Defense in Depth

Chapters

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 10

Chapter 1

When we first built Canterlot Castle, there was a great deal of discussion about the placement of buttresses, towers, doorways, and windows. The war had only just ended and no one was eager to relive the horror that had been the Battle of Everfree (which was not so much a battle as a flight to escape certain death) and the destruction of Everfree Castle when the beautiful windows had all shattered and the walls had crumbled. Half the architects and builders argued every time we tried to add some structurally superfluous creative flair to the designs, insisting that the new castle should be a citadel with uniform form and obvious function.

Sometimes I wonder what the final design would have looked like if I hadn’t fought tooth and nail most of the time to get things added. I burned more than a few bridges over silly, pretty things. The princess herself praised my work, but now, in my old age, I wish I had given in to some of the more innocuous suggestions. At least, though, I didn’t lose my best friend over an argument about putting a window in one of the classroom towers. Looking back I can truly say losing a friend is not worth a great view that precious few will appreciate.

- Memoirs of Ser Ramshackle, Chief Architect of Canterlot Castle

The low rumble was fading now, but it had shaken the tower down to its foundation only a moment before. One of the teachers had excused herself to check with the guard, but the other three were still staring down at her from the benches. Their bewitched pencils were picking and scratching at their clipboards like buzzards at a carcass.

Twilight took a deep breath and focused back on the egg again. That boom had startled her so bad she’d nearly lost control of her magic, but she’d felt something. Only for a moment, but some tiny fire had been lit inside her chest. Rapidly, it rushed up to her horn and it ignited in a muted purple glow. Slowly, ever-so-slowly, the egg began to hover over the nest. She pulled with every bit of newfound magic she had at her disposal, trying to crack the shell like the examiners wanted. After such an effort the light blue egg did little than wobble impotently in the air. Twilight let it fall back to the straw nest and nearly collapsed from the effort.

“I think that’s enough.” The teacher who had gone out to check on things was standing in the doorway. He’d seen everything. After a quick look to his fellow administrators, he stepped up to Twilight’s parents. “Your daughter has talent for her age,” he said, glancing in Twilight’s direction. “This test is, naturally, not designed to actually hatch the egg. What we’re looking for in our prospective students is a desire to perform as well as a certain magical aptitude. We feel your daughter would be best served by going through the Canterlot school system until grade school graduation and then applying to our institution for advanced studies and a focused education.”

The world was falling out from under Twilight. Her exuberance had ballooned when the stallion had praised her only to be ruthlessly popped by what amounted to a polite denial of entry. She struggled to her feet and caught the lapel of his tweed suit in her mouth. “You…you said I wasn’t supposed to hatch the egg. W-why won’t you l-let me in?”

“It is extremely rare for a unicorn your age to make it into our school,” he said, leaning down to get eye-level with the filly. “You are a talented unicorn,” he said. Some of the harshness Twilight had seen in his face during the test had vanished, replaced by a well-worn weariness that hung about his eyes when he tried to smile. “We are not, however, equipped to bring that talent out in you. Ponies who study here devote their entire lives to the pursuit of magic. There is little time for playing, friendships, family, or any other interests. It’s not something that the majority of young fillies want.”

But I do! Twilight wanted to scream. Her mother moved quicker than Twilight could find her words, though. The mare swept her daughter up in a tight hug while her father quietly thanked the examiner for his time. She wanted to throw a fit and demand he let her in. She wanted to tell him this was all she'd ever wanted from the second she'd first watched Princess Celestia raise the sun for the first time.

There were so many things Twilight wanted to say but couldn’t because of the choked sobs bubbling up her throat.

“This is the third mark this semester against your daughter. I’m afraid it will have to go on her record.”

Twilight let out a sigh as her mother gasped. She wanted to ask her what made this particular trip to the principal’s office more shocking that the last two, but she stayed silent. The years had taught her exactly how much lip her mother could take before she went up like a smokestack and Twilight Velvet was teetering on the edge.

Her father patted Velvet on the hoof and whispered something in her ear. “Is there any way we can avoid this?” he asked once his wife had calmed. “We know that Twilight has her problems, but a mark on her record will follow her for the rest of her academic life. It could affect what secondary schools she could enroll in next year.”

The principal shifted in her seat to slide a thick manila envelope over the table. “If this were an uncommon occurrence I would be inclined to show leniency, but Twilight Sparkle has been involved in several fights with her classmates this school year. Because of the nature of this latest fight, the school board and I feel it necessary to impose the strictest punishment.”

“The ‘nature of the fight’?”

“She locked an older filly in a locker and somehow melted the lock into the door.” The earth pony shook her head, seemingly at a loss as to how to properly describe the process. “It took an entire class period for anyone to find her and another fifteen minutes for the janitor to take the door off its hinges. The filly was a pegasus. As you know, our school has a zero-tolerance policy for magical bullying.”

That was all Twilight could take. She scoffed and threw her front hooves up. “Curly Cumulous hid my book bag! If I didn’t make her give it back I would have gotten in trouble for not having my books!”

“Hiding your books requires you to lock a young filly in a dark locker for an hour?” The principal pinned Twilight with a flat look. This wasn’t their first argument about problems like this. “And even if in your mind it was, that does not excuse you from getting a teacher and telling them that someone had taken your book bag.”

“And then everyone would call me a snitch and hate me even more,” Twilight countered.

“No one hates you, Twilight Sparkle. We’ve talked about this here in my office and with the school counselor. You simply have to make some—”

Twilight leapt up onto the seat of her chair so that she could see over the tall desk. “No one wants to be friends with the oldest blank flank in the school!” she shouted. “No one wants to sit with me at lunch and no one likes the things I like! Nobody cares about magic! Everyone here is stupid, stupid, stupid!”

Twilight Velvet grabbed her daughter and held her tightly in her lap. “You are in more than enough trouble, young lady! I never want to hear you speak that way to your principal again! Do you hear me?” Ashen, she looked from the struggling filly to the principal. “I’m so incredibly sorry for this, Miss Crabapple. I can promise you that this won’t happen again. Please…please give her one more chance. She only has a few more weeks to go. She’s done so much to get her grades back up.”

Somewhere between Twilight Velvet’s teary face, Night Light’s blatant worry, and Twilight’s indignant squirming Miss Crabapple found her answer. She brought her hoof up to massage what was blooming into a truly throbbing headache. “One more chance,” she whispered, pulling back the manila envelope and removing a sheet of paper from it which she balled up and tossed away in the trashcan under her desk. “I’ll give Twilight Sparkle one more chance to make it through this semester without a permanent administrative censor on her record. Just one more fight, one more failed class, and it’s out of my hooves.”

“Oh, thank Celestia. I can’t tell you what this means for us and Twilight, Miss Crabapple.”

“There will be punishment, however.” She met Twilight’s defiant eyes. “We cannot allow magical bullying at our school. I’m told by Mister Sagecrest that Twilight Sparkle is one of his brightest students in Magical Studies, so the punishment will certainly be fitting. I believe that, to ensure nothing like this happens again, Twilight Sparkle needs to learn that her magic is not a tool to bully others with. Therefore, while she’s on school grounds we will require her to wear a magical dampening ring. Naturally, the cost for procuring it will not fall on the school.”

Twilight opened her mouth to scream at the principal, but her mother’s hoof was quicker and bottled up the reply. “Of course, Miss Crabapple. We’ll pick one up on the way home.” She gave her daughter a stern look and then moved her hoof away. “Twilight, express to your principal your thanks at being given this opportunity.”

The filly didn’t miss her cue. “Thank you so much for taking away the only thing I’m good at,” she said with the sweetest expression she could muster. Night Light groaned at his daughter's words, and Velvet moved to take even more drastic measures, but a raised hoof from Crabapple stopped them. “You’re welcome, Twilight Sparkle.” She stared down the irate filly. “Even if you don’t really mean it right now, you’re welcome.”

The walk home was one of the most uncomfortable ones of Twilight’s young life. Her mother berated her the entire time. Her father picked out the dampening ring himself and, “to get you used to it”, they made her wear it the entire way home. Furthermore, the cost was going to come out of her allowance for the next year or so. Ponies on the street looked at her with varying degrees of mirth – the only unicorns who wore rings like this were the very, very young or the very, very old: ponies who couldn’t control their own magic. It was incredibly embarrassing for a young filly of ten to walk down the street not only missing a cutie mark at her age, but also with a big, ugly metal ring slipped over her horn.

She was sent straight to her room at home. Twilight threw her book bag (the last scrap of pride she had left came from the fact she’d forced Curly Cumulous to tell her where it was) across the room and flopped onto her bed to scream into her pillow. She was a bright filly and knew more than a few choice words for her parents, her school, and her entire stupid life. When she was done her tongue had hair all over it and her mouth tasted like laundry detergent.

Her bedroom door creaked open and Shining Armor poked his head in. Not thinking, Twilight tried to throw her pillow at him but the ring blocked the magic. Only a few sparks shot out from the tip of her horn to show she was channeling anything at all. Shining didn’t miss that, though.

“Nice accessory, Sis. It really goes with your mane.”

Twilight grunted and rolled back over so at least she didn’t have to look at him. “Go away. I’ve suffered enough today.”

Shining Armor didn’t listen. Twilight heard him plod up to her bedside. “I heard you really did a number on Curly Cumulous. Did you have to weld the locker shut? They probably would have let you off easier if all you did was scare her a little.” He pushed her out of the way so he could plant himself on her bed as well. “You could have just gotten me, too.”

“And then you would have gotten in trouble. You’re trying to get into that stupid guard thing. I can’t drag you down with me.”

The colt made a face at his ROTC lessons being called stupid. “I wouldn’t have gotten into a fight with her, Sis. I would have just asked her nicely to give you back your stuff.” He grinned and poked her in the side with his hoof. “You know, like a normal pony. Maybe that’s not exciting enough for my rough-and-tumble little sister? Trying to get into a biker gang or something?” Twilight fought the rising giggles trying to escape. “No, biker gangs are too tame. Tomorrow the head bouncer of the Royal Canterlot Bouncer Academy will come and take you away. ‘There’s a new dragon bar opening on the south end and we need her!’ You’ll be the terror of all dragons trying to dine and dash, Twilie.”

Twilight valiantly held out for another few seconds before her chest started to convulse with the strangled laughs she’d been holding in. Her brother could be such a goofball sometimes. He took a moment to consider the merits of his sister being a dragon bar bouncer before dramatically shaking his head so hard the bed bounced. “Nah, even the dragons would start to get scared of you. No business. You’re too talented for your own good.”

As her laughing wound down, Twilight caught on that last statement. She was talented for her age, but not talented enough. That was her problem. She was good at magic, but not good enough to get a cutie mark for it; good at school and studying, but not good enough to stay interested long enough to keep her grades up; too good at something for where she was, but not good enough to go where she wanted.

Realizing he might have ruined the mood, Shining Armor rolled off the bed. “Come on, come on,” he said, lifting his little sister with his magic. “I know that look. There’s only one thing that will make you smile now.”

They snuck out into the hallway. Shining Armor craned his head toward the stairs for a moment and then floated Twilight out as well. The colt’s room was much different from Twilight’s in that it had pictures and knick-knacks from school lying around. Shining Armor and his friends smiled out from half a dozen picture frames at whoever walked in. Even though her brother had changed when he had started ROTC, he still kept up with his old Ogres and Oublettes chums from grade school. Twilight would never admit it to him, but she envied the way Shining Armor was able to make friends.

Her brother set her down on his bed like a sack of potatoes and rushed off to his closet. “Sorry about the mess,” he mumbled as an avalanche of clutter poured out of the door.

“It’s under your bed next to the box you keep your dirty magazines in,” Twilight helpfully chirped. Seeing her brother burn scarlet was almost as good as the “surprise” he was probably planning.

Almost.

Shining Armor pushed his way into the abyss that was the underside of his bed and returned a moment later with a large, professional-looking case. He held it out for a moment with his magic and Twilight had to remind him that she was wearing a magic dampener. Blushing again, he went about setting up his little surprise. Twilight picked on him further when he had to refer to the instructions more than a few times.

“Well,” he grumbled, putting the last pin in place, “I’m not a professional stalker like you are, Twilie.” The telescope glimmered in the afternoon sunlight coming through the window like a shiny brass trophy. It was cleaned and oiled, just the way Twilight had left it the last time she’d indulged in her favorite hobby. “Can you manage it without magic?”

Twilight hopped down off the bed and pushed a box of spare junk that’d fallen out of Shining’s closet over so she could stand on it. “No problem.” She spun it around so that it was facing the correct direction, ignoring her brother’s snickering, and worked the dials as best she could with just her hooves. Years of practice helped her find her target easily.

Luck was on Twilight’s side today and the familiar feeling of awe chased away the lingering depression that had been holding on as her brother’s telescope captured Celestia on her balcony. The Ruler of Equestria spent many of her afternoons there, gazing out over the city. Shining’s room was perfect for Celestia-watching. It was on the right side of her parent’s tower and his window had an excellent view of the castle. Twilight spent many an hour here watching the ponies at the castle go about their business even when Celestia wasn’t around.

She wanted to be there. Twilight wanted to be one of those ponies so badly one day, working directly for the princess. Being in the castle. Being important. Being so much bigger than a little unicorn that had almost gotten into the Princess’s School. Her parents constantly told her that if she were a good student and stayed out of trouble then one day she might get to be a castle clerk or a steward. Looking at Celestia through the telescope, Twilight knew she’d never be happy with just being some clerk. She wanted to talk to the princess and be confided in.

I’ll give Twilight Sparkle one more chance to make it through this semester without a permanent administrative censor on her record. Important ponies didn’t have marks on their permanent records, did they?

“I can’t do anything right today, can I?” Shining Armor wondered out loud when Twilight pulled away from the telescope with a deep frown.

Twilight flinched. She’d forgotten her brother was there for a few moments. Normally she was alone when she raided his room for the telescope. “Sorry. I’m just thinking about things.”

Shining laughed. “Overthinking probably. Listen, don’t worry about mom and dad. I’ll talk to dad and see if you can’t ditch the ring here at the house. It won’t be so bad then, will it?”

“I think…I think that maybe I should wear it.” The words were out before Twilight had even thought about them, but they still sounded right. She licked her lips. “Maybe this will help me? I don’t want a mark on my record forever. I want to go there, Shining.” Twilight gestured at the telescope, too embarrassed to look her brother in the eye. “I know it’s stupid. ‘L-Little Twilight didn’t get in the first time, s-so she’s trying to…to get in however she c-can.’”

“It’s not stupid.” Shining Armor’s hoof nudged her head up. He was smiling. “Don’t let anyone tell you that it’s a stupid idea, Twilie. If you really want to do it, I’ll help you however I can.” His hoof snuck up to her head and ruffled her mane, which Twilight grumbled at. “But that means you have to ask me for help! No more welding ponies in lockers even if they do deserve it. Come get me; don’t get into fights.”

“I promise I will,” Twilight replied. She realized that she’d never really lost her friends – Shining Armor would always be there for her. “I’m sorry I called your guard thing stupid. I didn’t mean it. And don’t worry about the magazines – I won’t tell Mom and Dad you’re a pervert.”

As she booked it out of Shining’s room, Twilight felt happier than she had in months. Even being pelted by all the dirty laundry her flustered brother could throw at her was the best feeling in the world. Tomorrow would be a new day and she didn’t have to face it alone.

Author's Note

This is an experimental idea I came up with while I was struggling to update some other stuff. I say experimental because I've never sat down and mapped a fic before this one; usually I'll write off the cuff. Since my last update on anything was back in December, you can see that didn't really work out too well. I managed to do all this in about two and a half days, which is pretty good for my attention span. We'll see how long I can keep it up.

Chapter 2

“You two seem close this morning.”

Twilight nodded as she chewed the large bite of waffle she’d taken. “We’re walking to school together.”

