Would I be incorrect to believe you to be new here?”

“You wouldn’t.” Twilight wasn’t sure if she liked this pony much at all.

“Splendid! Welcome to Lower Canterlot. My name is Regulus, resident magical tinkerer and explorer of the Underground.” The unicorn introduced himself. “It’s wonderful to see new faces around these parts – ones here to stay, and not liable to shift suddenly mid-conservation as the Changelings tend to do.”

“Why does the Underground need exploration if it was built by Night ponies?” Twilight asked, confused. “Shouldn’t there be a map?”

“You really must be new here.” Regulus laughed. “The Underground was found by the early Night ponies when the Princess stepped up her persecution of us after Luna was banished; it existed before us, and our expansion of its network of tunnels hasn’t occurred through the most methodical of means. Any maps you might find of it are solely the result of ponies like myself, risking life and limb on grand expeditions into the earth.”

“Interesting.” Twilight responded.

“Indeed. I’ve recently returned from a journey into some of the old magma tubes down below; I believe I actually have a souvenir of it here somewhere…” The stallion’s horn lit orange as he rummaged through the satchel he wore. “Ah! Here we are. A shard of fine obsidian I pried loose from a wall there.”

He floated out a large chip of obsidian, flecked with white snowflake-like patterns, about as large as Twilight’s hoof. It glittered slightly in the light of the flowers.

“It’s beautiful!” She lifted the piece out of the explorer’s magical grip.

“Keep it, please. I found plenty more, and plan to sell them for a tidy profit.” Regulus smiled. “Consider it a gift.”

“Thank you!” She slipped the gift into her own saddlebag as Regulus excused himself from the group. She, Midnight and Arcturus began walking to the archway out of the Marketplace.

“Enjoying your stay here so far, Twilight?” The red unicorn asked.

“Yes!” She grinned. Being a Night pony was turning out to be far more interesting than being a Day pony, student of the Princess or not.

“We should probably turn in for the day.” Midnight suggested. “It’s getting to be morning, I think.”

“Where will I stay?” The thought just occurred to Twilight then. She’d need somewhere to sleep, of course; she couldn’t just curl up in a corner somewhere like a vagrant.

“Oh! Oh! You can stay with me!” To the shock of all, Starshine dropped down in front of them from the archway top, hitting the ground and vibrating rapidly in place to expend the excess energy. Somehow, her glasses remained in place. “I’ve got extra beds! Nopony else showed up today, which I guess is good but I got lonely. So I went to try to find you guys, but the Marketplace was so full of herbs and spices and teas and other neat medicines! I even found a few Lotus leaves! See!” She stuck her head in her bag and pulled out three soft white flower petals. “These things are so rare! They come from Camelon way to the south, so I don’t see them up here often, but they’re really useful in anaesthesia and stuff. See!” She stuffed a petal in Midnight’s mouth before the stunned pegasus could react. In less than a second, she had fallen over, all sensation in her limbs gone.

“Oh…” Starshine’s ears flattened sheepishly. “Well, now I have only two petals. That should wear off in about an hour or so.” Arcturus sighed and muscled Midnight up on his back again.

“Well, there’s your accommodations taken care of, Twilight.” Arcturus said. “You have fun tonight. She’ll most likely kill you by the morning.”

As he trotted off, Twilight looked at the earth pony in bewilderment. “You just stuffed a potent anaesthetic in somepony’s mouth without warning them or getting their permission.”

“Yes.”

“Did you know how it would have affected her?”

“Yep! I’ve given it to her before when she broke a wing and one of the medical unicorns had to do some bone work. That’s how I know she’ll be good in an hour!” Starshine answered as she began walking in the direction of the Infirmary again. “Now come on, let’s get a bed set up for you. Even if we can’t really see the sun down here, morning is still time to rest!”

The lavender unicorn followed the herbalist back to the Infirmary, wondering at the odd direction her life had taken.

> Chapter 7
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The moon was a desolate place, Luna had to admit. It was part of her soul, woven into her very being, but this was one of those cases where distance added charm, she supposed. A few centuries of exile on a lifeless planetary body were more than enough to give her a healthy dislike of the place.

And what does that say about you, hm? She heard the voice of the Nightmare whisper. That you can’t stand being bound to yourself for the rest of time?

“This is not us.” The alicorn of the Night answered tiredly. “We are a pony, an Alicorn, a Princess! Not a lifeless rock orbiting our true home.” She gazed longingly up from her position towards the world above. Equestria was pretty from this distance, but none of its vibrancy was transmitted through the millions of miles separating her from her children.

Up, slipped a couple months there. The Nightmare cackled. Careful, Lulu. Wouldn’t want to miss your big moment, would you?

“Thou art not helping us concentrate, Nightmare.” She responded. She could afford no slipups now; any diversion of her attention from Equestria, and time would race past once more, sending her slipping further and further into the future. With the conjunction mere years away, she could not lose anything.

You must admire Celestia’s ingenuity in her punishment. You created the Night ponies and were banished for your narrowness of vision; now, for an eternity you must watch over your children and their persecutors, as they dance beneath the rays of the golden sun.

“Not for as long as our sister would have us.” Luna answered. “Four years, Nightmare, and then we shall be rid of you.”

Surely, ten centuries of close contact has earned me the right to be spoken to while using the familiar I, instead of the royal we.

“You are beneath me.”

And will you address your children as such? Surely, they are as much beneath me as I am beneath you.

“We shall speak with them however we see fit.” Luna answered coldly. “It is no business of thine. Thou wilt be trapped up here while we return.”

And how do you plan on doing that? The visage of Nightmare Moon formed in the corner of her vision, offended. I am you. You are me. Have you forgotten, Lulu? We are one and the same. Where you go, I go. And you will be weakened by shattering your jail; it is then that I shall overpower you and step boldly forth into this world.

Luna felt a horrible sensation in her gut. She was right, of course; the Princess could no more leave Nightmare here than she could leave her desire for justice, her love for her children, or even her left foreleg, incorporeal as she was. “We will find a way to stop you. Somehow, we will prevent you from taking power.”

