Jovia

The bushes caught in his mane as he rushed past, but at this point he barely noticed. Bits of bramble hung from his fur, underneath which the skin was cut and bruised. He snorted heavily, as equines do when they’ve taken several hundred yards in the time it takes to get properly worked up, and dived through the bracken.

This slope led down to a narrow trench. Dust was kicked up behind his hooves, and he jumped occasionally to clear a boulder. The trench walls were far enough apart to accept both of his wings outstretched, except that one of the wings hung limply against his side. Overhead, the stars watched.

Despite the darkness, he didn’t dare use his unicorn magic. The light would have given him away.

Hooves thundered on for a while before he cocked both ears. He stumbled. He dropped to a canter. The plains overhead had been empty when he’d dived down here. Cantering slipped down to a trot, and when his ears relaxed he went down to a walk and let the panting run its course.

He’d been careful. Flight had taken him only so far, but a dark silhouette shows up surprisingly well against a night sky. The full moon shone down on him even here, and he ducked under the shadows of one of the trench walls. The instant he’d hit ground, he’d bolted. It wasn’t a particularly smart reflex in a pony, even if it had worked for their ancestors long ago, though right now he wasn’t going to knock it. At least the ground wasn’t filled with stars and moons, the light of which could be blotted out whenever he passed.

A mud bath before he’d fled masked his scent; clean water would have removed any dirt on him, exposing his body’s natural smells to the slight breeze. All four shoes had been removed so as not to leave prints. When he’d caught a chance, he rolled in the soil and ducked behind boulders for a few moments. He’d run into the river and let it carry him downstream for a while, remembering to roll in the mud again when he climbed out. Moving through the gouge marks and trenches nearer the edge of the plains had helped tremendously.

Now, he couldn’t hear anything. No more yells, no more thundering hooves. Not even any unnatural silences which would have betrayed anyone trying to sneak up on him. That was the first rule: never be too quiet. It made you stand out on the plains.

All the same, the panting still hadn’t stopped yet. He let himself fall onto his knees and took long, delicious breaths.

Something clanked. He was on his hooves at once, stiff with ache and a sudden rush of fear. He felt his jaw tighten. No. They hadn’t, had they? He wasn’t nearly important enough. They wouldn’t have sent–

Sand fell onto his eyes. He shook it out and looked up at the top of the trench.

There was a rush of air, and the dull thump of several tons of something hitting the soil before him. Something clicked.

It didn’t speak. It didn’t have to. The thing it was aiming at him spoke loudly enough.

The five of them were crammed in the anteroom, carefully avoiding each others’ gazes. Princess Platinum had refused to sit next to either Smart Cookie or Chancellor Pudding for fear of getting her second faux ermine cape dirty. As a result, she ended up sandwiched between two pegasi whose rusting armour was making her think twice about the seating arrangements. Commander Hurricane had disapproved until it occurred to her that this gave her a new non-pegasus target to shout at.

“It’s ‘sir’ when you address me, you prissy pony,” she boomed, as Clover pushed the door and backed into the room. Private Pansy hid her face under the table.

“Don’t call me prissy! The acceptable term is fashionable, or well-mannered.”

“As Chancellor of this meeting,” said Puddinghead, while Smart Cookie rolled her eyes, “I demand the right to declare what’s acceptable and what’s not, and I declare that cake-covered stockings are acceptable. Have some!”

“Put that cake down! There shall be no cake at a Royal meeting unless I say so–” There was a splat. Princess Platinum screamed.

A while later, she rose from under the table.

“How dare you! You, commoner, are just fortunate that you missed, or I would have you arrested for high treason to the crown!”

“Pfft, yeah right. We rule together now, dippy ditzy. I’ll just have you arrested for having me arrested, and all my citizens will vote in favour of having you locked up in the stocks and caked every morning! And then I’ll release you from the stocks and have my turn getting caked, because we believe in equal rights and cakes for all ponies!”

“As Commander of the Pegasi, I order you all to stop talking immediately!”

“And what if we don’t, Commander Blowhard?” said Puddinghead.