Without missing a beat, Twight Velvet said, “Don’t talk with your mouth full.” She was surprised when her daughter actually clamped down and swallowed rather than saying something snippy. Velvet glanced over to her son, who had been uncharacteristically quiet. The pair had come to the table together, actually speaking civilly for what seemed like the first time in years.

Velvet didn’t want to jinx it by excessively prodding. “Well, I think that’s nice.” Wasn’t it? Surely Shining Armor wouldn’t let his sister pull him into anything that could get them in trouble. Velvet watched Twilight talk about some teacher with Shining and let her mind drift back to a time when she didn’t have to second-guess her children’s actions.

The den clock rang out, letting the two know they only had thirty minutes to make it to the high school. Twilight complained when Shining Armor made her leave her waffles unfinished, but remarkably the filly listened and left after a quick goodbye. She was even already wearing her dampening ring. Velvet had been mentally preparing for that fight since she got up.

Night Light stumbled into the kitchen with the morning paper floating behind him. “Did I just see our son and daughter willingly going to school together? How did you manage that?”

“It wasn’t me,” Velvet said, holding up her hooves. “They came down to the table thick as thieves, Shining helped Twilight fix her breakfast, and then they headed off. Did you see the ring on her? She put it on herself with no prompting.”

“Could be that not having her magic really worked,” Light offered as he sat down. He floated over the coffee pot to his wife. “Punishments are meant to correct behavior, after all. Perhaps Principal Crabapple had the right of it this time?”

Velvet gave her husband a look over the rim of her cup. “Look me in the eye and tell me that they’ve finally found the right punishment for our Twilight.” Light didn’t. The mare rolled her eyes and resumed downing her coffee. She couldn’t deny that it didn’t taste just a little bit better this morning when there was no accompanying argument about getting ready for school or fussing at the breakfast table. Velvet didn’t believe for a second that the punishment was actually working, but she would let things play their course. It was all she could do for her daughter at this point.

The walk to school turned out to be an awkward one for Twilight. Shining Armor had insisted on keeping an eye on his sister for as long as possible, but amidst the colt’s group of friends he picked up along the way Twilight felt out of place. Despite still being a great big closet nerd, her brother still had plenty of “normal” friends from the high school’s Royal Guard ROTC program. Twilight found herself unable to keep up with the conversation as it shifted from exercise routines to the latest Monstrous Manual update. How Shining Armor managed to keep his clutch of diverse friends happy was a mystery in and of itself.

Twilight did know one thing, though: Shining Armor’s friends seemed just as confused as she was. He hadn’t offered an explanation as to why his little sister was walking to school with him and Twilight hadn’t volunteered. For sure, the unicorns in the crowd recognized the heavy black magical dampening ring around her horn. Most were polite enough to not stare and the ones that weren’t Twilight stared back at, so their gaze didn’t linger long. In all, though, Twilight was happy when the school’s clock tower peeked out over the nearby rooftops and ecstatic when the campus itself came into view.

A large colt was waiting for Shining Armor at the gate. “Ready for El Diablo today, Armor?” he challenged. Twilight felt dwarfed by the massive mountain of iron grey that trotted over to her brother. A single one of his hooves was nearly half as big as Twilight was! Most of Shining Armor’s friends scattered when the stallion-sized pony broke into their group.

“You’re lucky, Traveller. I won’t be showing you up today.” Shining Armor was short in comparison next to the earth pony, but he was wearing an easy smile. “Have to look out for my little sis for a few days, but I’ll be back to kicking you around the field in no time.”

“If wishes were ribbons you’d already be General of the Army, Armor,” Traveller grunted. He looked down at Twilight with not a little irritation and the filly shifted until she was standing behind her brother.

Twilight gave him a nudge. “You can go to your guard thing, Shining. I can walk home by myself.”

“Twilie, I said I’d help you out and I will. ROTC can wait.”

“But—”

Traveller brought his hoof down. Ponies that had been walking around the trio blocking the gate nearly jumped out of their horseshoes. “For Celestia’s sake, just bring her with you! It’d be great to have an audience for your day of reckoning.” Traveller leaned in, smirking. “Unless, of course, you don’t want ‘widdle sister’ telling all her friends about how you’re gonna give up half way through the course. I can understand that.”

“It’s up to Twilight,” Shining Armor muttered.

Twilight poked her head out from around her brother’s leg. “Fine by me! It’ll be good to watch my brother run circles around you!”

“I’m going to feel so guilty stomping all over that great opinion your little sister has of you. See you on the field, Armor. Or beside it when you give up and join the others on the sideline watching a legend like me.” Traveller gave the smaller colt a hard poke with his giant hoof before heading back toward the school building.

Shining Armor rubbed his chest. “Sorry about that, Twilight. Traveller’s only that bad near the physicals.” He glanced up at the giant school clock overhead; it was nearly time for homeroom. “Okay, so you’re sure you don’t mind hanging out at the field while I do my ROTC stuff? I’m going to warn you: it can get pretty boring.”

Twilight shrugged. “I’d just go home and watch television anyway. Now I’ll get to see what you find so exciting about marching around some muddy field.” She thought for a moment. “And you better not lose to that guy! I have a reputation around here, you know—”

“As a bully.”

“—and I can’t have my big brother losing to everyone that comes along. You’ve got to beat him by at least fifty points,” Twilight said, closing her eyes and nodding. “No less, got that?”

Her brother rolled his eyes. “They don’t even use points, Twilie.” Shining Armor looked around for a moment, making sure no other pony was nearby, before putting a front leg around Twilight’s neck and pulling her into a huddle. “Don’t forget what we talked about yesterday. I’m here for you. If you get in trouble, or someone starts messing with you, come and get me. Don’t blast them, don’t throw them up into a tree, and don’t turn them into frogs or anything else. Get a teacher or get me.”

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” she said, slipping out of her brother’s grasp. “No more getting into trouble. I promised you, didn’t I?”

“You did. If that’s still not enough, remember that this is your last chance at still getting into the castle when you’re older. The princess won’t ever want to meet a filly with a mark on her permanent record.” The colt smiled at Twilight’s suspicious look. “Not joking. It’s even listed in the super-secret guard handbook all of us get.”

That was all the silliness Twilight could take. “Get to class, goofball,” she said, slipping out of her brother’s grasp. “I’ll see you after school on the field.”

“You’ll see me before then if you have any trouble,” Shining corrected, but Twilight was already trotting off toward the schoolhouse. She threw a “sure thing” over her shoulder right before the door closed behind her.

Canterlot High, though only one of many high schools in the capital, was the primary school for the district closest to the capital. As one of the smaller districts, the school had the younger grades on the same campus. For the most part it was no trouble. The kinds of families these ponies came from didn’t lend themselves to troublemakers. Mostly.

Twilight spotted Curly Cumulous hanging outside her classroom door. They locked eyes for a brief moment as Twilight walked by and Cumulous seemed to have learned her lesson. She went stiff when the smaller unicorn passed, quiet and eyes full of distrust. Twilight didn’t say anything and Cumulous didn’t either. It was one of their better exchanges.

She made it to her desk with five whole minutes to spare. For any other pony that would be cutting it too close, but Twilight didn’t like spending more time in school than she had to – barring magic class. Only unicorns got to go to magic class and they were even taught by a different teacher. That wasn’t until the end of the day, though. To get to that one bright spot Twilight had to suffer through Math, Science, Modern Equestrian, and History. She wasn’t good at things like that and her teacher, Miss May Showers, liked to call on her a lot.

There were whispers, too. Twilight and the rest of her class didn’t really get along. She’d gotten into fights in grades past with foals of similar temperament to herself and any new students were quickly pulled aside and given the what’s-what about Twilight. It didn’t bother her, though. She didn’t share any interests with the other kids. None of them, not even the unicorns, cared about magic or the castle or books.

Twilight wondered if that would change when she graduated Elementary. Junior High was supposed to be different, what with the shifting class schedule and stuff. Before her talk with Shining Armor it’d been the only thing left to look forward to. Caught up as she was in ideas of working at the castle one day, it seemed like such a silly thing to be looking forward to.

It was that happy future thought that got Twilight through the periods before lunch. She couldn’t answer three questions the teacher asked her, got back a D+ on a math worksheet, and probably made much the same on a pop Equestrian History quiz, but Twilight was happy when she trotted out of the classroom at the lunch bell. Miss May Showers hadn’t needed to give her even a single demerit all morning and the day was already half up.

The lunchroom of the school was sprawling. There was enough floor space to comfortably seat half a thousand students at time with chairs and tables to match. Twilight’s class ate with a dozen more during the second of the lunch periods and one could barely hear one’s self think over the clatter of the crowd.

Twilight was one of the first in her group to reach the lunch line. Without thinking, she tried to magic a tray and cup over to her before the inhibitor ring put a stop to that. Slowly, she gathered the items by hoof and began to push her tray along the metal tray track with her snout. That was significantly less fun, as was the snickering from the other students behind her. Twilight clenched her teeth and pushed the tray along and the mare working behind the counter slapped down a paper plate of greens. The unicorn pried her mouth open to clumsily carry the tray, plate, and glass with her to the nearest possible table as smoothly as possible. Now a great many ponies had stopped to stare and each step was a slowly-stretching rubber band of dread that could snap at any moment and make a complete idiot of her.

A free table was in sight. Twilight’s jaw was starting to tremble from the effort of keeping everything balanced and she made a beeline toward it. Five steps, four steps, three steps; Twilight was already shifting to slide the chair out when there was a flash of beige on the lower edge of her vision. Something soft and downy hit her front legs hard and tangled them just enough for Twilight to stumble. She let out a grunt and with it came her tray, her food, and her glass of orange juice. The beginnings of gasps and giggles were coming from all around as her lunch sailed through the air.

Suddenly, the tray caught midair, surrounded by a light blue magic. The glass, though, was still falling. Twilight clenched her teeth and pushed with all her might. An incredibly sharp pain blossomed from her horn, but the juice did not hit the ground; it floated just a few inches from shattering in Twilight’s wispy, familiar orchid magical grasp. She let out a ragged sigh as it came to rest on the cafeteria floor with a soft clink rather than a crash.

Hearing that clink, though, made Twilight realize how silent her part of the room had gotten. She looked up, fully expecting to see disappointment on the faces of the students who had wanted something new to talk about, but instead came face-to-chest with a tall pink unicorn. Twilight’s food, all back on the plate and looking like it hadn’t just been flying through the air, floated beside her.

The older unicorn helped Twilight stand all the way up. “Nice save,” she said, magically picking the glass up and setting it back on the tray as well. “Are you alright? Did you hurt anything?”

“I’m fine.” Twilight wasn’t fine. The pain behind her horn was only just starting to fade and it still throbbed in waves of pain that rolled all the way down to her hooves. Twilight wouldn’t show it, though. The students were all staring at the tall unicorn now – all but one: a very familiar pegasus that had turned back to her food.

Twilight took a step toward the table. “You should thank my big brother, Curly. If I didn’t promise him I wouldn’t, I’d put you someplace that would take the janitor a whole day to find!” She saw the beige pegasus shiver at that and the pain behind her eyes was replaced by a righteous indignation. Curly had started this. She was the reason everyone was probably laughing at her right now.

A pink wing flapped out to bar her way. Twilight’s gaze followed the appendage all the way back up to the pink unicorn’s back. Somehow she’d missed them before; probably because of the horn.

“You’re a…a…”

“I’m Cadence. Want to sit with me?”

Numbly, Twilight nodded. Now she understood what everyone was looking at. Twilight had heard that there was an alicorn at the school, but this was the first time she’d ever seen her. Cadence was even talking to her! A real princess wanted to eat lunch with her!

Cadence led the way to her table and put Twilight’s tray down right next to her. There were a few other ponies around them, but they were already getting up. Twilight opened her mouth to stop them, to somehow tell them that they didn’t need to leave, but Cadence was already waving them goodbye. She caught Twilight’s eye back and winked. “I’m sorry about Curly. She’s honestly nice and sweet, but sometimes some of her friends can get her into trouble.”

“She started it,” Twilight instantly snapped. “She took my books and wouldn’t give them back and—!”

“Whoa, whoa! I wasn’t blaming you! I’m apologizing for her.”

Twilight made a sour face. “She should say it herself. And she tripped me!”

“She did. I’m sorry about that, too.”

“Well, you don’t need to be sorry. You don’t need to be anything,” Twilight said, shifting in her seat. She wondered what the alicorn wanted with her. Cadence said that she was trying to apologize for Curly Cumulous, but no one had ever apologized before so why would they start now? “What do you want from me?”

Twilight’s bluntness put the princess on the back foot for a moment. “I…well, that is…” She sighed. “I noticed your inhibitor ring.” Cadence received a blank look from the small unicorn. “I noticed you do magic while wearing it,” she said, as if that explained everything. “I didn’t want Curly to get hurt.”

So that was it – Cadence thought she was just a bully. In a way, that made more sense to Twilight than all the fake niceness. “I wasn’t really going to do anything,” Twilight muttered.

“A promise to your big brother, right?” Twilight shrugged, looking back to her food. “That’s sweet of him to look out for you like that. He must be a special pony.”

“He’s just my brother. I guess he is kinda special, but I don’t want to get a mark on my record either.”

“That’s awfully mature of you. It’s good to try and get along with others: it’s how you make friends.”

Twilight shook her head. “I don’t care about friends. I just can’t ever work at the castle if I get a mark on my record. It’s all I ever…” She looked back to Cadence. The alicorn was not-so-subtly leaning back from the table to get a glance behind Twilight. “There’s nothing back there. I’m a blank flank.”

Cadence snapped back upright, but it was clear she’d been caught. “Sorry,” she said.

“Whatever. Everyone else stares at a pony my age not having a cutie mark, so go ahead and get a good look.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. You just sounded like a different pony when you talked about working at the castle. I wanted to get an idea of what you hoped to do there one day.”

Twilight flinched and went back to pretending to be interested in her food. She felt bad for snapping at Cadence. “I tried to get into Princess Celestia’s school,” she admitted, deciding to try and carry the conversation to make up for it. “The entrance exam was hatching a dragon egg, but I didn’t pass. They said I wasn’t talented enough.”

“Not talented enough? Really?” Twilight glumly nodded. “Well, I think you’re a very skilled young unicorn. I’m sure that, if you reapply in a year or two, you’ll definitely get into my aunt’s school.”

“Princess Celestia is your aunt?” Twilight couldn’t believe that. Well, the horn and the wings made it a possibility, but to be eating lunch with the niece of the princess! It was more than Twilight could take. “Oh, what’s she like? Have you ever seen her raise the sun? Is it like it is at the Summer Sun Celebration? That was the most wonderful, most amazing thing I’ve ever seen!”

Cadence, caught sleeping by Twilight’s sudden transformation, could only mutter half-answers while she was bombarded by more and more questions about Celestia. She had met many, many ponies that wanted to know more about their ruler, but none had been quite so exuberant about it before. The little purple unicorn was like an entirely different pony when she talked about her princess, though – not at all the crazed terror that Curly had warned her about. A sudden spark of inspiration hit Cadence then and she put a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder, stopping the flow of questions for a moment.

“Where will you be after school today,” she interrupted. “Are you going straight home or are you part of a club?”

“What? Oh, I’m, uh, going to be out on the athletics field with my big brother. He’s in the school ROTC program.”

The pink alicorn whisked her tray off the table. “Great! I’ll see you then – don’t go home until I get a chance to see you again, alright?” She didn’t give Twilight a chance to agree or disagree because she was already trotting to the door, leaving Twilight bewildered, confused, and the target of many of lunch’s remaining conversations.

Ten minutes later when the bell rang, Twilight went back to class with the rest of the students. Twilight knew that they were probably just as confused about the school’s most famous student taking such an interest in her as she was, so she didn’t let the stares bother her. Instead, she put it out of her mind. Cadence had said she’d catch up after school, so whatever it was the pink alicorn wanted would probably come out then. Right now, though, it was time for something much, much better: Magic Class!