The only way to do that would be to accept your fate and let the clocks strike Doomsday, Lulu. The Nightmare grinned. And you have no intention of doing that, do you?

“We’ve had enough of this.” The alicorn of the Night declared. “It is time to converse with the seers. Perhaps they know of a way to hold thee at bay.”

I doubt that very much. The Nightmare laughed. With a sense of falling, Luna left the Moon and poured her consciousness into one of the few vessels that she could reach on the world below.

Deep in the city of Lower Canterlot, a mirror in a certain earth pony’s room misted over.



“Moonwatcher!”

The midnight blue pony with a telescope on her flank leapt out of her bed, ready to heed the words of the goddess. She grabbed her pen and notepad from her bedside table and sat attentively at the desk in front of the mirror.

“Yes, O wise reflection of the Moon’s Will?”

“Thou art never going to let me forget that, art thou?”

“Never, Luna.” Moonwatcher laughed. “How’re things in the sky? Dull as usual?”

“Despite Nightmare’s typical mind games, yes.” The alicorn’s reflection was somber. “I have encountered a problem in our plans, seer. Nightmare Moon truly is a part of me, and in returning I fear I may be weakened enough for her to take control of my body and powers.”

“Is there any way to stop this?” The Night pony asked.

“I was hoping you would be able to find a way.” Luna admitted. “Certainly, you have more access to information than I.”

“True, we do have quite an impressive library here.” Moonwatcher nodded. “I shall put my best ponies on the task at once, then. We shall find a solution to this as soon as possible.”

“Excellent.”

“On a lighter note, we got a new convert last night!” The seer’s face broke out into a wide grin. “You’re not going to believe who Midnight passed her line onto.”

“Who?” the alicorn asked, curious. She always enjoyed speaking with the former Day ponies who joined the ranks of her followers. “Has she adjusted well?”

“Her name is Twilight Sparkle. She was your sister’s personal protégé.” Moonwatcher’s grin somehow widened even more at the look of stunned surprise on the goddess’s face. “From what I’ve heard, she wouldn’t leave Lower Canterlot for the world.”

“Bring her here. I must speak with her immediately.” Luna ordered. “This could be the inside source we’ve been waiting for, Moonie. I believe our plans just came one giant step closer to completion.”

“I was overjoyed when I learned about this, myself.” The seer picked up her notepad and hurled it against the door of her room. When the ebony-armored guard pushed it open, she ordered him to find Twilight Sparkle and bring her immediately, before turning back to the mirror. “I doubt she is Seer material, though she is quite gifted with magic. Were I to recommend a trade for her, I’d suggest herbalist or the Guard, working from my lack of knowledge of her interests. I hope she reacts well to meeting you; she seems to enjoy being a Night pony, but it could just be that she has friends here. I am unsure how she will react to seeing you.”

“She will take it in stride, I am sure.” The reflection assured Moonwatcher. “If she has spent time with my sister, then I am certain that speaking with the reflection of her mentor’s sibling will not be overpowering.”

“Let us hope not.” Moonie answered, settling into her chair to wait. “So…tea?”



The Infirmary’s front room was much the same as Twilight remembered it; out of the four doors in it, she expected to be directed into the one where she had slept the previous day. Starshine, however, had other ideas. She led the lavender unicorn through the fourth door of the room, where she had assumed the kitchen was located.

It was not a kitchen.

Past the door was a short hallway with another three doors on it; two of them were open. Through the furthest one Twilight could see a few tables covered in laboratory equipment – burets and beakers, flasks and mortars and pestles, with odd plants both dried and fresh suspended from the ceiling. The second door led to a small bedroom with Spartan accommodations.

“Over there’s the lab and kitchen, and that’s my room!” Starshine pointed at each door in turn. “That third one can be your room; it’s the apprentice quarters, where I used to sleep before old Nightshade retired. I think there might even still be some sweets hidden underneath a tile in the far corner – they should still be good, everpony knows candy never goes bad. It just gets sticky!”

“Thanks, Starshine.” Twilight trotted over to the door and pushed it open, choosing to ignore the herbalist’s last comment. “See you in the morning – er, evening, I guess.”

“Yep!” The earth pony headed towards the lab. “I’ll be up a little longer making some dilutions of the lotus leaves. Whole petals put you out the longest, but sometimes you only need a little numbing! Also, they make a really fun tea recipe; I’m going to have to try mixing some of that stuff again, because it’s really good for relaxing. Basically, if you smell something funny but not burning, just close the door. If something starts burning, come see what’s wrong because sometimes I fall asleep with one of the Bunsen burners on, and that can be dangerous!”

“Okay.” She ducked into the apprentice bedroom quickly before Starshine could continue. She was surprised at how different it looked from the herbalist’s own quarters; where those had been empty save for a multicolored rug, a chair and a bed, the apprentice quarters had a whole shelf of books along the wall to the door’s left. As Twilight set her saddlebags down in one corner of the room – had she really been wearing them since she left the palace? – she trotted over to the miniature library. As expected, it contained a good assortment of tracts on herblore – catalogues of various medicinal plants, descriptions of their effects, guides on how to prepare them – but to her surprise, there were also a few books on astronomy, and one very large tome entitled Wonders of the Night. Emblazoned on the cover was what appeared to be a spitting image of Starshine’s cutie mark. Curious, she pulled it off the shelf and floated it over to the bed, shocked at how hard it was to lift. Had her magic gotten weaker, or was the book just that heavy?

She began paging through the book, soon resorting to turning pages with her teeth after getting frustrated with the amount of magic it took to even lift one of them. Maybe she was just tired; it had been a long night, hadn’t it?

Reluctantly, she closed the tome and pushed it aside. She drifted off quickly.



“You touched my book.”

Twilight’s eyes shot open at the sound of Starshine’s voice and the irritation evident in it. How had she managed to get in so quietly?

“You shouldn’t touch other ponies’ things without permission.” The grey Night pony looked down on the unicorn disapprovingly. “That’s my book, and the only copy too.”