“Don’t talk back to a commanding officer, civilian! Why, if you were in the army, I would so kick your namby-pamby croup into the middle of next week for your insubordination.”

“Keep your ruffian ways to yourself, Commander,” said the Princess.

“Our ruffian ways kept us on the map for thousands of years, you ivory-headed pansy – no offence, Private. Survival of the fittest has been, and always will be, the pegasus creed. None of our leaders would spend every morning dressing themselves up for tidbits at teatime.”

The projector thumped onto the table, silencing every pony. Clover’s horn continued glowing.

“Quiet, all of you. This is very important! I believe I have discovered something of utmost importance to all of ponykind.” The projector clicked, and the wall glowed with white magic.

The other three looked at it curiously. Commander Hurricane twisted her head.

“What’s that supposed to be?” she said.

“Chancellor Puddinghead, you were elected by the earth ponies to govern their former land. During my interview with you, I ascertained that you received instructions from a certain painting you claimed could talk to you. Smart Cookie confirmed the painting’s authenticity, at which point it was simply a small matter of consulting the art books for any trace of one Lady Star Fruit. Here's a family crest.”

The slide showed a shield, upon which was a unicorn rampant, with a golden tiara placed upon its head. The wings were displayed, and the mouth was wide open as though screaming in rage. The body was a shocking white, contrasting sharply with the dark pink of the shield behind it.

“Nice style,” said the Commander huffily. “So what?”

Clover reached over and wrenched a lever in the side of the box. Her horn was still glowing, and the shield on the glowing wall was briefly replaced by whiteness before another image leapt into view.

“Commander Hurricane, you fought your way from Private ranking to the head of the pegasus army through conquest and military skill. During my interview with you, I discovered that you consulted with the horned pegasus statue of Aries in the cloud temple before each battle.”

They were confronted by six columns, so close to the screen that the drums making up each column could be clearly discerned. Beyond them were steps leading up to the large temple interior, and at the far end they could make out the profile of a pegasus, seated on its haunches and bowing its head as if to listen to any who prostrated themselves below. This being a pegasus dwelling, everything was light blue and white.

Puddinghead and Hurricane rose up at the same instant.

“Hey, you copied our picture!” Puddinghead pointed an accusing hoof at the Commander. “Do you have spies among our ranks?”

“I was going to ask this unicorn–” shouted Hurricane, pointing at Clover “– the same question. This is classified information! I never gave you the specifics. How could you possibly know what our temple looks like?”

“I asked Pansy,” Clover said. “And before you start shouting, I can assure you that my reasons for doing so will become clear.”

Hurricane rounded on the Private. “I’ll see you after the meeting.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” said Smart Cookie, while rearing up and placing both hooves on the table. “Ah was there, Ah heard for mahself what Pansy had to say, an’ Ah heard the reasons Clover was givin’. We both know where this is leading to better ‘n you do. So why don’t you wait until after Clover’s done her talkin’?”

Hurricane bit her lip savagely, but kept silent. After a dangerous pause, they both settled down.

“Thank you, Smart Cookie,” said Clover. “And Chancellor, there’s a good reason why the statue resembles the painting back in your hut. Lastly, there’s a slide I want you all to see.”

The image on the wall flickered. An old mare appeared, cloaked and wrinkled and smiling serenely at them all.

“Princess Platinum and I also receive guidance from an exemplar unicorn. Not Star Swirl the Bearded. An associate. But this is an illusion magic. If I apply the filter to the projection, then you should see something else.”

A bubble of light swelled on the tip of the unicorn’s horn and drifted overhead. It settled across the room and placed itself delicately before the projector. None of the ponies took their eyes off it.

The bubble obscured the projecting light, but only briefly. It bulged and thinned and distorted itself, and each time it did so the image on the screen began to shift.

Where there had once been a cloak, there were now wings. The hood gave way to a horn and a flowing mane. Grey skin bleached itself and the jade grew taller.

Clover stepped onto the table top. “So, we have the painting, the statue, and the jade. Three different kinds of illusion magic performed by three different individuals. I believe all three individuals are actually the same pony.”

Puddinghead scoffed. “Nonsense. You make even less sense than I do. Stop it. Only I’m allowed to make less sense than I do!”