Twilight’s teacher, May Showers, dismissed all the students to their special classes after they’d gotten back to their desks: pegasi got to go to flight class, earth ponies went outside for PE, and the unicorns gathered their Basics of Magic books and went down the hall to Mr. Clearwater’s classroom at the end of the hall.

As always, Twilight was the first through the door. Mr. Clearwater had an entire lecture hall for his class since, like lunch, several other classes sent their students in during the same period. The old unicorn teacher was rummaging around by his desk, but his ear flicked when he heard the door open. Twilight gave a happy, “Good afternoon, Professor Clearwater!” before taking her usual seat at the front.

“Still not a professor, Miss Sparkle,” Clearwater said, just the same as he did every day.

Twilight smiled. Some things would never change and calling Clearwater “Professor Clearwater” was one of those things. With the big lecture hall and his insistence on wearing suits to class, it seemed natural for a nervous young unicorn to call her very first magic teacher that.

When the wizened teacher did finally emerge from his hunt – a fresh piece of chalk was triumphantly floating beside him – his eyes quickly sought out Twilight’s horn. He frowned at the sight of the ring there. “Miss Sparkle,” he said, shifting his gaze down to the filly’s eyes, “what is the purpose of magic?”

Twilight sighed and stared down at the top of her desk. It was hard to get the words out. “Magic is a helpful tool,” she mumbled.

“And was welding someone into a locker using magic being helpful?”

Twilight couldn’t help herself. “Well, I didn’t have a blowtorch handy,” she quipped.

Clearwater grunted and Twilight couldn’t tell if he was choking down a laugh or not. Regardless, his answer was forestalled by the arrival of the other students who chose to loiter about until the bell. Giving Twilight one last stern look, the teacher broke their conversation to write the lesson plan on the chalkboard. That last look, though, ruined whatever good mood Twilight had. Disappointing the principal or even her parents somehow didn’t compare to her magic teacher.

Magic was the one talent she had and her teacher thought she’d misused it.

Guiltily, Twilight fished her note-taking supplies out of her saddlebags and started transcribing. The experience in writing with her mouth throughout the day helped keep up with the notes Clearwater was putting up. Practices were impossible to follow, though. Twilight had to sit quietly while the rest of the class got to practice levitating eggs to fine-tune their magical control. Twilight could already juggle a whole carton of eggs without breaking a single one, so she didn’t feel too bad about being left out. It was still galling to be so excluded from her favorite class, but Twilight didn’t want to risk trying anymore magic so long as the ring was on.

Clearwater stayed after class for a bit to help Twilight get her books and things packed away. He didn’t comment on her punishment or offer anymore reminders on the proper use of magic. Twilight nearly wished that he would, though. The silence was a sharp break from their usual banter about magic and spells.

“It’s not nearly so bad,” he suddenly said as Twilight’s quill magically flew into her saddlebag. “Being without magic, that is. Some of the greatest unicorns I know are the most helpless without their magic. Learning how to go without something that you take for granted each day can be an interesting experience. It makes you appreciate having it in the first place.”

“Well, I guess. I can still do magic, though – it just hurts with the ring on.”

The teacher stopped his sorting of Twilight’s saddlebag. He craned his head, not looking at Twilight but at the ring snuggly resting around the base of her horn. “That’s a Habersham. It’s rated for adult unicorns that have trouble controlling their magic when they sleep,” Clearwater muttered to himself. “What magical range do you have with it on?”

Twilight gave him a small shrug. “I caught a glass of orange juice earlier with my magic,” she said. Thinking about it, Twilight realized that perhaps she’d made a mistake mentioning it at all. The ring was supposed to be a punishment; would she get into trouble for still casting magic? Clearwater seemed more curious than anything, but would he tell the principal?

He was quiet for a long moment. “As a teacher at this school, I should report this,” he said, making Twilight’s blood turn to ice water for a moment, “but as your teacher I should probably commend you.” A deep sigh came from the unicorn as he walked over to his desk and fell into his chair. “You have talent, Twilight, but you are not using it. Where is your direction? Putting other students in lockers, not doing your best in other classes, getting into trouble constantly – you need to think about what someone with your skills should be aiming toward in life.”

The conversation was wandering unnervingly close to the one Twilight had with Cadence. “You know that the Princess’s School didn’t want me,” she shot back. Twilight glared at the old unicorn, but she wasn’t seeing him. She was seeing those examiners that had told her she wasn’t good enough - wasn’t talented enough. “Everyone keeps saying I’m talented, but they didn’t want me! Why should I believe any of you?”

“I have been teaching for twenty years. Don’t question my evaluation of your skills.” Clearwater returned the look he was getting with one of his own – he won handily and Twilight pretended to look at a poster on the wall. It was the same look her mother could deliver when Twilight would say something monumentally exasperating, only three-fold. “If I say you’re talented then by Celestia you are talented. I can’t imagine the particulars of your personal entrance examination, but I tell you now that they were fools for not begging you to attend.”

“That’s even worse!” Twilight spat. “It was better when I thought I wasn’t good enough, but now you want me to think I didn’t get in because of some mix-up! Why me? Why didn’t they mess up with some other pony!? Why is it always me that has to go through things like this?”

Being a veteran of dealing with cranky and petulant fillies and colts, Clearwater gave an unrepentantly mundane shrug, sinking even farther back into his chair. “Because they decided to change the test for a day and you were the lucky test subject? Or perhaps you looked at one of them wrong while they were explaining the test?” The stallion snorted. “Getting angry at life for being unfair is the same as getting angry at the sun for shining.”

That was helpful. Twilight considered telling her teacher just what she thought of that, but only for the fleetest of moments. She would have enough trouble getting through the rest of the school year with just the staff that already disliked her; no need to add to it. “I’ll keep that in mind, Professor.”

“No you won’t,” Clearwater said, scoffing. “At your age you think that every little roadblock is some raging river that cannot be forded. We’ve known each other for some time now, Twilight Sparkle. I know precisely what you’ll do: you’ll continue to let your doubts and fears fester until someone comes along and lances all that unpleasantness out.” He slapped his hoof down the table, making Twilight jump. The stallion seemed almost amused, now, coming out of whatever dark mood had originally gripped him. “You’re doing better, though. The little unicorn I knew only a week ago would still be spitting fire and brimstone at having to wear that ineffective little bauble.”

“I’m still mad about it,” she muttered.

“I’m sensing there is a ‘but’ somewhere after that.”

Twilight shifted. “I just want to work at the castle, with the princess and all the other important ponies. Princess Celestia wouldn’t hire troublemakers.”

Clearwater clicked his teeth. “So, you want to be an ‘important pony’ working in the government. That certainly is a vague goal, but it is a goal nonetheless. I dare say you are on the right track. Certainly, they would look over your school records.” The old teacher let his murmurs trail off and his eyes once again began studying Twilight. She didn’t like the renewed attention; nothing good ever came from teachers paying too much attention to you. “I still have a few friends that went on to better and brighter things than I,” he suddenly piped. “Ponies who did achieve their dreams instead of just settling. If you can keep up this newfound conviction, I could be persuaded to speak with them about opportunities. Some of them are quite highly placed in the castle.”

An image flashed through Twilight’s mind: one of her, older, trotting alongside the princess with a daily schedule grasped firmly in her magic. The filly indulged for a moment before forcing the daydream away, letting suspicion fill the gap it’d left. “Why would you do that for me?”

“Why not? If you get your act together it’s less of a burden for the school, you get a good chance in life, and the castle gets a good prospective employee. Everyone wins.”

Everyone wins. Twilight dared to take that at face value. “I’ll try my best,” she said, thinking back to how Curly Cumulous had tripped her in the lunchroom. She’d very nearly gotten herself back in trouble for that one; it wasn’t going to be easy to get through the school year without getting into another fight.

Clearwater nodded. “All one can do is try, Twilight Sparkle. Take the rest of the semester, while you will be busy not getting into trouble, and think about what it is you want to do at the castle.” He waved his hoof in the general direction of Twilight’s blank flank. “I know that will be difficult given your particular circumstance—”

Before the teacher could get further into that embarrassing topic school bells shrilly rang out and the hallways suddenly filled with the voices of fillies and colts happy to be free for the day. “Lost track of time,” Clearwater admitted. “Well, we can finish this talk some other time I suppose. Don’t worry about missing your final homeroom of the day – I’ll go apologize to your teacher for keeping you so long.”

Twilight didn’t argue. She haphazardly dumped her remaining books into her saddlebag and struggled to get it up on her back without magic. A few book edges poked her in the ribs, but she managed well enough to escape the “blank flank” lecture she was sure Clearwater wanted to give. The old unicorn had good advice, and Twilight had to admit that his offer to talk to some of his castle friends made her heart skip a beat, but hearing other ponies talk about her lack of a cutie mark always soured her mood.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Professor!” Twilight shouted over her shoulder as she galloped out of the room. Clearwater’s return call of, “Still not a Professor,” was nearly lost in the din of afterschool conversation out in the halls. Unlike lunch, everyone was dismissed at the same time so navigating the crowds could be tricky, doubly-so since she was going the way opposite of the main doors. She got a few nasty comments from ponies who weren’t watching where they were going and ended up getting knocked by her unruly saddlebag and with it as her battering ram she soon reached the large double doors that led to the other buildings.

There were crowds of students milling around outside, but no one took notice of the little unicorn as she broke from the pack. It was a nice day out: only a few great puffy clouds broke the unending sea of blue overhead. Twilight usually didn’t have much to do with the outdoors, but she could appreciate a nice day like today. Not too hot, not too windy; perfect summer weather.

The rest of the school’s athletic clubs seemed to be of the same opinion because they were out in force. Twilight passed the soccer team heading out for afterschool practice and she could see the hoofball team in their field, running back and forth between the goalposts like they’d had too much sugar at lunch. Dressed in their humongous mountains of padding and stark colors, the galloping could be heard even above the various bells still ringing in the schoolhouse and the buzz of conversations under the sun.

She skirted the edge of the field, not entirely trusting that she wouldn’t be run over by some errant hoofball player. The school ROTC met on one of the smaller fields past the ones used for the sports teams. Even at this distance it was easy to see why – most of the chalked-off space was taken up with an enormous obstacle course complete with artificial hills, sheer walls, and what looked like a swamp filled with muddy water.

“There’s our audience, Armor, and just in time for the show!” Twilight instantly recognized the voice, but even if she hadn’t the earth pony that thundered just a hair’s length past her at that moment would have jogged her memory. Standing next to Traveller when he’d been still was intimidating; having the massive horse dash past her in a flat run was terrifying. She leapt back far, far too late to avoid the shower of grass bits and dirt clods that followed in his wake.

A few breaths behind Traveller came Shining Armor. He was breathing hard as he galloped up to her and his coat was gleaming with sweat. He favored her with a look of abashed sympathy as Twilight shook out her mane.

“I can talk in a few minutes,” he said, only slowing a bit. “Sorry, but Commander Coalmane is smoking us. You can wait wherever you want, but just keep an eye out and don’t get hurt.”

It was a short explanation which left more questions than answers, but before she could ask them a new voice thundered out over all the noise. “Are you having trouble staying focused, Armor?”

Shining Armor broke out in a run again. “Sir, no sir! Completely focused, sir!”

Standing in the middle of the field, in the space between the obstacle course circle, was the largest unicorn Twilight had ever seen. Compared to him, Traveller seemed like a lanky teenager who still had a growth spurt or five to look forward to. Coat as black as his namesake, the only spot of contrasting color on the commander was his age-grayed mane and beard.

Twilight crossed the track as quickly as she could as a crowd of stragglers galloped past. She’d been joking earlier about her brother having to win, but she was surprised to see that he was only a couple of lengths behind Traveller and a good deal ahead of the odd-dozen or so other colts. Bewildered by the evidence that perhaps Shining Armor wasn’t quite so goofy at everything, and watching him try and scamper over an earthen wall, she unthinkingly stepped right up beside Coalmane, shrugged off her heavy saddlebag, and plopped down on her flank.

“I didn’t say you could sit. On your feet,” he snapped, stomping one of his hooves down close to Twilight. She was jumpy from nearly getting tramped by Traveller, so she was up on her feet in an instant.

“Legs straight. You’re not a camel, are you? Lock those knees. Square your shoulders. Eyes front, snout out.” Twilight felt foolish as she struggled with the directions, but she was far too addled to give any serious thought to not doing them. “Hooves are too wide in the front and your neck isn’t right, but it’s passable,” Coalmane said. “Permission granted to sit on my field.”

She felt her cheeks burn as her rump went back to the grass. “That was so stupid,” she murmured.

“That was proper discipline.” He looked up from his clipboard and floated a stopwatch out from his vest pocket. “That’s enough of a rest for you, Sparkle. If you sit on my field you have to work on my field. Get ready to tell me some times.”

The watch hovered between her eyes for a moment. “But I’m not here for ROTC,” she stammered, “and I just sat down!”

“But you’re waiting on my field. You wait, you work.” He didn’t wait for another comment and dropped the stopwatch. Reflexively, Twilight caught its string in her mouth before it could hit the ground. Coalmane took that as the end of the argument and walked off at a brisk trot toward the line that marked the beginning of the course.

“How did you know my name?” Twilight asked when she caught up.

“Armor may have mentioned his sister visiting my fine obstacle course today. Said you were a real troublemaker and that I should keep my eye on you.” Twilight could only just see the faintest hint of a smile pulling at the huge stallion’s lips as she plodded along behind him. “I told him that I’d bust you into shape.”

Twilight looked across the field. Her brother was just coming around the bend, nostrils flared and chest heaving. The crowd of ponies that had been so far behind him when she’d first arrived was hot on his hooves; Traveller had also widened his lead.

“Call out the time as they come across the line,” Coalmane ordered, pencil at the ready.

Twilight struggled with all the numbers so close together as ponies spilled past the splotchy white chalk on the ground. Traveller was a good two seconds ahead of everyone else and, to her disappointment, Shining Armor was neatly in the middle of the pack. The white unicorn made a kind of half-grunt in greeting when he shambled up to Twilight. He wobbled for a second and she felt bad for him, especially since Traveller was walking over.

She sucked in a breath. “You leave my brother alone, you—”

Over all the heavy breathing and chatter Traveller hadn’t heard her. “You beat me coming out of the first corner! How did you manage that?”

Shining shrugged, grinning. “Good breakfast, lots of sleep, and not being so ugly that the wind fights back when I run into it.”

The huge colt grinned. “They aren’t lookin’ at my face when it matters, Armor, and next time you won’t even get that jump on me. You’ll have to think up some better insults.” Amazingly, to Twilight, that was the end of the conversation. Traveller was called over by some of the others and he plodded away.

Twilight shook her head. “Are you two actually friends? Even after this morning?”

“That? I told you that it was just finals' jitters getting to him. He needs an outlet to get it out of his system and I’m his friend.” Someone called out Shining Armor’s name and his ear flicked. “Can you give me a minute, Twilie? I’ll be right back.”

She was just starting to mutter a “sure” when her brother walked off. Just as well - Twilight was having trouble registering the words that had come out of Shining’s mouth. Friend? Jitters? If anyone had taunted her like Traveller had taunted Shining Armor then they’d have gotten a one-way trip to a locker. She watched, though, as her brother spoke with the other ponies, talking to them about their times and their runs. Each one was just as friendly as Traveller had been. Had her brother always been so social?

A heavy hoof fell beside her. “He’s a natural leader,” Coalmane said, looking across the shapeless unit at Shining Armor. “He wasn’t at first, but I dragged it out of him kicking and screaming. I’m sure he hated me at first.”

Her brother a natural leader? She tried to remember back to when he was the awkward, introverted big brother she so often labeled him. That colt didn’t measure up to the one going from one conversation to the next, bringing smiles, laughs, and encouragement with him.

“If he didn’t like it, why did he keep doing it?”