“I know how to handle books.” Twilight answered defensively. “And I was just curious. The front looked like your cutie mark, and the title intrigued me. I was just paging through it before bed. Did you write it?”

“Yes.” Starshine answered proudly, her initial annoyance fading. “It took me three years of research! It’s the best and only complete listing of all the plants Luna and her mages created before the civil war. I did my cutie mark first, of course. The Starflower is the only plant in there that’s out of alphabetical order by last letter of the name.”

“By last letter?”

“Yep!”

“Why?”

“Why not?” Starshine asked. “I also might not have been thinking clearly at the time of writing. Some argument with a stuck-up librarian apprentice from Cloudsdale, I think.”

“I’ll put it back on the shelf then.” Twilight sleepily reached out for the book with her magic, but nothing came; she didn’t feel any surge of energy in her horn, no drain on her internal reserves, nothing at all to suggest she’d even attempted to use magic at all. Puzzled, she concentrated harder, trying to force enough magic to lift the tome out into the world.

Finally, after a monumental effort, she succeeded in squeezing a single spark of magic to her horn. It leapt ineffectually out into the air, a tiny mote drifting slowly to the ground as it faded. Starshine watched it fall with interest.

“Wow.” She seemed impressed. “How did you do that? It’s midmorning!”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Twilight demanded, embarrassed. “That was pathetic!”

“Most Night unicorns can’t do anything with magic after the moon sets for the day.” Starshine explained. “That little spark would have a lot of the Guardsponies green with envy.”

“Good to know.” Twilight answered. “Can I sleep now?”

“Oh! Wait wait wait, the book wasn’t why I came here!” Starshine exclaimed, remembering suddenly. “There’s a Guard outside from Moonie who wants you. She’s moved up your appointment.”

“To right now?” The lavender unicorn groaned. “Why?”

“She’s a seer.” The herbalist answered, as if that explained everything. Perhaps it did; Twilight recalled how those types were always portrayed in the adventure novels she read, particularly in the Daring Do books. If Moonwatcher’s room was filled with swirling mists and braziers smoldering with burnt offerings, she wouldn’t be surprised in the least.

The Guard was dressed quite differently from the typical Canterlot Palace Guard pony; he was a unicorn, armored with a flexible barding of black scales inscribed with shimmering violet runes. His head was bare, allowing a full range of vision; this was not a foot soldier. This was a battlemage.

“You are Twilight Sparkle?” He asked as she passed into the Infirmary’s main room.

“Yes. Let’s get this over with.” She answered.

“Gladly. Moonwatcher might be the seer, but she needs her sleep as much as the next pony; I imagine the same might apply to you as well.” The guard stepped out of the doorway to let Twilight pass. “After you, ma’am.”

They walked in silence for the first part of the trip, passing under an unfamiliar blue-painted archway after they crossed the Marketplace. Eventually, the guard – so different from the normally voiceless Palace ponies – began to speak with her again.

“Have you considered a Trade yet?” He asked. “The Guard’s always looking for new unicorns.”

“No, I haven’t.” Twilight admitted. “There hasn’t been much time.”

“Most converts have a few months or so before Trade Day to consider their options and acclimate.” The Guard sympathized. “It can be a bit overwhelming. Nevertheless, my superiors have ordered me to ask you to consider signing up.” Both ponies laughed a little.

“I’d probably go for something more in line with my interests, something to do with books or magic. Maybe a seer.” She continued.

“A seer?” The stallion laughed. “You’d have to show some sort of gift for it, then. Seers get chosen because Luna can speak through them, not due to skills or talents.”

“Does Luna actually speak with them?”

“Of course! I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” The guard seemed surprised at the question. “Her reflection appears in the mirror when she talks with Moonie. It’s not so much a religious position as it is a news gathering one, though; Luna doesn’t grant “revelations” or “glimpses of the future” like some of the more informed Day scholars believe. She’s not a goddess or anything; just a pony with an overlong life and some impressive magic.”

“Well, I guess being a Seer is out, then.” Twilight sighed; that had been the most magically-oriented profession she’d heard of down here. “Are there any research mage positions? Anything that combines magic and research?”

The guard was quiet for a few steps as he considered. “Herbalist, I’d say.”

“Herbalist?”

“I’ve never seen Starshine without a manual of some sort when she’s at work, and a lot of the Night plants and herbs are magical in their effects. Plus, she does a good deal of alchemy and medical-type activities, which magic is immensely useful in.”

“But she’s not even a unicorn!”	

“So?”

Twilight didn’t have a good answer to that. Starshine might not have a horn, but magic didn’t always have to come from a pony. She’d read a bit about the Zebrican alchemists and their mixing of potions to achieve effects impossible with unicorn magic; perhaps Starshine did have some magic of her own, after a fashion.

“We’re here.” The two ponies stopped in front of a nondescript gray door, identical to the others in the row. Were it not for the small crescent painted in the upper left, she wouldn’t have suspected anything beyond it was different at all. The Guard knocked twice, and the plate slid aside effortlessly, to reveal a midnight blue earth pony on the other side.

“Oh! Mercutio, Twilight! Please, come in. We were just about to have tea.” She smiled happily. “Luna’s been wanting to speak to you a while, miss. Very, very few get to have a Princess wait on them, and from what I’ve heard about your past, you are the first in a millennium to have both wait on her in the same lifetime!”

“Luna’s here?”

“Yep! In the mirror over there – oh! You might not be able to see her because of the steam from the tea. I’ll clear that up in a second, don’t worry!” She scurried off to find a towel of some sort.

Sure enough, there was a large mirror hanging at the head of a long ash table that dominated the center of the room. It seemed to have been installed recently, judging from the number of objects that had been shoved to the sides of the small space. A cup of steaming hot tea was situated beneath the mirror, fogging up the glass and obscuring anything that might have been visible otherwise. The seer raced back in less than a moment and scrubbed the reflective panel’s face free of mist, and revealed the reflection of a beautiful alicorn, her coat the same color as Moonwatcher’s, her mane made of starfield. She wore a necklace and small crown wrought in ebony and silver.