“You don’t have any proof for any of this,” said Hurricane.

“And the proof is in the pudding.”

Clover sighed, and looked across at the Princess. They had expected this.

“Think about it, said Princess Platinum. “Each of our three pony races had very little contact with the others outside of the Arrangement. The earth ponies grew the food, the pegasi managed the weather, and we unicorns brought forth night and day.”

“But we knew so little about each other’s lives beyond that,” said Private Pansy.

“We weren’t exactly on speaking terms,” agreed Cookie. “One pony could easily have pulled all our strings at once without the others knowing about it.”

“This still isn’t proof,” said the Commander. “I mean, who is this pony? And what breed are they? Unicorn?”

Clover’s horn blasted with light. The air distorted around them, swirling around the unicorn’s head like watercolours being poured down a drain. Screams of pain fled from Clover’s mouth, which she tried to bite back with clenched teeth. All five ponies backed away from the table hurriedly.

“Clover!” It was hard to tell which of them had shouted it. Cookie? Pansy? The Princess?

She shut her eyes tightly. When she next opened them, pure light radiated out and the room was engulfed in whiteness.

A moment later, the six ponies were hovering over air. The two pegasi flapped their wings instinctively. The Chancellor wailed and tried to climb over Cookie’s back.

“Not afraid of heights, are ya, Chancellor?” Cookie said, through chattering teeth.

“There’s no need to panic,” said the Princess to herself. “We are perfectly safe up here.”

“Is that why you’re wringing your hooves, yer Majesty?”

Platinum stopped and gave a snort of contempt.

Below them was a darkness so pure that it tore at the edges of their eyes. It left the pupils watering with the strain, trying to open wide enough to suck in any trace of light. Stars began to twinkle into life. Their bodies were drawn downwards, as something only slightly brighter than the surrounding celestial sphere came into view.

The plains down below were parched and empty, but around their edges were mountains like the spikes of a gigantic crown. At the foot of one of these cosmic-sized mountains, the spires and towers of a palace (far grander than even Princess Platinum’s) erupted like spiked crystals. These were easily the brightest things to be seen, glowing with their own ethereal light as if holding their own against the dark plains.

Every pony felt themselves drawn closer to the phosphorescence. Behind them, Clover groaned with the strain of the magic.

Luminescent castle walls loomed before them, and swiped the air aside as they soared over. White hills rose up on the continent, sleet and hail snatched at their cloaks and battered their armour. Clouds smothered them, and above the surface the tops of the tallest spires rose. A mountain of opal watched their approach, and when they believed they were going to crash into its curved side, it opened. A golden shutter, richly ornate with swirls and serpentine bars, swung back to admit them, and they were engulfed in sunlight.

All of them shielded their eyes save for Clover, who writhed and gritted her teeth with the effort and therefore had already shut hers tightly.

Eventually, they dared to take a peek.

It was a long time before they could close their eyes again.

The anteroom snapped back into view. Clover released a sigh that had been bursting to come out, and collapsed onto the floor.

Apart from the two pegasi, who were caught off guard but quickly recovered the use of their wings, the rest of them fell back to the ground. Smart Cookie bounced off the table and landed on the stone floor. Puddinghead landed on her chair the wrong way up. Four white hooves wiggled at the other end before the Princess righted herself.

“Clover! This is most unseemly,” she said. Her hoof shot to her mouth. “Clover! Clover, what have you done to yourself?”

With the practised ease of one who had been pampered often, she pointed at Smart Cookie and Pansy. “You two, bring her back up to her hooves. Fetch her some water. Quickly!”

It took some time for Clover to regain her senses, but by the looks of the others she wasn’t alone. The Commander was white. The Chancellor’s head rested on the seat of her chair as though its owner had no idea what to do with it.

“I demand to know what going on,” she said quietly, though without conviction. “I’m the leader. I can’t be upstaged by a light show.”

“Er, Chancellor?” said Smart Cookie. She poked her superior’s temple to see if she’d respond, but the rest of the body above the head simply rocked backwards and forwards.