Coalmane looked down at her. His gaze was flat, but there was a hint of something behind those brown eyes – something that almost physically grabbed her. “He wanted to change. He begged me for the chance to change the type of horse he was.” The stallion’s head swiveled back to the crowd of tired colts and Twilight was free. “I can’t change what isn’t already there. No one can. The leader was just always inside your brother; he just had to want to break out hard enough. All I did was make a few cracks in the shell.”

Twilight opened her mouth to say…something. She didn’t know what, but it was there, dancing on the tip of her tongue, but before it could take that leap it was interrupted.

“There you are, Twilight! I almost didn’t see you!”

Even Coalmane jumped in surprise. He spun around like a top that’d just had its string pulled, looking quite foolish when all he came face-to-face with was a young, pink, alicorn princess. Cadence, smiling serenely, gave a nod to the flustered ROTC commander. “Sorry about the scare, Sergeant. I thought you heard me walk up.”

Twilight was sure she heard the stallion’s jaw grind as his mouth shut and his face went back to neutral. She hadn’t thought that Coalmane was capable of a shocked expression, but it had been burned onto his face for a good three-count when Cadence had announced herself. “Always a pleasure, Princess,” he muttered, bowing his head.

“None of that, Sergeant. You know you’re retired.” She stepped up to Twilight and frowned at the thin layer of dirt and dust covering the tiny unicorn. Abashed, Twilight started brushing herself off. “Did you have her running with the boys?” Cadence wondered, her wing stretching out to help. The pink pinions didn’t do very much but tickle, though.

Twilight shuffled away from the feathery appendage. “It’s just a little dirt,” she said. “Not like it’ll kill me. It’s actually pretty fun out here.”

Cadence shot a glance at the sergeant. “Is that right? Well, as long as you’re having a good time.” The princess flicked her head, motioning. “I see you’re not having any trouble with your magic anymore.”

Twilight turned and looked. The clipboard and watch Coalmane had wanted her to carry were floating a few inches away. She’d dropped them from her mouth when Cadence had made her appearance and she didn’t remember picking them back up. “I didn’t notice,” she said, voice full of wonder. Slowly, so very slowly, she magically shook them – no headache! If she focused, the effects of the inhibitor ring were still noticeable, but it was muted like the way a bruise would throb after a day or so of healing.

“I thought you’d slipped it off,” Coalmane admitted, looking at Cadence. “Aren’t those rings designed for unicorns that have trouble controlling their magic when they’re asleep? Shouldn’t it be more difficult for her to get past it?”

“She’s a very talented girl. Especially now since” - Cadence gave Twilight a wink - “she’s not making so much trouble.”

Twilight felt herself blush. She’d never gotten this much attention before, at least not without other ponies laughing at her first. “It’s all thanks to Shining Armor,” she murmured. She looked for the stallion and found him a few dozen feet away, still talking with his friends. When he laughed at some unheard joke, Twilight had to smile with him.

Cadence’s wings came up and cupped around her muzzle. “Shi~ning Ar~mor!” The call was loud enough to rattle Twilight’s teeth; even Coalmane flinched. The pink alicorn was smiling, though, and waved her hooves when Shining uncovered his ears. “Come over here for a second!”

“What was that for?” Twilight asked. She flapped her ears a few times and the ringing was still there.

“Well, I just want to meet this brother of yours. I think he’ll also be interested in the gift I want to give you.”

Twilight’s attention caught on gift like a fish on a hook. “What gift?” she asked, but Cadence only gave her a coy smile and stepped up to introduce herself to a very star-struck Shining Armor. The colt was trying, and failing, to get his whole name out and she rolled her eyes. Shining Armor could be so silly sometimes.

“She already knows your name, Shining. Just say ‘hello’ to her.”

“Hel—”

A loud pop saved the stallion from further embarrassment. Cadence let out a happy coo when the sealed scroll landed softly on the grass by her hooves. “There it is! I was worried she wouldn’t be able to get to it today.” She looked to Twilight with a bright smile. “Well? Go on! Open it!”

A scroll was a gift? Twilight felt her lips purse as she floated the letter over. It was bad manners to show any kind of disappointment with a gift, and she was trying to be a nicer pony, but she’d really wanted a new spell book. Maybe something with super alicorn spells, or some kind of princess-only mystic ceremonies, or even…even…something…

The letter quivered in her grip. There, on the red wax seal holding it shut, was a tiny picture of an alicorn circling the sun. It was the same image displayed so proudly over the castle battlements that Twilight had seen so often through her brother’s telescope; the same image that had been hanging in her room ever since the first time she’d gone to the Summer Sun Celebration.

Reverently Twilight broke that seal. As the words revealed themselves to her, there was little she could do but read and be swept away in a current there was no hope to control. By the third paragraph, her legs had given out; by the fifth, her composure. When she finally carefully rolled the letter back up, she was crying.

Cadence dropped a wing over her back and settled down beside her on the grass. “Was it a good gift?” she asked, soft as silk.

“The best,” Twilight sniffed.

Shining Armor walked over and flopped down as well. He gave her a bump with his shoulder. “Must have been one heck of a letter to get my tough sister mushy.” Twilight shoved him back and he smiled. “You can’t leave us in suspense, Twilie. Can you read it for me?”

Twilight looked at the letter. She’d been clutching onto it like one of her stuffed animals and there was dirt and grass stains on the ends. Reluctantly, she loosed her grip and floated it up so that both Cadence and Shining Armor could see it. “It’s from the Princess,” she said, still sniffing a bit, but she cleared her throat and began to read.

Dear Twilight Sparkle,

One can imagine my surprise at receiving a hastily written letter from my niece, informing me that my most devoted and talented subject is a unicorn named Twilight Sparkle, a fourth-grade student at Canterlot High. While I do not doubt Cadence’s judgment in these matters, perhaps she is being a bit overly enthusiastic? I would think the thing most ten year olds would be devoted to would be radio adventure dramas or hoofball; somehow I doubt that a simple letter from me would brighten your day as Cadence says it would. On the off chance that Cadence is not exaggerating, allow me to say that I am both flattered and humbled. From what she says, you are a talented young filly that is full of life and vim and vigor – just the traits that I admire in ponies.

Cadence also writes that you are set upon working at the castle. I cannot tell you what a joy it is that young ponies wish to take up the mantle of public service. Not a single day goes by that I do not hear Sol Shard, my prime minister, lament about “the do-nothing generation” of ponies. Now I can show him Cadence’s letter and say that there is some hope for the future.

I find, now, that I must ask for your forgiveness on behalf of my niece. She included in her letter a passing mention of your recent troubles at school. It is not her place – nor mine – to involve ourselves in your life. We are not aware of the particular circumstances of your life, thus we cannot judge. She has most likely pushed her way into the middle of it and for that I apologize to you; I can only promise that what was included in her letter will be seen by none other than myself (between us, though, coalescing metals is quite impressive, even if you did not use it for the purest of endeavors).

Regardless of all that, perhaps it is my place to say that what a pony does in their adolescence is not usually held against them when they apply to the castle. Certainly it helps to have a good record, but a few youthful indiscretions will not be cause for too much alarm. In fact, Cadence tells me that your brother is part of the local ROTC at your school: ask Sergeant Coalmane if he still remembers spray painting the east wall of the castle gardens. I am sure that behind some bush or another one of his colorful illustrations survives on to this very day! He was nearly a more talented artist than a guard; I encouraged him time and time again when he was a royal guard to take back up his talent, but he seemed to regard it as a frivolous dalliance. Imagine that!

That is an oddity to us, is it not? So many of my little ponies concentrate so diligently on their special talent that they can act like blinders. Imagine, Twilight, a pony with a pottery cutie mark. He spends his life in front of the potter’s wheel and the kiln and finally he makes the perfect pot. Naturally, he should feel fulfilled, yes? But for all his work, he never put time into creating friendships or finding a family of his own to celebrate his accomplishment. Would not having anyone to celebrate his work dull his sense of fulfillment? Often we become so fixated on one single door of opportunity that, when it closes on us, we miss the hundreds of other doors in the hallway. A pony could spend a lifetime sitting outside of that door, staring at it, kicking at it, cursing it, and let their life pass them by.

Perhaps that is saying too much, prying too much, but I find myself not wanting to strike it out. Do not allow yourself to sit in front of that door, Twilight Sparkle. It has closed, but there are dozens upon dozens more waiting for you to open them. With your talent and drive, how could they remain shut?

I look forward to one day seeing you outside one of those doors; you can tell me then if my advice had any merit.

Sincerely,
Princess Celestia

Twilight let out a sigh as she finished reading, her breath fogging the glass frame of her most treasured possession. The words had been engraved into her heart years ago and now she found joy in picking out each and every grass stain on the old letter, remembering with vivid clarity that day Cadence, Shining Armor, and Coalmane had sat on the ROTC field and read a hastily-penned letter from Princess Celestia herself.

“It saved my life,” she said. Behind her, standing in her bedroom’s doorway, Shining Armor simply grinned. “I still can’t believe that Cadence got Princess Celestia to write me a personal letter; I’ll never pay her back for that.”

“You don’t need to, Twilie. Friends don’t have to do gift reimbursements. Besides, you gave her the greatest gift of all, right? You introduced her to yours truly.”

The unicorn rolled her eyes. “I’ve got to pay her back for that, too. I’m so in debt with Cadence that I’ll never get out of the red.”

Shining Armor gave an exaggerated chuckle and stomped into the room. “A million comedians in Equestria and I’m stuck with you. Too bad that razor wit didn’t help you with El Diablo. I heard you almost drowned in the mud pit.”

“Following your lead, Shining. Well, until it came time to actually break a record. I had to improvise from there – you understand, right?” She turned and held a hoof up to her chin. “Or not. I remember your time.”

“Funny. Records are one thing, but there’s something you can’t take from me.” His horn lit and Twilight’s full mirror rolled over to the pair. “I still cut a better figure in uniform than you do.”

Twilight clicked her tongue. She hated to admit it, but her brother’s guard outfit did seem to really suit him. Her ROTC graduation uniform looked too clean and pressed – not impressive at all. Still, the two little bars on her chest filled her with a pride that was hard to put into words. They represented years of hard work, dedication, and Coalmane’s lectures on what a good soldier should be.

“I still can’t believe it sometimes,” she said. “Graduating, that is. I never thought I’d make it.”

Shining Armor put his arm around Twilight’s neck. “Come on, none of that! You know you deserve it. You’re the best unicorn recruit to come out of the school in years. They would have been crazy not to offer you second lieutenant when you graduated.”

“I wonder how much of that was me and how much of that was you. And don’t even try to deny that you, Coalmane, Cadence, or Mr. Clearwater didn’t have anything to do with it. I know you all like the back of my hoof.”

Wisely, the stallion didn’t try and deny anything. Instead he just reached out and tilted the mirror so that Twilight’s cutie mark reflected back at them. “Who in their right mind is going to say that a pony with that shouldn’t be a royal guard? If we helped any, we just made sure that the right ponies saw your record at ROTC.”

Twilight stared at it for a moment and gave her brother a flat look. “Nothing is set in stone, Shining. Princess Celestia taught me that. My cutie mark could have been a bottle of glue and I’d still be here.”

“Yeah, but if it was a bottle of glue you’d have a hell of a worse time at boot. Think of all the nicknames they could give you! Glueboots. Twilight Glopple. Elmer Sparkle!”

“Really? Twilight Glopple?”

Shining Armor laughed. “Twilight Glopple would be your new name. Trust me on that.” He yanked Twilight’s neck around until she was facing the door and gave her a push. “Come on. Mom and Dad are waiting for the big, bad Second Lieutenant Sparkle to take them out for dinner before she ships off. Cadence can’t keep them busy forever.”

Twilight let herself be hustled. She let Princess Celestia’s framed letter land softly on her bed and took one last look at the purple and yellow cutie mark she could only just see at the edge of her mirror before Shining pushed her out the door. Silently she thought, Some things, Shining, you just have to repay even if it takes your whole life.

Opening Maneuvers, Part II: Concluded

Author's Note

This is honestly right off the presses. There are grammar mistakes; there are spelling mistakes. I just really wanted to publish this since it topped off a good four hours of creative output today that I hadn't thought I had in me. Goes to show what I know! I also have to get up at 8am and I'm posting this at 2:30 - shows what I know too, right? Answer: Not much.

Anyway, this is the prologue. The main meat of the story will start next time. Also, we have another main character to be added as of this chapter! I'll add them as they show up in the story so I don't give anything away.

Chapter 3

It was a fine restaurant; classy, yet informal enough that Twilight didn’t feel uncomfortable. Cadence and Shining Armor looked right at home as they made wound their way through the scattered patrons, Cadence even stopping to say an especial “hello” to a few of the waiters on the way to the back of the dining area.

Twilight Velvet sighed happily as she saw the large, well-decorated table waiting on them. “Light,” she gushed, “why haven’t we ever been here before? It’s charming!”

“Cadence loves it too,” Shining Armor said from the rear of their group. “We wanted someplace cozy, not too crowded so that we could sit and talk, and close to town in case someone wants to walk around after dinner.” Twilight felt him flick her with his tail as he walked past and caught a sly look from him.

“What are you up to?” Twilight wondered.

The alicorn herself picked that moment to interrupt. “Don’t go spoiling surprises, Shining. It can wait until dinner’s done with.” She laughed at Twilight’s suspicious look; Cadence didn’t usually go along with Shining’s plans, which made the unicorn all the more wary.

Some concern showed in Twilight Velvet's face as well. “You two do remember that Twilight leaves tomorrow, yes?”

“I promise we don’t let her do anything I didn’t do the night before I shipped out,” Shining Armor said. He pulled a chair out for his mother, smiling with all the sweet sincerity he could muster.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Cadence gave Twilight a little nudge with her shoulder. “I promise it won’t be that bad,” she whispered. Seeing the further look of suspicion she was getting, the alicorn traced an ‘x’ across her chest. “Cross my heart, you’ll be no worse for wear. It’s just a little bit of extra fun.”

That guarantee was enough to placate Twilight and she settled down next to her father. The stallion was apparently tuning out most of the back and forth between Shining and Twilight Velvet in favor of browsing the menu before everyone else. Deciding that he had the right idea, Twilight levitated her menu up. Before she could get very far down the list, though, it flew out of her grasp and over to Shining Armor’s side of the table.

“Nuh-uh, Twilie. Tonight is going to be special. Just put everything out of your head and go with the flow. Unwind a bit.”

Twilight readied a snappy remark, but a knowing look from her older brother stopped her. He knew from their talk at the house that she was nervous; this was just his way of trying to be nice.

“Right,” she muttered. “Unwind.”

Twilight Velvet leaned over the table and reached out to pat Twilight on her hoof. “Try and relax, Sweetie. You don’t want to be stressed the night before your big day. It’s not healthy.”

Twilight bit the inside of her cheek to keep from snapping. She was in excellent health. Her diet and exercise schedules were painstakingly-crafted over years of trial, error, and experimentation. Every single piece of food that went into her body was carefully scrutinized for calorie and vitamin intake, then compared to dietary tables she’d drawn up herself. Putting it plainly, she was at peek physical fitness – something her scores from ROTC emphasized.

Though, none of those accolades prevented her family from treating her like she was some kind of delicate egg just waiting to shatter. Sometimes it was annoying that everyone walked on pins and needles around her.

“Honey, are you alright?”

Twilight felt her eyes come back into focus. The small frown wouldn’t be denied this time – she was staring at the center of the table like an idiot. Ripping her eyes away from the drab tablecloth, she plastered a fake smile on. “I’m fine. Just trying to work out what Shining has planned for tonight.” Her brother rolled his eyes. He knew all about her little problem with spacing out when she was thinking, but her worried mother didn’t. Thankfully he didn’t pick tonight to discuss it. “What did I miss?”

Shining coughed, drawing the concerned looks away from Twilight. “Mom asked what the military processing station is like and I was telling her it was waiting, tests, more waiting, paperwork, and then more waiting. You’ll have doctors everywhere telling you to crouch or jump or other stupid stuff to make sure you won’t kill yourself at Fort Dressage.”