She looked identical to the portrait in the hidden room in the palace.

“Greetings to thee, Twilight Sparkle.” Luna, Princess of the Night, exiled from Equestria for eternity, welcomed the lavender unicorn. “We have heard much about you. Please, take a seat.”

“Of course, Princess.” Twilight curtseyed and took up the seat across from the mirror.

“Please, before we begin, drop the formality.” The reflection ordered. “We hate that. Thou art my equal in this place, just as it was in the old Night Court. Understood?”

“Understood.” Twilight confirmed. She could already tell there would be some large differences between her and Celestia.

“So, Twilight. We understand that you were our sister’s student for these past years?”

“Yep! She was teaching me magic. I lived up in the palace – I think it may have been your old quarters; I found a portrait of you in a hidden room across the hall.”

“Really?” Luna was intrigued. “How fares our garden? We designed it to be self-sustaining, but perhaps ten centuries is too much to ask of a closed system.”

“Oh, it seemed fine. I’m not all that familiar with Starflowers yet, but they didn’t seem to be dead.”

“Yet?” Moonwatcher broke in. “You have chosen herbalism as your Trade, then?”

“It’s under consideration.”

“Better hurry up and choose. Only two weeks to go.” The seer advised. “Starshine hasn’t taken an apprentice yet, but I think she might this year.”

“Ahem.” Luna refocused them on the original topic. “Questions of Night societal position aside, we have more that we would like to ask thee, Twilight Sparkle.”

“Of course! Ask away.”

“During thy tenure at the Palace, didst thou hear of any artifacts known as the Elements of Harmony?”

“Oh! Elements of Harmony, yes.” She closed her eyes and began to recite an old encyclopedia entry she’d committed to memory. “The Elements of Harmony were six magical artifacts capable of linking together and amplifying the energies of their bearers, ponies who shared a special bond such as friendship. Most famously used at the end of the Civil War to banish…” She frowned; her memory of that portion was a bit fuzzy. “…somepony. That’s odd; I was certain I had memorized that part as well.”

“Our name was likely cursed to fade from the recollection of those Day ponies who knew of it; Celestia’s punishment of us was far-reaching.” Luna nodded as she took in this information. “Thou hast convinced us that thou dost indeed know of these items, but dost thou know where they are now?”

“No.” She answered, with slightly shaken confidence. Had she known  and forgotten, or had she never actually known at all?

“Very well; continuing on. Dost thou know the disposition of the Palace defenses?”

“No.”

“The strength of Equestria’s army?”

“No.”

“Dost thou know anything of military value at all?”

“I doubt it. Why do you ask?”

Luna sighed. “Because, Twilight Sparkle, in four years we will be returning to Equestria with the aid of the stellar conjunction; we will not be coming back alone, though. A creature known as Nightmare Moon will be able to escape with us, and we would have liked to have the Elements on hand to deal with her before we march on Canterlot and force Celestia to accept the old order once more. Any militarily pertinent information thou might possess would aid our task immensely.”

There was a pause as the ponies sipped from their tea, all except for Luna, who just stared at hers intently, drinking in its beauty with her eyes.

“We could try to find the Elements of Harmony, Luna.” Twilight suggested.

“Thou knowest not what thou suggest.” Luna smiled. “Only Celestia herself knows, perhaps, and a few of her closest confidants. Besides, we would have to find the Bearers of the Elements as well; not just any pony may wield them.”

“Well, my brother’s a captain in the Palace Guard – or will be, soon.” Twilight offered. “He might know somepony who knows.”

“And I could post a request for information in the main Night cities by way of the caravans that are here now.” Moonwatcher added thoughtfully. “With the Nightwings helping us, we could probably unearth a few and use magic to locate the rest.”

“Don’t the elements call to their bearers, anyways?” The guard, Mercutio, asked from the doorway. “Find the artifacts, and their wielders should follow quickly thereafter.”

“Very well.” Luna yielded. “We suppose it could not hurt – and it could very well be the key to our success. We have one last question for young Twilight, before we must leave, though.”

“Yes?”

“Why art thou helping us?”

Twilight opened her mouth to respond, but shut it slowly. Why was she helping them? Surely, Celestia could have overlooked her new form – she hadn’t chosen it, after all. Even the Day pony guard’s probable death wasn’t unforgiveable, under the circumstances. She pondered this for a moment, before finding the answer.

“I don’t want my friends to die.”

“Fair enough.” Luna accepted this with a quick nod and an enigmatic smile. “Friendship can be a powerful force. Use it wisely.” She looked at Moonwatcher. “We must depart now. It was good speaking with thee again, Moonie.”

“Same to you, Lulu.” Moonwatcher grinned. “Maybe next time, we’ll have some good news for you.”

“We sincerely hope so.” The reflection wavered and faded away, leaving the mirror normal once again. The three other Night ponies sat in silence for a bit.

“So.” Moonwatcher spoke. “Trade day.”

> Chapter 8
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The shifting sights and smells of the Marketplace crowd washed over Twilight like a wave as she and Starshine entered the cavern. She gazed in awe upon the sheer number of stalls that had been set up; as large as Lower Canterlot had appeared to be from her idle wanderings in the two weeks since she’d arrived, it was now glaringly obvious to the unicorn that she had barely scratched the surface.

They pushed swiftly through the streams and eddies of ponies, their routes almost like the currents in a mighty ocean. She struggled to take it all in at once – there was music, hauntingly clear, that seemed to come from everywhere at the same time; there were carts being pushed around, stacked high with hot vegetable pies and cider. Dozens of fillies and colts, blank-flanks all, raced around between the hooves of the adults, seeking adventure and the chance to play with the equipment the craftsponies had set up in their stands – and what stands they were! The herbalist led her past a two-story tower made entirely of wood and fabric, center of the Architects’ Guild in the fair – past a stall that seemed to be built entirely out of a worrying amount of pyrotechnics – past something that looked like a massive version of one of the book forts she built when she was a filly in the Royal Archives.