“I’m the leader, I can’t be upstaged, I’m the leader, I can’t be upstaged…”

“What were those things?” the Commander said to no one in particular. “One minute, they’re… and then they’re… and the sheer amount of magic… Were they unicorns?”

Clover stepped back onto the table, limping slightly. The projector was still glowing. She pushed the level down, plunging them into darkness.

“They are not unicorns,” she said. “Or earth ponies or pegasi. There’s a fourth race of pony, thought to be just the stuff of fairy tales and myth. Alicorns.”

Those present remembered the stories. The fair foals, the horses of purity, the beauties that surpassed all beauty – part unicorn, part pegasus, part earth pony, combining all the strong attributes of each race with none of the weaknesses – and as a result possessing unbelievably strong magical powers. The stories had mentioned that they liked to gather in large congregations for feasts and entertainments, and certainly those had been seen.

The stories hadn’t mentioned the colour schemes, which for any one alicorn seemed also to have been a blend of those of three ponies. Each alicorn had looked like a neon sign had suffered a bad accident with a paint shop before running into a Picasso painting.

The stories also hadn’t mentioned torture devices.

Unfortunately, those had been seen, too. They had also been used, amid much merriment.

“My master, Star Swirl the Bearded, was on the verge of tapping into their great power himself, in a series of experiments designed to reveal the portals between worlds. I’ve just shown you one now.”

She got down, so that a table stood between her and Princess Platinum. Either side of the table, the pegasi and Smart Cookie resumed their seats. They were listening intently now.

“Ours is just one world among a great multitude. Star Swirl believed that, if the worlds existed, they could occasionally interact with each other – something he called Universal Drift – and that could allow the inhabitants of one world to access another world. Some would simply collide once, either destroying themselves or continuing on their trajectories. But occasionally, there would be two worlds in perfect parallel arrangements, perfectly connected along the entire length and breadth and depth. My proposal is that the alicorns inhabit such a world adjoining our own, using their powers to transcend the boundaries at will.

“They controlled the breeds by keeping them separate. Through all three rulers – Chancellor, Commander, and Princess – they controlled the destiny of all ponies, and yet their existence only had to be known by six individuals in all. That’s all of us here.”

“We’re under the hooves,” said Puddinghead, still upside-down, “of those things?”

“Something funny’s going on,” said Hurricane, and she banged a hoof onto the table. “If that’s the case, then why would they do this?”

“What did they hope to achieve?”

“And why is it suddenly failing?”

“I’m not sure,” said Clover, taking the projector off the table. “If this goes back as far as I think it does, then their intentions must have involved keeping us separate all this time. They didn’t want us to be united like this. I think something must have interfered with their ability to control us. The windigos might have ruined their plans, but I’m not sure why. It must have something to do with the windigos – they were the only things that changed the course of history.”

“And what do you propose we do?” asked the Princess. Her eyelashes fluttered nervously.

Clover took a deep breath, and looked across at Smart Cookie, then at Private Pansy. Both of them nodded back to her, their faces determined and solemn. Her magic stirred at the memory of what happened in the cave, long ago. She could feel the fire burning strong inside her.

“I propose we do what we can to protect Equestria, and all ponydom,” she said. “Luckily, we don’t have to take on all alicorns. They’re ruled by a Queen, and the Queen inhabits the palace we just saw. I will confront them–”

She closed her eyes and waited patiently until the uproar died down.

“I will confront them, and try to reason with the Queen directly.”

“Poppycock,” spat Princess Platinum. “There’s no way I will allow you to confront such brutes alone.”

“She won’t be alone, Your Highness,” said Private Pansy. “With the Commander’s permission, I’ll gladly go with her and protect her.”

Next to her, Hurricane stuck a hoof into her own ear and twisted. “My ears must still be playing me up from that magic trip. I thought I just heard Private volunteer for a mission.”

“Yes I did, Commander.”

“An’ Ah’ll provide support,” said Smart Cookie. “We’ve got the flame of friendship on our side, remember? There ain’t no enemy who can stand up to that.”