A waiter arrived with the drinks then and Twilight found herself staring at a tall class filled with a rich amber liquid. She looked up at Shining Armor and he wagged his eyebrows. Unwind, he mouthed, and Cadence looked like she was biting the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling.

Rationally, Twilight knew that her best friend never went along with Shining Armor’s pranks and that the drink was most likely safe to consume. Giving Cadence a look that promised retribution if this wasn’t the case, Twilight floated the cold concoction up to her lips and took a sip. Tea, sour lemon, and even stronger alcohol flavors hit her tongue. Forgetting her manners, she smacked twice at the strong aftertaste.

Booze. Of course. “Delicious,” she said, giving her brother a flat look.

“Glad you like it. I got used to them when I was stationed in Manehattan for a few weeks.” He tapped his chin. “Manehattan Iced Teas? Something like that.”

Her brother, everyone – goes to the most exotic city in the country and comes back with new recipes for mixed drinks. She wanted to feel embarrassed, honest she did, but it was endearing how completely unrepentant he was.

Thinking about it, Twilight could barely believe that the confident, social stallion sitting across from her was the same goofy brother she’d grown up with; the one that used to wait all night outside a comic book store to get a new release or blow his allowance money on Superspace Super War figurines.

“Uh-Oh, we’re losing her again. We really need to get the food over here before she gets so lost we have to wheel her out of here on a cart.”

Twilight just grunted. Feeling adventurous, she took another swig of her “tea” and felt her tail curl. “I was just thinking about how much you changed, Shining. Do you think the Guard will do that for me?

He hadn’t expected that. “Maybe,” he said, slowly drawing the word out. “I can’t say that I think I’ve changed that much, though. I’m still the same goofy big brother everyone knows and loves.”

“I can attest to his continued goofiness,” Cadence piped.

Everyone laughed, but Twilight didn’t feel her question had been answered. Shining was wrong. He had changed. Maybe he didn’t see it or maybe he did and was just trying to avoid answering the question, but Twilight could see the difference.

She hadn’t seen much of her brother for the last few months. He’d graduated years ago and went on to become a rather successful Royal Guard. Even when he’d come back to Canterlot for a new post a year ago he’d been distant. More focused and always talking about his job and how amazing it was. He seemed so free whenever she’d speak with him. Shining Armor always had his eyes forward, talking about what he was going to do rather than what he’d done already. For someone who constantly planned every detail of her life, it was a bit refreshing to see an unorganized gallop toward tomorrow with all the confidence and bravado that she didn’t have.

Twilight felt a nudge on her side. Light leaned down and stage-whispered, “Your brother didn’t change, Twilight. He simply grew up.”

“I take offense to that,” Shining chirped, though he was wise enough to not try and deny it. “When Twilight comes back from basic with a tramp stamp and cursing like a sailor you’ll be pining for my simple coltish charm!”

Twilight Velvet clapped her hoof against her head. “Has the conversation really drifted to tramp stamps? Twilight, if you get one of those atrocities, you are out of the house.”

“She’ll be out of the house regardless, Mom.”

“And she’ll never step foot in it again!”

Everything about the night seemed surreal to Twilight. She watched her mother start chiding her brother again; her father looking on with a faint hitch of his lips that showed how good a time he was having; Cadence trying to decide whether to support her coltfriend or likely soon-to-be mother-in-law. For just a moment, Twilight forgot that this would probably be the last family get-together in quite some time. Tomorrow she’d be thrown to the wolves and whisked off to parts unknown. Basic training at Fort Dressage was a eight week course – it would be the longest she’d ever been away from home in her life.

There was another nudge on her side, but this time it lingered. Twilight took a deep, calming breath and blinked back the bit of wetness creeping in from the corners of her eyes. Her father didn’t say anything, nor did he try and catch her eye, but Light had noticed her starting to slip.

“Enough of this dirty tramp stamp nonsense! I want to eat my supper while I still have an appetite,” declared Twilight Velvet as the waiter approached with their food.

Twilight stared down at the wide assortment of leafy appetizers placed in front of her with a hunger she hadn’t noticed creep up on her. It didn’t hurt that Shining had ordered all her favorite foods. She caught his eye and smiled knowingly; their taste in food differed quite a bit and he had been glaring at the asparagus like it was some enemy to be slain. You owe me, he mouthed, and Twilight reckoned that she did.

Owning to Twilight Velvet’s flat denial to get drawn into anymore of Shining’s bawdy stories dinner conversation was mostly carried by Cadence. Light chimed in a few times, he wasn’t a fan of alfalfa and asparagus either, while Twilight indulged enough for both of them. If she simply closed her eyes and focused on chewing and listening to the idle dinner conversation, Twilight could pretend it was just another night out with the family; that was needed to keep the butterflies in her stomach abated while her dinner settled.

She pushed her plate back, hunger sated, and rolled her shoulders as the rest of her family finished up. Cadence and Shining were nearly as quick with their meals as she was, but her parents were eating slowly and only just starting on their main course.

Shining leaned over and whispered something to Cadence and didn’t go unnoticed by Twilight. She cocked an eyebrow at Cadence when the alicorn glanced at her and got a smile from her.

“I think it’s time for Twilight’s surprise,” Cadence said, interrupting Twilight Velvet’s running commentary on how much she was enjoying the food. The older mare sputtered for a moment and Cadence cut her off again with, “Sorry, but we don’t want it to get too late.”

“And I think that’s exactly why I should know what you two are planning.” Twilight nearly groaned; her mother was using that tone. “Tomorrow is an important day for Twilight.”

“And that’s why she could use our little surprise.”

Twilight had been content to simply watch the drama unfold, but Shining caught her eye and gave her a pleading look. “Mom,” Twilight broke in, “I could use some fresh air. You know? Let the food settle?”

Galaxy looked perturbed at being argued with from all sides. “I don’t—”

Finally, a quiet cough broke the deadlock. Light's drink hit the table with a quiet tap and his napkin floated up to his muzzle. “Darling, I don’t believe that Princess Cadence would let Shining Armor do anything that would dull Twilight’s chances of getting the best possible marks at military processing. Do you?”

Twilight Velvet knew when she was out-gunned. She nodded and made a little shooing motion with her hoof. “You two have her home at a reasonable hour.”

Shining Armor was already out of his chair, pulling Twilight to her feet with a small tug of magic. “You can count on me, Mom. A reasonable hour and not a minute later.”

“I mean it, Shining!”

Cadence reinforced her boyfriend’s platitudes and he grabbed the check. Twilight grunted at being herded to the front so quickly, but even her usual wariness couldn’t dull the building excitement she was feeling as she got caught up in Shining’s enthusiasm. When the trio barreled out the restaurant door in rush of hooves, Twilight was giggling along with Cadence.

Her brother plodded out into the street, ignoring the put-out look from the passersby that had to step around him. “I almost thought she wouldn’t let us go,” he said. “Dad to the rescue!”

“But what did he rescue me for?” Twilight asked. Cadence was coyly smiling at her, but she was practically bouncing with energy.

The princess gave her a passing hip-check. “You’ll just have to follow us,” she said with a sing-song tone. Shining Armor was no more help than his marefriend was, grinning and keeping lockstep with Cadence as they started down the street.

A few blocks over a clock tower bleated out nine deep rings. No one on the street was giving it any notice – being out so late seemed natural for the ponies Twilight, Shining, and Cadence shared the street with. More than once some happy herd of ponies had broken the trio up as they hopped from one bar to the next, but Shining had always rounded Twilight back up before she could get distracted by a new jazz lounge or street performer. “Time for that when you get some leave,” Shining would say as he moved her along.

Their brisk pace rapidly brought them to the “seedier” part of the district. It wasn’t that the crowds lessened, but Twilight started noticing fewer suits and more armor as she walked into increasingly-narrowing streets.

“Are you taking me to a prison or something?” Twilight wondered when they passed a group of guards talking near a shop stoop. Their polished suits of armor gleamed in the flickering lamplight native to nighttime Canterlot, but none of them bothered to notice the gawking unicorn that passed them by. Most of them were older than Shining Armor, but two of them were Twilight’s age. The older ones were talking to each other, telling stories and making jokes, while the younger guards had a look on their faces that mirrored Twilight’s. They must have been new guards judging by how they seemed to hang on their senior’s every word.

Twilight bumped into Cadence when the pink alicorn came to an abrupt stop. They were a few doors down from the gaggle of guards, standing before of a wide storefront. Raucous laughter trumpeted out from within when Shining pushed the door open, filling the comparative silence of the night with a vocal warmth that instantly made Twilight smile.

“After you, Sis,” Shining said. Not resisting anymore, the younger unicorn stumbled inside with a giggly Cadence following close behind.

It was a bar. A popular bar judging by the multitude of patrons that filled the booths, tables, and barstools set out for them. Most, Twilight realized, were guards. Only a few were in uniform, but nearly every pony in the bar had a regulation haircut of some sort. Chatting, drinking, and listening to the old jukebox in the corner, no one paid very close attention to new arrivals. Shining led them through the winding maze of chairs and tables until some free space at the bar appeared out the throng.

Pulling himself up onto an open stool, Shining tapped the bar with his hoof and the bartender shuffled over. Twilight was instantly reminded of a younger Coalmane by the way the huge stallion lumbered toward her, all muscle and flat looks.

“I’ll have the house dry stout,” Shining said.

“Light ale for me.”

The bartender’s eyes fixed on Twilight. She swallowed a lump in her throat and looked to Shining or Cadence for help – she’d never been to a bar before – but her brother was intent on shushing Cadence before any aid could arrive.

She licked her dry lips. “Surprise me?” It came out as a question, though the bartender took it as an order. He gave her a half-lidded smirk and shuffled over to the huge wooden kegs behind the bar with three mugs floating beside him.

“You might end up regretting that one, Twilie.”

Twilight grunted. “You weren’t much help,” she groused, shifting on her uncomfortable stool. “I’m not good at this whole socializing thing, Shining.”

“And that’s why we’re here now, so don’t sweat it. Just be careful how fast you drink whatever he brings back. He’s a great bartender, but he does like to enjoy himself with fresh recruits.”

Twilight looked back behind the bar. The stallion was still busy with their drinks. “I’m not a recruit yet. How can he tell I’m going to enlist?”

He poked her in the chest. “Forgot what you’re wearing? He was in the Guard, so he knows what an ROTC uniform looks like. Besides, no one else comes here. It’s a military bar. Like it?”

It wasn’t as if she disliked it. The place had a distinctly adult atmosphere that would have made her feel giddy enough to bounce in her chair if she hadn’t been watching herself, but she was still feeling on edge. Looking around, Twilight not-answered by pointing to something hanging over the bar. “I like its taste in art. That’s Celestia Crossing the Macintosh Hills, isn’t it?” The painting was a beautiful piece showcasing a triumphant Celestia rearing up over a snowcapped mountaintop.

Shining Armor and Cadence shared a look. “You can take the Twilight away from her books, but you can’t take the books away from the Twilight,” Cadence mused.

“It’s a famous painting!” she protested, speaking over their chuckles. “Jodhpurs David painted it during the Southern Expedition of 869, the last time an Equestrian Army marched past the borders and…and you’re not even listening, are you?”

Cadence’s giggling abruptly stopped when her brother pulled his muzzle away from her ear. “Not true, Sis! Hills, army, Celestia – I got it!”

“Auntie always thought that painting was a bit too gaudy,” Cadence interjected, only blushing a little. “She has Paul Damsire’s version hanging in her room.”

“The one where she’s hunched over and dragging herself through the hills in a dirty old cloak? Damsire should have been put in stocks for that.”

Thankfully, for Shining’s sanity, three drinks clinked down on the bar at that moment. “Sweet, loving booze,” he cooed, “save me from the art discussion.”

Twilight floated her glass of mystery drink over. “Philistine,” she muttered with a smile. It was harder than the simple tea mix she’d had at the restaurant, but that wasn’t unwelcome as the strong taste doused the anxiety that was still bubbling in her chest.

“You’re so well-read, Twilight. I bet you’re going to miss your books when you go off to boot camp.”

“I guess. It will be nice to live some of the things I’ve been reading about; see some of the places. The books will always be there when I come back.”

Shining’s jaw twitched. It was slight, but Twilight knew from years of experience that her brother was softly grinding his teeth behind his lips. It was a habit of his that only reared its head when he had something unpleasant on his mind.

“You won’t be able to carry all those books around with you,” he said after a moment’s thought. “In fact, for the first year or so I doubt you’d even have an apartment and have to live at an outpost somewhere. Depending on where you’re stationed it could be even longer than a year. You might not get to really settle down until your whole term is up.”

Cadence shook her head. “That would be a shame, wouldn’t it? A bright unicorn like you cut off from libraries and college for four years. Doesn’t that make you sad, Twilight?”

“What’s the angle here, Cadence? Shining?” Twilight turned in her stool and nodded to herself at their twin looks of guilt. “If you brought me here to get drunk and admit how much I’m going to miss you two as some kind of prank…”

“No prank, I swear!” Cadence blurted. She gave her coltfriend a withering look. “I told you we shouldn’t have done it like this! Now she thinks we’re picking on her.”

“It’s not a joke. Well, maybe we should have done this better, but it’s a hard thing to bring up to you,” Shining said. “Look, I know it’s been your dream for years to work at the castle. A lot of ponies go into the guard wanting to do that and there’s a real chance you could end up there. I’m not saying that they’d lie to you down at processing or anything.”

“That’s not what we’re saying at all! The Royal Guard is an ancient, honorable profession that stretches back for generations. They’re wonderful ponies; a pillar of the state!” she said, glancing around at the off duty guardsmen near them.

“‘Pillar of the state, wonderful ponies’, but…?”

“But the Guard wants what the Guard wants,” Shining finished with a deep sigh, staring into the dark, swirling beer he was idly twirling with his magic. “I didn’t have this conversation with you before because I always thought I’d have time. I didn’t want to upset you, you know? This was all Cadence’s idea. Get you someplace nice, have a few drinks, then talk it out.”

Twilight sniffed once, held her breath, and took another mouthful of her drink. “You’re starting to scare me, Shining,” she said, coughing as the strong taste hit her tongue. “Both of you are. Can you just come out and say what you’re trying to say?”

Neither pony rushed to fill the new silence and that only heightened Twilight’s anxiety. “Shining, tell me.”

“Cadence has you a job at the castle if you want it. You could start tomorrow.”

The air rushed out of Twilight’s lungs. “A job at the castle? How? Why?”

“You’d be one of my assistants! It's long hours, but you’re in the gates. We could see each other every day and you wouldn’t have to leave home, and you will get to see Aunt Cele—”

“No!” Twilight’s hoof clanked against the bar counter. The old bartender shot her a disgruntled look. “I told you, both of you, that I don’t want any help! I don’t want any favors, I don’t want pity, I don’t want a helping hoof! I can do this myself. I’ve been training for this.”

“And what if they won’t make you a Royal Guard?” Shining countered. “What if they want to put you in a border fortress for a few years? Or assign you to a unit that travels around the country? I know you’ve been through ROTC, Twilie, but that just gets you into the Guard – not the Royal Guard at the castle.”

“Well why not? I was the top-scoring graduate in our school system! I exceeded all of the physical requirements and the education requirements. I’ve even got a second lieutenant rank already waiting on me when I get in!”

Shining smiled a sad little smile. It was the kind of smile that said, ‘Isn’t my little sister adorable?’ and it made Twilight want to scream. “Can you fly, though?” he asked. “The Royal Guard is mostly pegasi. They make better guards for the princesses because when they have to move they go through the air. Can you run your way up there with them?”

“That’s too much, Shining!”

He shrugged off Cadence’s hoof. “She needs to hear it. The only reason I’m in the Royal Guard right now is because of my shielding magic. I’m not following anyone around on official trips or sitting in the throne room – I’m in the castle barracks, practicing my spells or guarding the Royal Gardens so they can free up more pegasi guards for the castle.”