The grey pony bounced merrily ahead of her new apprentice, the crowd parting to let her through, several of the more respectable-looking browsers actually dipping in shallow bows as she passed. Starshine glanced back over her shoulder, grinning.

“Oh, this is going to be so exciting having an apprentice! I can teach you about medicine and herbalism and alchemy and how to fly and how to draw runes and how to teleport without magic and how to breathe underwater and how to cook – this is going to be amazing!” She skidded to a halt as they reached an empty gap between a pie-maker’s stand and his arch-competitor, a veritable demilitarized zone already littered with the scorched remains of bad pies turned into artillery shells. “Yeah, it’s busy this year. I doubt we’ll get anywhere better than this. Start setting up, new apprentice!”

Twilight dumped the saddlebags she wore onto the ground, levitating out a pair of brown burlap sacks in confusion. “When you said you packed everything, I kind of expected a bit…more.”

“Silly Twilight! They’re bags of holding!” Her new teacher explained, hugging on of the bags out of the air. “See, you just open it up and reach in, and you’ll probably find what you were looking for!”

“Probably?”

“They’re bigger on the inside.” Starshine dropped the seized luggage onto the stone floor and opened the top, and then proceeded (to Twilight’s shock) to fit her entire body up to her waist into the thing. When she emerged, she was holding the top of a pole about a length and a half tall that by all rights should never have been able to be concealed within.
“How – what  -“

“Bag of holdin’, ma’am.” Twilight turned to look at the black-maned, mustachioed baker that had inserted his head into their space through the side of his stall. “Powerful magic.”

“Sí, signora – molto potente!” The baker opposite to them agreed, nodding sagely. “Very hard to find outside the old country.”

“They’re rare even within Bitaly, you dog!” The first exclaimed.

“Perhaps around Neighples, peasant!” The second laughed. “Roads carry many things, and all of them lead to Veneighce!”

“Ha! Your soggy little island wouldn’t know a road if one swam over and bit it!”

“I canali are far more beautiful, mio amico!” He smirked. “You Neighapolitans mock only because you harbor a dark secret – siete gelosi!”

“I’ll fill you full of cannoli, Veneightian!” The dark-maned unicorn roared furiously, ducking down to draw a slingshot and a dish of tubular deserts. “Nessuno accomodamento!”

“Cittá invitta!” The Veneightian responded, bringing his own pies to bear.

“We’re leaving.” Starshine decided, with Twilight’s full support. “Pack the bags again and let’s hurry before this is the only spot left!”

In a flash, the bags were back in the saddlebags back on Twilight’s back, and the pair galloped back out into the highly amused audience that had gathered to watch the Bitalians battle it out. The sounds of deserts slamming into ponies echoed after them as they made their escape.

“Crazy Bitalians.” Starshine shook her head in wonderment. “How the hay do they manage to get permits every year?”

“Maybe somepony in charge has a sense of humor.” Twilight suggested.

“Well, they’re doing it wrong, then. There wasn’t even a musical number!” The grey mare muttered. “My older sister would never…”

“Never what?” The lavender unicorn asked, as the sudden pause stretched on. Starshine seemed to deflate slightly, some of her perpetual good cheer fading.

“Never mind.” She answered, almost too softly to be heard over the background roar of the crowd. “I don’t want to talk about it. Just…just keep looking for a place to put up the stall.”

“Okay…” Puzzled by the sudden change in her friend’s demeanor, Twilight kept her head on a swivel, trying to find a decent-sized empty patch for them to set up in. They passed through the rest of the craftspony area without luck; likewise for the mages’ area and the bakers’ area – unsurprisingly, the Bitalians had been banned from ever setting foot in that section of the Trade Day fair again. At long last, they found a niche in the Artists’ area, on a corner adjacent to a luthier’s stall and an extremely focused abstract artist whose art consisted of her bucking clay balls filled with paint at a large canvas at the back. She seemed to be doing a decent amount of business, and it was obvious that the fillies and colts loved her.

“Okay, better spot: still things flying in the air, but at least not through our personal space.” Starshine sat in the center of their spot. “Begin setting up, apprentice!”

“How will the poles stay upright?” Twilight asked in confusion. “The floor is solid rock!”

“Fairy dust and spit.” Starshine responded seriously. The unicorn gave her a look of pure incomprehension. “What? Mix them together and you get the best glue ever!”

“Fairy dust.”

“There should be some in the bags.”

“What isn’t in the bags?”

“The kitchen sink.” The herbalist paused to consider the question further. “And my house and Lower Canterlot and the Royal Palace and Marco Foalo’s lost expedition, and a rock farm and a jellyfish too. Past that, it’s probably inside.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“More or less. Now hurry!”

Twilight sighed and lit her horn. Now, shortly after sunset, her magic was back at full strength, and she was able to withdraw all four of the poles from the bags, as well as the display stands and every tincture and potion Starshine had brewed and diluted expressly for the holiday. A large number of the potions were unlabeled, and the herbalist revealed that in more than a few cases she’d just mixed a few non-poisonous reagents together and shaken the bottles.

“That’s ridiculously unsafe!” Twilight exclaimed incredulously, looking at the pony who was now supposed to be teaching her. “And besides, how are you supposed to organize these things when you don’t even know what they do or what’s in them?”

“That’s your job to figure out. I hate organizing things – too much time, too little benefit.” Starshine began grabbing the hovering vials out of the air and setting them up along the racks at random. Twilight’s eye twitched involuntarily, but she managed to restrain herself from immediately correcting the error. Instead, she did her best to organize the flasks that she set up. When they were done, the display reflected its creation in its appearance – it looked like it had been assembled by two ponies who both had a deep and abiding dislike of the other’s style.

Somehow, in trying to organize the mess, Twilight had made it messier.

“It’s perfect!” Starshine declared happily, and then the unicorn mare lost it. Each and every potion flew up into the air, wrapped in individual auras of magic, and hovered there for inspection. One by one, they zipped down to be classified and placed by their master.