“Hey!” said Puddinghead, whose face was turning red with all the blood pooling in it. “That’s what I was going to say. Or at least, I was, now that you said it, but the thought was there before you’d thunk it! On the tip of my tongue. As Chancellor of Equestria, I should be going on this mission.”

“Er, Chancellor–”

“Oh, nonononono, I can’t let you get even more glory than I have, because then that would make you better than me, and I’m Chancellor, and there’s nothing better than Chancellor, so there’s nothing better than me, so you can’t go, and if you can’t go then no one can go besides me!”

“Ah weren’t gonna say that,” said Cookie innocently, examining a hoof. “Not at all. In fact, Ah wouldn’t mind the company. An’ you could leave the Princess and the Commander in charge while you’re away.”

The chair scraped. Sitting the right way up again, the Chancellor’s brain made a noise like an iron bar being struck against a pipe. In the cognitive depths of her brain’s machinery, something jammed, or at least jammed more firmly than usual.

“Hold on a second–” she began.

“An’, o’ course, if you’d rather face those pesky alicorn thingies all by yourself, Ah can see why you would want to leave our newfound Equestria behind.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“O’ course, havin’ more glory than me, an’ bein’ better than me, Ah guess y’all would know how to use the magic of friendship properly, too.”

The Chancellor folded her arms and pouted. “Do you think I look stupid?”

“Was that a rhetorical question?”

“I already have more than enough glory and enough being-better-than-everyone-else-ness-ness to suffice, so as Chancellor of the earth Ponies, I can make you go in my stead.”

Cookie sat back in her chair and folded her forelegs behind her head, like arms. It was hard to tell, but her lips appeared to form the words: “Like a fiddle.”

“Excellent,” said Clover. “And you, Private Pansy?”

Pansy fiddled with the string of her armour. If sidelong looks came any shier, the eye movements would have to be done on a microscopic scale. Hurricane blinked back at her.

“You are volunteering for this, right?” she kept saying.

“Yes, sir, Commander, sir.” Pansy tried a salute. If Smart Cookie could play the fiddle, Pansy could perform a full orchestral score.

“You’re not being coerced, or forced, or bullied, or in any other way deprived of your own free will?”

“No, sir, Commander, sir.”

“Are you standing to attention?”

“Affirmative, sir, Commander, sir.”

She had such a cute frown, thought Clover. Like a terrier trying to stare down a mastiff, but without actually staring at it. Indeed, Hurricane waved a hoof in front of Pansy’s face in case she was staring at Puddinghead and not, say, just staring in broad terms.

“You know the risks, you know the dangers, you could be facing certain agonising death at the hooves of an unknown enemy whose powers, by nearly all accounts, exceed our own, and you’re volunteering to go along?”

The chair bounced off the wall as Private Pansy snapped to all fours and held her salute. “Sir, yes, sir!”

Hurricane gaped at the oversized helmet jangling on Private’s noggin as though she had never seen this madness before in her life.

She wiped an imaginary tear from the corner of her eye.

“Today,” she choked, "I witnessed a miracle." Both pegasi showed the unicorn how to pull off a true salute. “Miss Clover, you can count on the pegasus army for every step of the way.”

Clover tried a salute back.

“Thank you, Commander. Thank you, Private.” They lowered their forelegs. Now, for the Princess, she thought.

“Your Highness?” she said.

“Of course,” was the reply. The table glowed purple and rose to the ceiling. Something squeaked. Clover strode under the table’s shadow. Either side of her, Pansy and Smart Cookie took up their positions while Hurricane hovered overhead. The three friends kneeled before the Princess, who tapped her unicorn horn upon each wither.

“By the powers vested in me, I, Her Majesty Princess Platinum, do hereby approve the quest of her royal subject, and devoted friend, Clover the Clever. And furthermore, I hereby declare that all the pony citizens of Equestria, shall perform whatever service they can offer, to ensure the success of your noble quest. I have faith in you, Clover.”

As one, Clover, Pansy, and Smart Cookie rose back to their hooves. All three of them stood together, ready for anything, facing the doorway to a new adventure…

“Ex-cuuuuse me,” said Puddinghead in a squashed voice above them, “but would you mind lowering this table first?”