“Look,” Shining said, tempering his voice when he saw Twilight slump in her chair, “I’m not saying all this because I want you to quit – I’m saying this because I love you and I want to see you happy. Cadence and I talked about this for weeks and she thinks you’d like being her assistant. You were always good at book stuff and organizing.”

That raised the hackles on Twilight’s neck. “I can’t believe this,” she spat. “I don’t want charity.”

“Helping my little sister is charity? You think Cadence is doing this out of pity? It’s not like she’d put you up in your own room and you’d never have to work.” His hoof roughly poked Twilight’s chest. “If you went and applied for the job yourself and got it, would it be different then? Is skipping one step the difference between charity and not in Twilight Sparkle’s book?”

Twilight shoved the offending hoof away. Several eyes were now drawn to the little drama unfolding at the bar and Twilight felt her face burn brighter with every new witness. “Did mom and dad put you up to this?” she asked, bringing to bear her own weapons.

The fire in Shining Armor’s eyes fizzled like a candle held out in a stiff wind. “It’s not like that! Cadence and I aren’t scared we’ll never see you again; we just want you to be happy, Twilie. We want to make sure you get what you want out of life.”

Everyone wanted something. Her mother and father wanted their daughter to not run off like her brother, Cadence wanted a friend close at hoof, and Shining wanted his family all in one place so he didn’t have to worry. Twilight understood all of their feelings, but she wanted something else - something more than safety or camaraderie or even happiness.

She glanced away from her brother’s eyes. “I know you do, but I can make myself happy. I’m set on joining the Guard, Shining. I’m going to join the Royal Guard.”

All was quiet for a long moment. Twilight didn’t look up, but she could imagine the contrite look on her brother’s face. She heard Shining take in a breath, likely working up another argument, but then it blew out in a long sigh. “Fine,” he said, “I don’t want your last memory before shipping out to be an argument like mine was. You’re lucky that I already gave Mom and Dad a talking-to, though.”

The princess flicked her ear. “But, Shining…”

He shook his head. “Cadence, if she doesn’t want to take the job we can’t make her. Let’s just suck it up, be happy for her, and wish her the best.”

The defeat in Cadence’s eyes drove Twilight to hail the bartender for a refill of whatever she’d just downed. Another glassful slid down her throat with its insistent burning, but it dulled the senses nicely and kept her from dwelling too deeply on things. The dynamic had shifted; there was a tension to the evening now, even as Shining struggled to keep the embers of conversation stoked. Cadence chimed in whenever he directly spoke to her but it was clear she was just as removed as Twilight was.

Valiantly, Shining Armor plowed on, determined to lighten the mood by recounting his time at Fort Dressage and what Twilight could expect there. It was a subject he’d covered dozens of times in his letters home and Twilight’s mind was finally allowed to complete the drift it had been trying to do all night. With the hazy fog of alcohol settling over her, she allowed her head to slump down and rest against her folded legs for a moment.

She was scared. After tomorrow, everything would be out of her hooves. No amount of training or good grades could get a pony into the Royal Guard, but Twilight knew she hadto get in; getting to the castle, working for Celestia, was all she wanted from life. Why was that so complicated? Weren’t good grades and marks good enough? One time she thought that was the case, but now she just didn’t know.

“Do you think I can get in, Shining?” she suddenly asked. Her brother had been in the middle of describing a sunset over the port at Fort Dressage and she realized she’d cut him off. “Sorry. I just kind blurted that, didn’t I?”

He gave her a lopsided smile. “It’s fine. I was running out of things to babble about anyway. But you want to know if you’ll get in? Twilie, what did I tell you before we left the house? You’ve already gotten a rank from them – you’re in, but they’re going to fight you tooth and nail on going to the Royal Guard.”

“But why? You got in. I know you’re better at shield magic than I am, but I can do other things. I could stop someone from attacking the princess and I can patrol the hallways just as good as the rest.”

“You can,” Shining agreed, “but I think that they’ll think that’s a waste of your talent. I know you’re talented, you know you’re talented, and they know you’re talented. Some liaison will want to put you into advanced officer placement or something like that. It means command, but away from Canterlot along the border where smart, young commanders are needed in the field and not guarding some empty room in the castle.”

“Isn’t that where the most talented are needed, though?” Twilight countered, forcing some of the cotton between her ears to recede as her mind warmed back up. “There can’t be anything more important than protecting Princess Celestia.”

Cadence hid a giggle behind the rim of her drink. “I can imagine someone trying to protect Auntie,” she said.

Shining snorted, but his smile was still there. “Princess Celestia once did a demonstration for the Royal Guard, Twilie. She had the entire division come to the Canterlot parade grounds because our captain wanted real battle experience.” Conspiringly, he leaned in close to Twilight’s ear. “Five hundred of us all in full uniform, weapons at the ready, and Princess Celestia animates a matching number of empty suits of armor for us. We were out there for three hours hacking and slashing at moving targets, practicing drills and maneuvers, and by the time it was over every single one of us were dead on our hooves and the princess was just sitting on a platform drinking evening tea.”

Twilight’s mouth nearly came unhinged. “But that’s…that’s impossible! Do you know how much control that would take? How much raw power?”

“Uh, not really. It was damn impressive, though.” Shining leaned back and took a merry swig of his drink. He let out a happy sigh. “I realized something then, Twilie: the Royal Guard is there for the little things like guarding those empty rooms or being bodyguards to attached nobility or even walking around the gardens. I can’t imagine that five hundred ponies, no matter how trained, could stand between the princess and something powerful enough to actually threaten her.”

Twilight didn’t trust herself to speak her mind, not with the alcohol burning through her system. Heretical, she thought, but the sentiment was ruthlessly squashed. Her brother was right; anything that could actually challenge the princess would burn through the entire army and not just the guard. Likely they wouldn’t even make a dent.

Still, though, Twilight imagined herself standing her ground, the last guard between Princess Celestia and whatever monstrous thing her imagination could conjure up. She could be a knight like that.

She could give her life for her princess.

“Don’t think too much, Twilight.” Cadence’s voice was clear as crystal, even over the low bar noise. Startled, Twilight’s head snapped up and stared right into her friend’s knowing eyes. The look only held for a moment before the alicorn went back to sipping her drink, but the hairs on the back of Twilight’s neck were still standing straight up.

“What do you—”

Cadence put her drink down. Loudly. “Shining, it’s getting late. Twilight has a big day tomorrow and we did promise her parents.”

The sudden change in atmosphere appeared to baffle Shining Armor. The stallion looked down at his mug and then back to his marefriend. There was a question in his eyes, but the alicorn simply shook her head. “Right now?” he asked.

“I think it’s for the best, Shining. We probably shouldn’t have even ordered her as many drinks as we did.”

Despite her lingering discomfort, Twilight found the spine to be offended. “I’m sitting right here, you know.”

“Do you want to have a hangover in the morning when you’re getting your medical examination? I wonder what the drill sergeants would do if they saw that on your record when you got off the train at Dressage?”

“I almost want to see someone do that,” opined Shining Armor as he flagged down the bartender. When Twilight saw him start rooting around for his bits to pay the tab with, she knew Cadence was going to have her way. Really, it wasn’t that bad of a reason to end the night here, but that unpleasant feeling that Cadence’s words had stirred didn’t sit right with her. It was probably just the alcohol or her nerves or some brewing unholy combination of the two.

After all, tomorrow as a very, very big day.

Author's Note

And so we get to the actual story! No more weird time skips, no more flashbacks.

I know this is a bit of a dry chapter, but I really wanted to set a tone here since this is a "for want of a nail" fic. Personally, I think that if you write a story like that you have to spend a good amount of time getting readers used to the "new" character you're introducing, this one being a Twilight that grew up closer to her family and away from Celestia. If you don't do things like that you risk setting a disjointed tone for the entire thing that will last for chapters and chapters and chapters.

Also, I'm naming all the arcs after famous military operations. Since this arc will be Twilight-in-training, I thought Valley Forge was appropriate! Should be about half a dozen "parts" of this, but who knows with me. I go where my pen takes me. In any event, though, I hope you enjoy it and I'm sorry for how long it's taken me to update something.

3/16/20 Edit: You'll notice I'm replacing the old mentions of Twilight's parent's fandom names with the official ones. Or not notice. This story is so old when I drop a new chapter you're all going to freak anyway.

Chapter 4

“Twilight.”

The voice was evil; it wanted her to do something. It buzzed around like an annoying fly that refused to be swatted, skittering around through her mind. Traipsing, even. Her head was rather loudly railing against that kind of treatment in the only way it could – with teeth-clenching, heart-wrenching pain.

“It’s time to get up, Twilight.”

No, voice, it was time for you to shut up. Shut up and go away!

“You’re crankier than your mother is when she has to get up early.” A beat. “At least you get it honest.”

Twilight felt herself being lifted by magic and found that resisting was simply far too much of a bother. Better to just groan miserably and weakly flop like a dying fish; her body was insisting that was the best course of action in this situation.

“It is useless saying this, but please do not be angry with me. I have little choice and time is of the essence.”

Stupid, annoying, babbling voice! Couldn’t it see that she was a mare distressed? “Glugh,” Twilight grunted, which was hungover mare speak for, “Put me back in my bed this instant, Voice, or else.”

The voice was quiet for a moment and Twilight felt herself being lowered. Apparently the voice spoke Hungover Mare. Good. Good for it and its family. Even though her bed felt far harder…and colder…than it normally did it was better than being prattled at. Really, after curling into a little ball it wasn’t that bad at all.

“Sorry about this, Sweetie.”

Before Twilight could work up the fortitude for another threat, a freezing blast of water showered her back. She bolted upright in the bathtub and landed with a wet smack flat on her back when her legs slipped out from under her on the slick porcelain.

And then she screeched when she slid down far enough that the cold jet of water hit her square in the face.

Standing a few feet away, out of flailing hoof range, Night Light watched with only a slight tick of his eyebrow. “Really,” he said as his daughter dragged her top half over the rim of the tub, “the theatrics are a bit much, Twilight. I did ask you nicely to get up.”

Twilight’s response was to spit out a mouthful of shower water.

Light shook his head and gave the hot water knob a firm twist with his magic. “Better?”

“Better,” Twilight grunted. She pushed her sopping mane out of her eyes and kicked at the switch that turned the uncomfortable shower into a much nicer bath. Twilight heaved herself back into the tub and let her head slide into the pooling water. Her ears flicked when a clink came from the side of the tub. She cracked an eye open and saw the most glorious sight of her young life: a cup of steaming coffee sitting there, just waiting for her. Her headache was not so bad that she couldn’t spare the magic to levitate it down to her lips.

“What time is it?” Twilight asked. Gods, but that coffee was good. Not good enough for her to forgive her father for this, but it was a start.

Light gestured to the tall window on the other side of the room. There was only the faintest blush of a sunrise on the night sky. “Early enough that I believe you’ll be able to get this hangover out of your system before your preliminary medical testing.”

A sharp spike of pain thundered through Twilight’s head as the previous night shoved its way to the forefront of her mind. The bar, the drinking, the job offer, the not-so-polite refusal, the going home…the…what? She couldn’t remember the going home leg of the journey. That wasn’t good, was it? How many drinks did she have? There had been two at the restaurant and only one at the bar, but how many refills? Had she ever looked down and seen an empty glass?

Goddess, but the bath felt good. Thinking was bad. She didn’t need thinking so long as she had this wonderfully warm water. Everything hurt – everything. Her back was achy and sore and her legs didn’t want to do anything but flop to the side. What logic dictated that a hangover should make your body hurt? If anything had a right to complain it was her liver, not her joints and muscles.

“I scheduled you twenty minutes to get washed up and completely sober before your mother comes to find you,” Light said, stepping toward the bathroom door. “Velvet has a sixth sense for these kinds of things, so you should get it all out of your system before your brother’s distraction runs its course.”

“What kind of distract—”

“What did you two do onmy sofa?!”

Twilight blinked owlishly. “They didn’t.”

Her father took a sip of coffee from his own cup. “Apparently your brother decided that it was a good idea to stay the night. In his state that was a good idea, but it seems Princess Cadence decided to keep him company.”

The bathwater rippled with Twilight’s stifled giggles. “I’m never sitting on that sofa again.”

Light smiled. “It will have to be burned,” he agreed. A crash from downstairs drew his attention. “Well, take your time to clean up. You have a big day today and I have to keep your mother from making you an only child.” With that, the older unicorn slipped out of the room and went to somehow mitigate the growing battle a floor below.

Alone, Twilight let her ears sink into the warm water. The big day, her father had said, but that didn’t do it justice. This was it; this was the end. Last day on death row and all that. Not that she wasn’t looking forward to it, oh no, but all that talk about no books and maybe not getting into the castle…

I could get on the train to the castle with Cadence. The conversation they’d had at the bar suddenly snapped into focus through the uncomfortable haze of her headache. Cadence had looked so hopeful that she’d take the job. All it would take is one decision, one different train, and her dream would be hers. A few years working as Cadence’s assistant and doing a good job at that and then maybe Celestia herself would notice. She could be Celestia’s assistant by the time she was twenty. How much closer to the princess could someone get?

Suddenly the bathwater didn’t feel so good; suddenly she didn’t feel so good. Twilight clenched her jaw and jumped up from the water so fast she nearly ripped the curtain down in her bolt for the toilet.

One stomach evacuation later, Twilight coughed and slumped down onto the cold tile. “Get it all out of your system,” her father had said. Now she knew what he meant, though her upset stomach couldn’t be blamed completely on the hangover.

Twenty-five minutes later Twilight stumbled down the stairs. She managed a laugh at seeing a sofa pulled up to the backdoor, but even that little bit of movement made the bile in her stomach uncomfortably shift. It was a great relief to get into a kitchen chair and simply rest for a few moments. Looking around, Twilight floated a peeled orange over to her and took an unenthusiastic bite. She needed something on her stomach no matter how much her body protested.

Light and Velvet were sitting down as well, but Twilight saw that Shining Armor and Cadence had been banished to the bar. The back of her friend’s neck was still a ruddy red color and Shining was trying his best to stay as small as possible. Every time Twilight Velvet shifted the guilty pair jumped in their seats.

Such a scandal. After all that responsible talk from Cadence, even. Not that she was surprised; Twilight couldn’t count how many times she’d caught them fooling around when Cadence was her foalsitter.

Still. That couch had been her favorite.

“Have you decided when you want to leave?” Light asked, neatly folding his newspaper in half and setting it down next to his empty coffee cup. “When does processing begin?”

“Six sharp,” Velvet provided. The matron of the house looked like a bird whose feathers had been thoroughly ruffled and the edge in her voice made both Shining and Cadence go rigid.

Six o’clock. Twilight glanced up at the kitchen clock and saw that it was a little before five. Well, it wasn’t cutting it that close just yet since they were already living downtown. Just two blocks down and there was the local train station. Very convenient, that.

Twilight cleared her throat. “Shining, processing is at the military hospital on the other side of town, right?”

He didn’t bother turning around. “Right, Twilie. Two trains away.”

“Well, when do you think we should leave? Do they want us there early or right on time?”

Shining dared to glance over his shoulder. “The sooner the better,” he said in a shaky voice, cautiously watching his mother eat her breakfast.

Twilight nodded. She’d be the one helping Shining Armor get off the hook for once. “I think we can even head out now in case there’s any extra paperwork I need to fill out.” She smiled at her parents. “ROTC being what it is and such. You know how paperwork is.”

They both nodded, but Twilight could tell that her words had shifted the mood. Velvet was still staring intently at her pancakes. Subtly, Light put his hoof on her leg and he mare sucked in a long breath of air through her nostrils.

“Well, we’re all going to w-walk to the train station with you.” Twilight’s stomach lurched when she heard the hitch in her mother’s voice. “As a family. And…and we’ll be there when you get sworn in.” And when you leave Canterlot.