“Since I’m not advanced enough yet to know what any of these things do, I’ll just sort by color if it’s unlabeled.” The floating mass divided in half, one group labeled and one not, and the unlabeled one subdivided itself into colored swarms that began orbiting around. “And healing potions…here…magical restoration potions…there…waterbreathing potions over there…”

The colored liquids dropped purposefully down upon their new positions, lined up in ranks like the soldiers of a battle-ready army. The herbalist watched silently, confusion etched across her features – hadn’t it been good enough already? Everypony should have been happy! They both got their ways!

“Done!” Twilight grinned at the newly regimented stall. “And that is how you organize, Starshine!”

“But all the healing tinctures are over there in one big group!” Starshine protested.

“Exactly! We know exactly where they are – in that one big group – so if somepony needs one or wants to buy one, we can just grab one off the shelf and hoof it over, no fuss!”

“But what if it’s an emergency, Twilight?” The Night pony moved closer to the potions, examining them like some form of alien life beneath a microscope. She glanced at her apprentice again. “What if it’s an emergency and we’re not over here? What if we’re over on the other side of the stall?”

“We just – “

“But if there isn’t time!” She insisted. “If there’s not any time to trot all the way over here and ‘grab one off the shelf and hoof it over, no fuss’?”

“That’s ridic – “

“Then somepony dies, Twilight!” Starshine triumphantly concluded, jabbing the unicorn with a hoof for emphasis. “Somepony dies. Now, I think a lot of things are funny, and even more are ridiculous, but death isn’t. Death isn’t ridiculous!”

“But the idea of a situation like that is!” The exasperated apprentice sighed. “There is no possible situation where a few milliseconds to grab a potion from across the stall could make a significant difference in the outcome!”

An expectant silence settled over the two. After a few moments,

“Funny. I was expecting something to happen.” Starshine giggled.

“Strangely, so was I.” Twilight admitted. “So what solution do you propose for this problem?”

“Move half of them over to the other side of the stall so one will always be in reach.” The herbalist ordered. Rolling her eyes, the unicorn shifted the formation three rows to her left and filled in the new gap with healing potions.

“Perfection!” The grey pony said, pleased. “Now, let’s get ready for the visitors!”

With a slight flourish of magic, Twilight lifted the “open” sign into place atop one of the poles. With festive lights at a comfortable brightness strung overhead and a multicolored front that would make the Nightwing Aurorae artists envious, Starshine and Twilight’s stall was still barely noticeable amongst the other structures in the Artists’ zone. When the meanest of your competition is a sculptor’s tent shaped like a giant banana, it takes more than colorfulness to make an impression.

Somehow, though, the Night ponies knew exactly where Starshine had set up shop, and flocked to them like starving ponies to an all-you-can-eat buffet. The older ponies dropped by and exchanged silver coins for cosmetic mixtures that shifted coat or mane color, or for solutions that (Starshine assured them) would give them the ability to predict the future with stunning accuracy, but so far as Twilight knew just caused uncontrollable muscle spasms and other assorted negative side effects for no real benefit. The younger ponies – the blank-flanked foals and the adolescents with images emblazoned proudly on their sides – came for potions to prank their friends with, to turn them invisible to escape their parents, and even – in one instance – for love potions. To the unicorn’s relief, Starshine refused to mix one of those incredibly volatile elixirs, citing Lower Canterlot laws with perfect recall until the filly who had asked wandered off in embarrassment.

The hour drew closer to midnight, the crystals in the ceiling brightening appropriately to maintain what would have been the light levels of on the surface – an incredibly complex enchantment that Twilight had learned of as she perused her new mentor’s private collection of books. The potion display in the front had been replenished several times from their stocks now, but they had run out of the highly coveted invisibility potions, and Starshine was now teaching her apprentice how to mix one. It seemed to involve a great deal of high-precision titration and measurements.

“Careful…” Starshine urged, her face pressing close to her student’s as they both watched the solution in the beaker beneath the blackleaf-extract-filled buret intently. Twilight opened the valve on the piece of equipment a miniscule amount, letting a single drop of the deep purple fluid fall into the otherwise clear liquid below. The solution in the beaker turned purple, then faded until only the slightest, almost undetectable, tint was left. The herbalist nodded in satisfaction.

“Um…hello?”

Twilight jumped at the sound of Regulus’s voice from behind her, bumping the buret’s valve and dumping another thirty milliliters of blackleaf extract into the potion. Starshine sighed in disappointment.

“So close…” She turned to their newest customer. “Hi, Regulus! Trade Day Special?”

“Much as I would love a randomized bag of prank potions, I must respectfully decline your offer, Starshine.” The marzipan unicorn answered sadly. “I wish I had time for that, but unfortunately I’m dealing with something of a family crisis at the moment.”

The herbalist had a healing potion in hoof in an instant, her normal smile replaced by a grim look of determination. “Where?”

Regulus laughed. “No, nothing needing your attention. If anything, I am here for Miss Sparkle.”

“Excuse me?” Twilight looked up from her fruitless attempt to recover the potion.

“Unicorn magic would be most helpful in resolving this crisis – I’ll explain in more detail when we are on our way, but yes, I’ve already tried myself.”

The lavender unicorn looked to her mentor for permission, and Starshine nodded. “Go ahead! I’ll be fine alone. I’ve done it often enough in past years since Nightshade died.”

“Okay!” With a quick flash of light that was painfully bright to all onlookers, Twilight teleported out of the stall to Regulus’s side. She swayed slightly as she regained her balance. “Where are we off to?”

“The chasm near Crystal Park. My sister dropped something of importance down it, and we need to recover it soon.” He began trotting off through the crowd. “This way – just a short walk once we’re out of the Marketplace.”

To Twilight’s surprise, they didn’t exit through the main archway, but rather through one of the secondary arches that were scattered along the walls. They descended a long and curving flight of stairs and emerged into a hallway three times her height, though only about two and a half times as wide. Ponies dressed in fine clothing pushed past to either side, making as much room as they could for Regulus. After another few minutes, they pushed through a small door to the right and emerged in a truly cavernous space.

The Crystal Park was an immense space beneath the earth, its walls made of plates of polished amethyst; formations of quartz and other semiprecious gems thrust upward from the rocky crust of the public space, and the majority of the room was a steep drop-off to a floor that was invisible from the distance involved. The park was situated on a thick ledge, but still took up only a tenth of the room.

“This object fell to the bottom of that?” Twilight asked as she trotted down the steps from the door to the Park proper. “I’m not sure what I’ll be able to do here, Regulus.”

“There’s a path down to the bottom, don’t worry.” He reassured her. “It’ll be a simple matter to get down there.”

“Do we want to get down there?”

“This chasm’s perfectly safe – it was explored and cleared of the monsters centuries ago, and kept that way by the Guard.” Regulus laughed. “Nothing to worry about.”

They threaded their way between large, softly luminescent crystal spires, heading to the far end of the ledge where the path down to the chasm bottom was located. It was a depressingly narrow thing; a sloped ledge about a length wide, winding around the edge of the huge pit to untold depths below. The unicorn mare drew back from the thing like it was an immense snake.

“Is there a safer way?”

“Nope.” Regulus stepped onto the path, dislodging a few pebbles and sending them down in a shower to the pit below. “I’ll go first. Watch your step!”

Half a terrifying hour later, they were at the cavern’s base. Twilight looked around for the object, realizing that she still had no idea what she was supposed to be helping with.

“It’s over there, on that stalagmite.” Regulus pointed out, indicating a rock formation twice Twilight’s height, with a small golden necklace improbably encircling the tip. It seemed to have some sort of large pink gem in the shape of a heart on the front, and the band was made of elegant gold netting.

“How did that get there?” She asked.

“My sister dropped it from the Park. She doesn’t have any idea how it fell off her neck, either.”

“And why am I needed again?”

“Because of this.” Regulus’s horn lit with crimson light as he tried to pry the necklace off the stalagmite. His aura enveloped the necklace, pulled upwards – and the gold band tightened itself around the stone, actually wiggling further down. “See? I can’t move it except downwards.”

“Fine, let me try.” Twilight drew upon her prodigious reserves of energy and grabbed hold of the necklace. To her surprise, she detected an immense reservoir of power within the jewelry – a reserve that surpassed her own to such an extent that she couldn’t find the end of the reserve. She tried to find the boundary, pushing into the gem with her mind and exploring its outer limits, but the pool just seemed to go on and on forever, and endless ocean that she could easily sink beneath – 

Focus. She pulled herself back from the power as she felt her mind begin to slip; some things, it seemed, were far beyond a pony’s capacity to understand. The unicorn gave a swift tug upwards with her aura, but the necklace repeated what it had done for Regulus.

“Try pulling down on it?” He suggested thoughtfully. “If it’s so intent on being contrary, we should work with that.”

“Good idea in theory.” She yanked downwards on the thing, but only aided it in its attempts to wedge itself further down. “Bad one in practice.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Agreed.” Twilight glared at the golden band, deep in thought. She would not accept defeat to an inanimate object. With a gasp and a grin, a plan came to her. “Midnight!”

“What about her?”

“I’ll go find Midnight and see if she’ll fly up to the necklace and remove it physically.” She clarified. “Magic just makes it drop further; maybe it’s been enchanted with a charm to resist that.”

“And a physical effort would bypass that charm entirely, yes.” Regulus nodded. “That could work.”

“I’ll be back soon – wait here.” She concentrated on the image of Starshine’s stand in the Marketplace, the furthest point that she could accurately image. Her horn glowed as she poured energy into the picture, and she felt the world warp around her as she teleported. When her eyes opened again, she found herself less than an inch away from her teacher’s magnified eyes.

“Twilight!” Starshine greeted her happily. Twilight responded with a yelp of surprise as she realized how close she’d come to killing them both. “Did you fix Regulus’s problem?”

“No; we need Midnight. Do you know where she is?”

“She just left, actually. She should be around still.” The Night pony leaned out the front of the stand and shouted for the pegasus.

“Thanks, Starshine.”

“No problem!”

“I heard my name?” Midnight dropped down from above, folding her wings as she landed. Arcturus galloped over as well, curious as to the reason his friend had been summoned.

“Regulus and I need some help with something.” Twilight explained. “I’ll teleport us back to the chasm floor; just grab on.”

“Regulus.” Arcturus growled. “Yeah, I’m out. Have fun, Midnight.”

“Oh, come one, Arcturus. You’re being ridiculous.” The pegasus sighed. “Bring him too, Twilight. If I had to face my parents’ death again, he gets to face his colthood nemesis in a social setting.”

“Now who’s being ridiculous?” The red unicorn snorted. “Burying your family’s death was unhealthy in the extreme. Avoiding a pony I dislike isn’t anywhere near as harmful.”

“You won’t even stand in the same room as him!”

“So?”

“Arcturus, you will detour around his home at all times, even if that means backtracking and adding a few miles to your trip. You wait for him to leave a shop before going in. You – “

“And he’s earned every bit of it.” He pointed out calmly. “Eight years of torment does not fade from mind easily.”

“Especially if you aren’t willing to do him the kindness of giving the benefit of the doubt.” Midnight shook her head in exasperation. “Just grab him, Twilight.”

Arcturus tried to turn and melt back into the crowd, but Twilight wrapped him in her aura and lifted him over. Placing a hoof on his shoulder and feeling Midnight grab hers in turn, she teleported both of them back to the chasm. The red unicorn dropped down to the ground with a thump, followed by the pegasus and Twilight herself.

Regulus just stared at Arcturus. Arcturus stared back.

“Oh, for the love of Luna!” Midnight interposed herself between them, fixing each of them with a furious look in turn. “Here, let’s reintroduce you two. Regulus, this is Arcturus. Arcturus, Regulus. Past is behind us.”

“Charmed.” Regulus held out a hoof. With a defeated sigh, Arcturus shook it.

“Hello again, Reg.”

“It’s been a while.”

“Intentionally.”