Twilight looked away, feeling foolish for rushing things. “Right. To the station.”

The morose atmosphere followed the five out the door. Twilight led the way, slightly a step ahead of her mother and father which had taken up places next to her. In a moment of clarity, Twilight realized that her unease was nothing compared to what her parents were feeling. She was it; after her, the two would be alone. She’d only been thinking about how getting into the Guard would affect her, but it was her parents that would have to immediately live with her decision.

Velvet hadn’t wanted Shining to go. The night before he left they’d had a terrible fight. Twilight still remembered the shouting and the screaming, the horrible things her mother had said about Cadence and why Shining wanted to join the guard. She’d curled up in her bed and stuffed her head under the pillow, but it didn’t stop the sounds. The sobs. The pleading. Only Cadence had walked with Shining to the station that morning.

There’s still the job at the castle. The thought came back, unbidden, and Twilight had to force herself to keep looking straight ahead and not glance at Cadence. If she took the job, she could live at home for another few years. Even if she moved out her parents would only be a few blocks away.

Her steps went out of rhythm for a moment as she shook her head. No. No. She wouldn’t do that. The reasons, the feelings, she’d laid out the night before to both Shining Armor and Cadence had been true. Serving Celestia as a guard was her defining purpose in life. If she couldn’t be a student of magic under Princess Celestia then she’d put her magic to use for Princess Celestia. No matter what Shining Armor thought about the princess not needing to be protected – Twilight would do her part.

That comforting feeling of resolve filled Twilight with confidence as the train station came into view. The streets were still lit by lamplight, but this close to the station there were other ponies around. Office workers, lawyers, judges, and other high-profile ponies that lived this close to the castle were just beginning their journeys to work that morning when Twilight’s family stepped up onto the platform.

A train whistle in the distance distracted everyone. The morning train wasn’t running yet, but its arrival was rapidly approaching. Twilight Velvet leaned into her husband to bury a sniffle in his neck and Twilight’s body went stiff. If Velvet begged her not to join, could she say no? If her entire family was against her joining the Guard then could she really go off anyway? Could she be Shining Armor if it came down to it, walking away from everything she’d ever known?

Velvet's hooves came up and Twilight felt the hairs of her back stand up. Was this it? Was this where they would spring it on her? Was this —

The mare draped herself around her daughter’s neck. “I am going to miss you somuch, Twilight.”

Stunned, Twilight weakly returned the hug.

“I’ve taken you for granted,” Velvet murmured. “I always thought that you would be there, that you’d always be our little filly, sitting around the library with your nose in a book. Before I knew it you were grown. How did I never see it before today?”

She pulled back, tears in her eyes, but smiling proudly. “You are our beautiful, talented, adult daughter and I’m sorry I didn’t see it earlier. Anything you do you will excel at, Twilight. I know you will.”

Twilight pulled her in again. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry for just…just leaving you two here alone.”

A hoof settled on her shoulder. “We’re not alone,” Light said. For once he had forgone the slight, restrained smiles and his lips were split in a huge, fatherly grin. He motioned his head toward Shining Armor and Cadence. The two were hanging back by the actual platform. “Your brother is here now and soon you’ll be back. You’re going to be a Royal Guard, aren’t you?”

“I’m not going to settle for anything less, Dad.”

He shared a warm look with his wife. “Straight from the horse’s mouth, Darling. She’ll be back just as sure as Shining Armor came back. When our daughter decides on something she gets it.”

Twilight realized that she didn’t deserve parents like this. She’d put them through so much over the years that it made her red in the face to even think about it. There was a number, somewhere, of how many times they’d gone to bat for her – they’d gotten her a chance to test at the School for Gifted Unicorns, they’d kept her from being kicked out of school when she’d spent years tormenting everyone, somehow they’d convinced the school to let her join ROTC a year early, and who knows what else.

And she was repaying that by leaving.

“Twilight. Twilight, Dear, too tight,” Velvet croaked. Bashfully, Twilight let up her embrace but didn’t let go. She wasn’t ready yet.

“I love you two so much,” she whispered. “Somehow…somehow I’ll make up for all this. For everything. I’ll make you both proud of me.”

Light pulled back from the hug to look her in the eye. “There is nothing to make up for. No matter what, nothing you can do will make us any less proud of you than we are right now,” he said.

It was a look that Twilight felt ashamed to accept. She’d used her parents as ammunition against Shining Armor last night, knowing that he still felt they resented him for leaving. Just the same, Twilight realized that she didn’t have to accept their feelings – they’d feel it regardless.

That realization nearly made the distant gnashing and snarling of steel tolerable. Wide-eyed, Twilight looked over her mother’s shoulder at the distant puff of white smoke down the tracks. Across the train yard, the express that would take her across town was pulling away from the water tower that filled its boiler.

Twilight Velvet and Night Light recognized the noise as well. Velvet wiped her eyes with the back of her hoof and took a shaky step back from Twilight. “I’m sorry if I messed up your mane,” she said, her voice somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

“It’s fine, Mom. They’re going to have to cut it anyway.” Her mother smiled in a sad sort of way and stared so intently at her mane that Twilight wondered if the mare was committing it to memory. The sudden thought made Twilight wish she’d taken a picture before leaving the house; she’d never look the same again. Her hooves, her legs, her mane – it was all going to change.

The train finally lumbered up to the platform. It was nothing more than a few passenger cars and a small locomotive, the ideal train for inner-city travel, but to Twilight it loomed in the distance like a massive iron snake, spitting fire and smoke and coming to devour her.

A strong hoof looped around her neck. “Mind if Cadence and I take it from here, guys?” Shining asked. “Cadence went and got her ticket and I have a few words of wisdom for Sis. Hush-hush information. The best bars, dance clubs, tricks to sneaking off base – you know, the important stuff.”

Velvet rubbed her muzzle, getting the rest of her sniffles out. “I swear, Shining, that if you get her into any trouble I’ll—”

The oldest stallion cut his wife off and gave Twilight a gentle push. “Go on, Twilight. We’ve taken up enough time like it is. I’m sure you want your best friend to see you off,” he said, nodding toward Cadence.

Dimly, Twilight heard her brother ask, “Am I chopped liver?” behind her, but she was already halfway across the platform. Cadence, her oldest and dearest friend, was standing a few feet over from the conductor and the other passengers slowly boarding. Her eyes widened when Twilight didn’t slow down enough to stop and she let out a puff of air when the small unicorn threw her legs around her neck.

“Oh Twilight,” Cadence sighed, returning the embrace. “You’re not going away forever.”

“But I am going away.” Twilight tucked her head in and sucked in a stuttering breath. “A-and I was worried I’d made you m-mad last night. At the bar. I don’t want to leave with you mad at me.”

Cadence pulled back and gave her friend a coy smile. “I remember that you got a little testy with me last night as well. I was worried you were still mad.”

Twilight grinned, happy that there were no hard feelings. “I figured between mom chewing you and Shining out this morning and having to buy us a new couch that you’d suffered enough.” Her grin widened when Cadence grumbled something and blushed. “What exactly were you two thinking? Fooling around in the living room?”

“It was Shining’s fault,” Cadence muttered, “and your mother will never, ever, let me live it down.”

“Neither am I. It’s going to get a lot of mileage: wedding toasts, Hearth’s Warming Eve anecdotes, Nightmare Night pranks, stories to tell the little nephews and nieces…”

Cadence gave her friend a flat look. “Would those stories come before or after I tell those same little nephews and nieces about Miss Smarty Pants?”

Twilight knew when she was beaten. Cadence had years and years of dirt on her. “Truce, truce!”

Cadence pulled her back in for one more squeeze before letting go. “There’s that clever young unicorn I know and love,” she said. Stepping back, she lit her horn and levitated out a train ticket. “You’re going to need this, aren’t you? The schedule says you change trains at Market Station and get off at Hospitaller.”

The ticket slipped out of Cadence’s magical grasp and Twilight locked her own magic around it. Her ticket to another life; the life she’d always dreamed about.

As she was committing it to memory, Cadence cleared her throat. “Twilight, I know you didn’t want to hear it last night, but—”

“No, Cadence. No.” Twilight interrupted her; she had to interrupt her. “I shouldn’t have let it get to me. You were just…trying to help; you and Shining Armor both. I just got a bit too caught-up in it and the alcohol didn’t help. I shouldn’t have gotten snappy with you.”

“And I shouldn’t have gotten so pushy,” Cadence said, smiling.

Twilight smiled back and, for the first time that morning, felt like things were back to normal. “I thought about it, you know?” she said. “The job as your assistant.”

“Oh? And what did you think?”

“I think that only an idiot would turn it down. Working with you, in the castle, would be a dream come true for anyone. There are ponies that dream their whole lives for something like that.” Twilight’s smile slipped. “But…”

“I’m not the princess you want to work for.” Cadence didn’t look angry, only resigned; maybe even a tiny bit amused, like she had just understood the punch line to a joke everyone else had been laughing at. “How Auntie does it I’ll never understand,” she murmured.

The sudden lull in the conversation became punctuated with the long blaring of a train whistle. Cadence glanced over at the conductor who duly began another round of “all aboard!” with only five ponies in attendance on the platform.

Twilight took that as her cue. She pulled Cadence into another sudden hug which soon turned into a bit of a dog pile with Twilight Velvet, Night Light, and Shining Armor joining in.

“I feel slighted in the goodbye department,” her brother whispered as he bullied his way through the various embraces. “You’ll remember your big brother when they offer to make you marshal or something, won’t you?”

“Count on it. I’ll make sure your namesake gets put to good use when I make you my official armor shiner.”

“Big words, little sister. You have to make it past the Generalissimo first.”

Generalissimo? The word wasn’t Equestrian and Twilight gave her brother a befuddled look. He met it with a smile and shook his head; she’d have to find out on her own.

The conductor zipped in front of the door when Twilight finally got onboard. Surprised, Twilight let out a few huffs of breath and opened her mouth to say one last thing to the four most important ponies in her life seeing her off, but the passenger car door slammed closed before it could get out. The stallion gave the side of the car a hard kick and hurried to the back, just scampering onto the caboose railing when the engine gave an answering whistle.

Cadence didn’t move back when the train began to roll. If she watched closely, she could make out the tip of Twilight’s snout poking out up from the bottom of the window as she tried to get a look out. It made her smile, imagining how flustered Twilight must be at being hustled off like that. The princess made a mental note to personally thank that conductor for waiting as long as he did; he was bound to catch it from the other morning commuters for the departure delay.

Perhaps sensing her mood, Shining Armor stepped up to the alicorn’s side and leaned into it. “Are you alright?” he asked. “She didn’t take it, did she?”

Cadence’s horn lit and another ticket floated out from her saddlebag. Unlike the one she’d given Twilight, this one was for a stop at the station closest to the castle. “I didn’t even have a chance to offer,” she said, balling it up and tossing it in a nearby trashcan. “We had a nice talk, though. She’s not going to budge on the career front.”

“She’s that set on it, huh? Nothing we can do about it now.”

The princess shook her head. She watched the train until it rolled out of sight. “That’s not true. We can do one thing.” She turned, smiling, and said, “We can hope for the best.”

*****

The Canterlot Guard Barracks and Depot served as a dumping ground for all manner of surplus military equipment. Though the city hosted the largest zeppelin squadron in Equestria, not everything in the sprawling complex was related to flying those giant hot air airships.

There was a good view of the main yard from the train station. Simple chain-link fence stretched acres and acres down the railroad track until it disappeared at the mountain’s edge. Inside were spare wagons, portable storm shelters, airship parts, and even a few old canons. Building-wise, there were three squat facilities beyond the storage yard. One of them had a bright red cross on the front façade.

Twilight took a deep breath and stepped out of her passenger car. She’d switched trains twenty minutes ago and there were far more ponies getting off with her than had got on at the start of her little journey. Most of them were in uniform – simple cut robes that designated non-guard military – but there were quite a few polished suits of armor in the crowd as well. Those ponies were taking up more than their fair share of space and Twilight found herself nearly stumbling as she awkwardly tried to shift out of their way. Before she realized it, she was off the platform and halfway through the station.

Ponies were chatting and laughing all around her. If she closed her eyes, Twilight could almost trick herself into believing she was back in a crowded hallway in school. Just a few weeks ago and she would have been. The smell of someone’s breakfast made her mouth water; she’d only picked at her food this morning, not wanting to put anything on her stomach that might upset it. Staying with the crowd, and following that delicious smell, she stepped out into the main thoroughfare to the base.

Well, technically it wasn’t a base. It was a depot/office headquarters. What the difference was Twilight didn’t know – it seemed plenty big enough to her! The main gate was wider than a train car was long and there were guards everywhere, checking the identifications of everyone going inside.

Twilight struggled with her duffle bag when she realized her tern to get checked was coming up. She only held up the line a moment while she fished out the papers she’d been given by her ROTC commander, Coalmane, to get her in. The guard that she flashed them at grunted and pointed with his hoof at a sign hanging on a column a few feet away.

It was a list of rules and general conduct for enlistees. Most of it was no-brainer such as no eating or drinking or wandering around, one line made Twilight realize why the guard had looked so put-out: “ENLISTEES – NO MAGIC OR FLIGHT WITHOUT PERMISSION.”

Twilight flashed him a sheepish smile and let her duffle bag drop to the ground. She picked it up by the handle with her teeth.

That earned her a curt nod. “You’ll want building G-2. Just follow the signs and you can’t get lost.” He gave her a look. “Good luck, Kid.”

Twilight had a new appreciation for earth ponies when she finally managed to lug her bag out the door. Thankfully, Shining Armor had given her the tip of picking a bag specifically made for ponies without magic when they were passing them out after ROTC graduation. The strap length was adjustable and Twilight slipped them over her front legs when she had the room. It was still unwieldy, but Twilight didn’t have to use her teeth anymore.

True to the guard’s words, there were signs up and down the depot’s road that pointed the way to the in-processing building. Traffic was sparse-but-steady and Twilight fell right in behind a gaggle of guards walking to work. Unlike the polished, gleaming barding of the Royal Guard, the average guardsman had practical armor suited to their jobs. Ponies that moved supplies had well-worn yokes integrated into their armor for hitching up to wagons; pegasi working weather for the crown had floppy flight suits with leather caps and goggles; average guardsmen that worked indoors sorting forms and files had only the barest of metal on – just little loops that settled on their necks and attached to a little cloth that covered their backs.

Suddenly Twilight saw them. Two royal guards moving against the flow of traffic, chatting with each other and completely unmindful of the way all the other ponies moved to get out of their way. Their armor was polished to a fine luster that sparkled in the dawn. It was the darker variant that showed these were night guards, but it was no less splendid than the day variant. Every Royal Guard had two “working” suits of armor, day and night, which they would wear depending on their shifts. As a matter of pure preference, Twilight thought the night variant looked better, but being a guard on the day shift was her dream position.

When they passed her, Twilight didn’t look away in time and one of them caught her staring. “New fish,” he said, smiling and nodding his head toward her. “When you get there, don’t sweat it. It gets better.” They were past her before Twilight could think of a proper response.

It was another few minutes of walking until G-2 came into sight. It was just another nondescript cinderblock building, but there was a giant “in-processing” sign hanging over the door. Other hopefuls were dragging their duffle bags inside with only Twilight and the earth ponies not having any trouble. A turquoise-colored pegasus trying to get her bag up the steps with just her teeth glared at her when she trotted right by.

Should have done some neck curls, Twilight thought. That was the problem with pegasi – none of them thought about any muscles other than the ones on their backs.

Inside ponies were being sorted into separate lines by guards in administrative barding. All the earth ponies were in a huge line that folded up and down the room twice over. Twilight knew that the guard was mostly made up of earth ponies, but there were more than she would have thought. Pegasi were next with about a dozen – most were sitting on top of their bags and chatting away.

Twilight followed the signs to her own line, of which she was one of three. The other two unicorns were small, weedy-looking things that were chatting with the admin in charge of them about different jobs.