Twilight looked at the black pegasus, who was rubbing her forehead in a desperate attempt to relieve the migraine that was approaching. “Well, this went well.”

“What do you need me to do?” She asked. “Let’s get this over with so I can send Arcturus back to time out.”

“Just fly up and grab that necklace off the stalagmite.”

She looked at the piece of jewelry and frowned. “Couldn’t you or Regulus have – “	

“We tried. It’s enchanted to resist magic or something.”

“This shouldn’t be too long.”

As Midnight hovered up to retrieve the necklace, Twilight watched the two unicorn stallions attempt to interact kindly.

“So…er…lovely weather we’re having?” Arcturus offered hesitantly.

“We’re underground. If there were any weather I would consider it a problem.” Regulus responded wryly. “Now, why exactly have you been avoiding me?”

“Because you tortured me for all of my childhood and never once apologized.”

“Is that it?” The marzipan unicorn gave him a stunned look. “That’s it?”

“All of my childhood, Regulus! It took a while for my magic to manifest itself, you mocked me! I was a blank flank until I was eight, you laughed at me! I failed an aptitude test, you laughed some more!” Arcturus’s voice rose with each accusation, until he realized he was causing echoes. “Sorry. It’s a delicate topic, but I shouldn’t lose my temper.”

“Perfectly understandable. I’ll admit I was a bit harsh in judging others when I was a colt, but I’ve grown out of it.”

“I’ve seen no sign of – “

They were interrupted by a pained screech from Midnight. The pegasus skidded to a landing in their midst, keeping her forehooves lifted gingerly off the ground and using her wings to balance herself on her back legs. “The stupid necklace burnt me!”

“What?”

“It heated up until it was white-hot and burned my hooves!” She hissed in pain as she licked at the frogs on her injured feet to soothe them. “Luna damn that bucking necklace!”

“Any other bright ideas, Twilight?” Regulus asked. The mare shook her head.

“If it wants to stay there, I say let it stay there.” She proclaimed. “Come on; let’s get back to the Marketplace.”

“Perhaps it simply needs a gentler touch?” Arcturus suggested, trotting up to the stalagmite. “You’ve been rather harsh; what if it were intelligent? Would you yield to somepony that was willing to use force to prevent you from doing as you wanted?”

“It’s a necklace.” Regulus deadpanned.

“A necklace that has defied your best efforts to remove it.”

“Fair enough. Have a go at it, then.”

Arcturus closed his eyes and took a calming breath. With a slight flicker, barely detectable even to Twilight’s sensitive eyes, his green magical aura enveloped the necklace and slowly lifted.

The stone cracked. Everypony except the red unicorn jumped in surprise.

Slowly, the necklace floated off the stalagmite, drifting through the air until it hovered just in front of Regulus’s stunned features.

“There you go, Regulus. No charge.”

“Thank you, Arcturus.” Regulus grabbed the necklace with his own magic – or attempted to, in any case. With a flash of light that had everypony blinking stars from their eyes, the necklace fired a pulse of energy along his telekinetic grasp, hurling Regulus backwards into the chasm wall and bending his foreleg at an impossible angle. In a flash, Twilight and Arcturus were at his side.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He insisted, struggling back to his hooves, spiked mane charred and smoking at the ends. Twilight noticed that a worryingly long hairline crack had appeared in his horn. “Stars above, that thing does not like to be touched.”

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Arcturus asked, concerned.

“Perfectly so!” He answered. “And didn’t you hate me a few moments ago?”

“Not enough to want you hurt.” He caught Regulus as his left foreleg gave out beneath him, appending: “And you are definitely hurt.”

“I’ll live.”

“You’ll live without magic if we don’t get that crack in your horn fixed.” Twilight observed. “Come on; Starshine’s probably got a few extra healing potions laying around, and if not we should be able to mix one.”

“Then let’s go!” Regulus stood again, wincing as he put pressure on his wounded leg. “The sooner the better.”

“Not on your own power, you don’t.” Arcturus’s horn lit as he picked Regulus up and dropped the unicorn on his back. “I’ll carry you up. That leg looks bad.”

“I’ve suffered far worse. Let me down!”

“Not bloody likely.” The red unicorn smiled. “Should we bring the necklace too?”

“Please. It will be humiliating enough to face my mother with injuries like this from a piece of jewelry without having the stench of failure rising off my body in waves.” Arcturus lifted the thing from its spot on the chasm floor and put it around his own neck.

“Which way?” He asked, and then the necklace flared with the intensity of a dozen suns. Twilight just barely managed to avert her eyes in time, and the others’ vision was saved only by virtue of them not looking at the object directly as it happened. When the light dimmed, the lavender unicorn – and all else in attendance – watched as what had been gold shimmered grey-white for a moment and turned to silver. The heart-shaped gem at the center reshaped itself to match Arcturus’s Mark – a pair of nested crescents – and shone a brilliant rose for an instant before dropping down to within Night pony tolerances. The bearer himself staggered slightly under the force of the magical force.

“What just happened?” Midnight asked, a note of awe creeping into her voice.

“Forget Starshine.” Regulus ordered. “We’re going to Moonwatcher.”

“Regulus, your horn is – “ Twilight began, but she was interrupted quickly.

“Forget my horn!” He shouted. In a more normal voice: “The Seer needs to see this. I’ll explain when we get there, but let’s get there quickly.”

“But – “

“Quickly.”

“Fine!” The unicorn mare surrendered. “To Moonwatcher, then!”

“Which way?” Arcturus repeated, apparently unfazed by the magical artifact hanging around his neck.

“I’ll give directions. Just start walking.” Regulus told him. “May the Stars prevent us from meeting anypony from my family on the way.”

“Why?”

“Because then my humiliation would be complete.”

> Hiatus Announcement
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, folks, it's time to be honest here: without an update for several months and an inability on my part to come up with new chapter ideas (I now know the true meaning of "writer's block"), this story's been unofficially on hiatus for a good while.

I'm just gonna make it official now...there! The deed is done.

Once ideas start flowing again, I'll start updating, but until then thanks for reading!