“So, you see, your best options are in finance or logistics,” the older unicorn was saying as Twilight stepped up. “Material Management is very popular at the moment. Warehouses in Trottingham will always look at former guard first and the civilian pay scale is quite generous.”

One of the unicorns, a mare, clapped her hooves. “Oh, oh! That’s what my uncle did in the guard! I hope I can score high enough on the written exam to get it.”

“Contracting is better,” the other unicorn said, pushing his glasses up with his hoof. “The work is more challenging and there are more options in civil service after I get out. MatMare isn’t bad, though,” he added after getting a cross look.

Twilight ended the debate succulently when her bag thudded down next to the line. Unlike the other two, hers was clearly an ROTC bag that held her spare uniforms, training armor, and very little civilian clothes. Even though she was a small mare, Twilight was larger in the legs and barrel than even the administration guard.

She followed his eyes as they went to the top of her head and then down to her bag. It seemed to throw him for a loop when he noticed that, yes, she did have a horn and, yes again, that was an ROTC patch on her duffle.

“Well, that’s our third,” he said, not breaking the uncomfortable silence in the least. “We can start processing you three and getting you into career advisement. Come on.”

Twilight hauled her bag back onto her back and started walking quicker than the other two unicorns could get their saddlebags back on. They passed an open classroom full of earth ponies hunched over desks listening to testing instructions and then a classroom of pegasi doing the same. The door the unicorn guard opened was much smaller with only half dozen or so desks. Twilight was about to take a seat with the other two, but the administrator put out his hoof.

“This is standardized testing for ponies that are enlisting. You’re Twilight Sparkle, correct? We’ve already received your ROTC records. You can go straight to initial physical and magical assessment.” He nodded to the back of the room. “Leave your bag, though.”

That was all Twilight needed to hear. She swung the heavy thing off her back and tossed it across the room. The ensuing thump made the two civilian unicorns jump.

As it turned out, physicals were multiracial. Twilight cued up with ponies from other ROTC programs, a few of which she knew from her own high school, in a large gym and went through a series of basic stretches and movements. It was all trivial stuff to Twilight and the rest; Colemane made them do these same exercises every afternoon before real PT. This was simply the bit to weed out the ponies that weren’t really serious about joining, or so Colemane had told them all. Sometimes civilians really didn’t understand what it took to get into the guard.

After that, the group was herded to room after room. They got their ears, eyes, and lungs checked by various nurses and doctors. Twilight was poked in more places than she strictly felt comfortable being poked in, but everyone had to go through it so she sucked it up. She wished those doctors at least warmed up their hooves first, though.

All the exams and waiting took most of the morning. Lunch was nothing but cold boxed sandwiches for twenty minutes and then it was on to the blood work. By this time the non-ROTC ponies had caught up and a few were shuffled into Twilight’s group. To her annoyance, the two unicorns from before were with put with her.

An ancient unicorn doctor caught her right after she’d gotten her blood drawn. “Follow me. It’s time for the magical testing.”

“This is the part I’ve been waiting for,” someone said. As much as Twilight was starting to dislike being lumped in with these “civilian” unicorns, she couldn’t say she wasn’t looking forward to this as well. Earth ponies got to go outside and test their pulling strength, pegasi got an aerial obstacle course, and unicorns got The Rings.

It was a bit of a legend to ROTC unicorns. Magic was inherently difficult to measure. You couldn’t take a unicorn outside and have them levitate things until they passed out like could with an earth pony’s strength. Likewise, you couldn’t have them try precision movements like a pegasus in flight. The former could very well harm the caster and the latter was something most unicorns had been doing their entire lives anyway.

“I’m Doctor Iron Cross. For those of you who don’t know,” he began, stopping them in front of a large double door, “I’ve been working in this facility for thirty years now. You’re mine for the next two hours, got that?”

The doors swung open and several ponies gasped (Twilight among them). They were in a room larger than the exercise gym. As soon as they stepped in, Twilight felt something odd happen – her head felt heavy. She shook herself, but the feeling didn’t go away. In fact, the further in she walked the worse it became.

Iron Cross urged them on anyway and led them around the edge of the room to a waiting earth pony. There was another cue, which Twilight found herself near the end of due to her lingering and gawking. Only once everyone was neat and orderly did the unicorn examiner clear his throat.

“You’ve noticed by now that there is something unique about this room. Look down.” Everyone did so. Twilight instantly zeroed in on a discolored ring a few feet ahead of her. It ran around the entire room and a few feet further in from that ring was another, and then another, so on and so forth until the middle of the room was a small circle only big enough for a single pony to stand in.

“These are the ‘rings’ that you have all probably heard of. They’re worth almost as much as this entire base is so don’t go scratching at them.”

Twilight didn’t scratch, but she did tap her hoof against the closest one. It rang like a thick bell. “These are magical suppressors, aren’t they?” Her question caused a ripple of whispers to overtake the group.

“Indeed. Industrial strength. We use them in the prison system to keep unicorn prisoners under control. You lot are going to have to perform some minor spells inside the first ring to pass. Anything past that goes on your record and will help with your job pool. Certain jobs require more levels.”

A stallion raised his hoof. “How many levels do I need for—”

Iron Cross stomped up to him. He didn’t look so old with his wrinkly face drawn into a sneer and his horn crackling with energy.

“None of that hogwash! I said you’re mine for the next two hours and that means you don’t get to do a bare minimum and get by. Not in my Guard or you’re out that door for as long as I can keep you out. Got it?” There were no objections. Satisfied, the unicorn went back to the front of the line and kicked over a box. A dozen or so balls rolled out onto the ground.

“One each. Levitate it and start walking until you can’t walk anymore.”

Each of the unicorns grabbed a ball, but Twilight could see some of the others already struggling. One of the unicorns she’d been sorted with, the mare who wanted to go into material management, had to focus so much on getting her ball up that she looked cross-eyed. She took one step past the first ring and let out a croak.

“Not so easy, is it?” Iron Cross asked. “That first ring is the most general of suppression. There’s one around the minimal security prison in Hoofton. It’s not going to completely kill your magic, but the average unicorn shouldn’t be able to bust down a wall and walk out. Take a lap around the room and then go to the next ring.”

The mare looked at him like he was crazy. Her ball was already starting to wobble dangerously, but she clenched her teeth and started trotting. By the time she made it back her coat was soaked through with sweat like she’d just ran a marathon, though the ball was still floating there.

She took a step into the next ring. Instantly she collapsed to her knees and started dry heaving.

“That’s the second ring. Of course it works in conjunction with the first, so you’re getting a double measure. Two are enough for the worst of ponies at the supermax up in Stalliongrad. A third ring can be turned on in case of a riot.”

Iron Cross stepped up to the struggling mare and helped her up. Twilight noticed that he took the ball from her without much effort. His face was much kinder, especially when the unicorn tried to take the ball back. “You passed. To answer the question earlier, ninety percent of jobs only require you pass the first ring. After your test scores are figured, you get your job pool.” He turned to the group and raised an eyebrow. “Well? Next.”

One after another the unicorns took up the challenge. Nearly all of them managed to do their lap. The ones that didn’t were allowed a chance to retake it after three weeks. Apparently that retest had a high pass rate as well. A few unicorns had managed to do their lap around the second circle; two had even gone to the third and fourth circles. They were quickly whisked away by ponies in flowing robes that Twilight recognized as being from the Magisterium, that quasi-religious group of professional sorcerers that served the crown directly.

Shining Armor had gotten some attention from them. Apparently he’d gone as far as the third circle. Given his young age, they’d taken him in for an interview. Ultimately he hadn’t gotten an offer, but it looked good on his record and had helped him get into the Royal Guard later on.

“You, the purple one; you’re up next.”

Twilight gripped her little rubber ball with as tight a telekinetic hold as she could manage. Not for the first time Twilight wished she had an actual teacher that had taught her actual spells instead of just helping with her precision. She’d been told for years that she was special, that she needed direction, but no one had stepped up. Now it was just her, the most basic spell a unicorn could learn, and seven rings that could kill magic.

She stepped past the first ring. The weight she’d felt past the door of the room intensified. It felt like her four legs were the only thing holding up the roof and every step was like trying to gallop through a swimming pool. Twilight took it slow and walked around the track rather than run. When she got back to the starting point, she stepped over the next ring and repeated the lap.

It was the third ring that started tripping Twilight up. Now she had to walk instead of it just being a choice. Her pace didn’t slow from the last two, though. A unicorn in a Magisterium robe trotted over to Iron Cross as Twilight started walking on her fourth lap. Her ball started shaking halfway around, but Twilight fixed that by levitating it directly over the tip of her horn. The extra focus helped.

“Another completed the fourth circle. This is the best crop we’ve had in years,” the hooded unicorn said when Twilight got back around. “Are you positive that the rings are working properly?”

Iron Cross snorted. “Go and try them yourself. We just happened to have a lot of Princess School graduates this month. Of course they’re going to go this far.”

Princess School graduates: unicorns that had gotten accepted to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. They thought she was one of those ponies? The unicorns that had already left were from there?

Twilight licked her lips. “How many rings do I need to pass to be a Royal Guard?” she asked.

The Magister looked at her like she’d started speaking French. “Royal Guard? You’re going to be in the Magisterium.”

That was not the answer Twilight wanted. She closed her eyes and refocused all her attention back on her little ball and stepped into the fifth ring. Iron Cross was saying something to her, but the new weight pouring down on her body washed it away. She just focused step-by-step and the background noise sorted itself out.

Twilight owed Colemane a lot. The big unicorn hadn’t believed in one area of focus for any of his cadets. Earth ponies would work on mental exercises, pegasi were forbidden from flying unless he allowed it, and unicorns did twice the PT. “It’s too easy for all of us to fall into comfortable ruts,” he would say anytime someone asked him why. “Equestria might love a specialist, but the Guard demands jacks of all trades.”

“I honestly don’t believe it,” Iron Cross muttered when Twilight met them at the starting line for a fifth time. “You shouldn’t even be able to stand still and light your horn. What the heck are they teaching you fillies at that school these days?”

Twilight ignored him. There was another lap. This time the old unicorn actually leapt out in front of her when she turned around. “No. Put the ball down and go sit for a few minutes.”

“I’m not done,” Twilight growled through her clenched teeth. Test. Princess’s school. It was all starting to bleed together. Focus. She needed to focus. Had to pass this time.

“Let her go.” The Magister pulled back his hood and nudged the doctor out the way. “I want to see this. We need to see this.” Iron Cross opened his mouth, but it closed with a small smack a second later. Very reluctantly the old unicorn nodded his head.

The sixth circle was a beast. Even though it was only thirty or so feet in circumference every step felt like she was walking with a giant barbell chained around her neck. Twilight wanted to cast if off, but every step taken was one less she had to take. Just one more and she could stop. Then another. She was over halfway done now; it would be silly to stop. She could almost quit.

And then she was there in the middle of seven dampening circles. The seventh was so small that Twilight barely had enough room to sit. Once her rump hit the ground, her chest followed, and then her head, but the plastic ball didn’t touch the ground.

“How long can you actually hold it there?” the Magister asked. His voice was even and calm; Iron Cross had already run for the medics. “Can you levitate it higher? Make it move?”

Twilight tried to move it, but the ball was as immovable as a tidally locked planet with its star. Come on, just a bit, Twilight told herself. She clenched her eyes closed and searched for something to put behind her magic. Anything, even if it was just one more scrap of magic. If she could do it, how could they keep her out of the Royal Guard?

“There’s more in there, isn’t there? Just a little more focus, Twilight Sparkle.”

For just a moment Twilight thought the unicorn’s voice had changed. It had become softer, deeper, older than anything she’d ever heard. Did she have more? Was there anything left?

Twilight forced an eyelid open. The little ball of plastic was now a little ball of fire. It was spinning right in front of her nose, spitting little globs of burning rubber with every rotation. In its own way it was beautiful. Twilight smiled then and let her head fall back down to the ground. Her little ball was so warm, just like the afternoon spring sun on her coat.

She never wanted to wake up again.

Author's Note

At around 8k words, this is certainly the biggest thing I've written since getting out of basic training. I realize that this isn't the story most of you thought I'd update (it's not even the story I thought I'd update), but it's the one I felt like writing for.

I actually think I can get this moving along since I have some real, limited, military experience under my belt. At the very least I have plenty of ideas for basic training. Now that I have time to work on my writing, I think my readers will be pleased with my productivity.

Also, Yesterday is Today is being worked on as well. So there's that too. Hope you like this little offering!

Chapter 5

“That was irresponsible.”

Princess Celestia’s ear flicked just to show she was listening, but she didn’t take her eyes off the folder she was leafing through. “Did you know she applied to my school? It was years ago, but she was allowed to test. She failed. Cadence probably told me this at some point, but I forgot.” A sigh. “No, I let myself forget.”

Iron Cross let out a grunt and plopped down behind his desk. He was used to Celestia ignoring his criticisms by now. “It makes me wonder what the hell kind of bar you have set for little fillies these days,” he said as he pulled a dark, half-full bottle from the bottom drawer.

“I suppose I am wondering about the school’s admission standards as well. I typically let it operate under my board of directors without direct supervision, but a more active hoof seems to be warranted.” The alicorn flipped to the next page. It coaxed a snort from her. “And it seems she is also the sister of Shining Armor. You remember him, I trust?”

“He’s the unicorn that managed to get into the Royal Guard a few years ago, right? I’ve heard he’s being considered for Captainship next year.” Iron Cross tripped a bit of the bottle’s contents into a shot glass, thought better of it, and tipped it again.

Celestia flicked the folder closed and tapped it with her hoof. “One and the same. He made it to the fourth ring, I think.”

“Third. I remember because he was one of the first layponies to actually do it. Mostly it’s just graduates from your school.”

The princess nodded. ‘Until now’ was the unspoken addendum to that sentence. If a unicorn made it to three rings, they would have to get registered once they had left the military. Their training and power made them a potential danger, even if they were law-abiding citizens. If they could go one farther, to four, then the Magisterium would do anything to keep them. Five, and they were among the most powerful unicorns in the kingdom. Six was unheard of and seven was just theoretical. Twilight had sat there, in the middle of seven industrial dampening rings, and pulled something from deep within herself. Celestia had witnessed it personally, as had just about every cadet and the base medics.

For a split second Twilight’s magic had tapped into its most primal form and what had stared back was something that shook the alicorn.

Celestia brought a hoof up to rub her throbbing skull. It was a small lapse in professionalism, but she trusted Iron Cross. “I overlooked her. Even with Cadence telling me that I should watch her friend, I didn’t listen.” She looked at the unicorn, pensive. “How did I overlook her?”

Iron Cross just shrugged and slid a glass over to her. “None of us are perfect, Princess. We’ve caught her now, though. We should be thankful for that.”

“True. She can go to the Magisterium and begin the education she should have been receiving years ago. We can make up for this.” Slowly, a smile tugged at the edge of Celestia’s lips. “Perhaps she would make a good foil for Sunset Shimmer? That filly could use someone nipping at her heels to make her take her studies seriously.”

The stallion took the folder while Celestia demurely sipped at her glass. Today seemed to be a day for lapses.

“Did you read her ROTC psych profile, Princess? She’s got an early history of violence and the counselors say she has the social grace of a dead fish. Even her character references left out any volunteer work or local leadership.” He frowned when he got further down the page. “And there are some concerns she’s an adherent to the Church of the Dawn, or at least ripe for conversion. That doesn’t sound like someone you want to be a ‘foil’. That sounds like someone who should be on some kind of watch list.”

Church of the Dawn. That left a bad taste in Celestia’s mouth that had nothing to do with alcohol. “That’s a bit in depth for an ROTC profile, isn’t it?”

“She’s being offered a commission as an officer, based on her graduation scores and her standardized tests, so she was looked at a bit harder. Being the sister of a Royal Guard Captain candidate probably helped with that as well.”

Celestia smiled, but it didn’t reach the rest of her face. “I remember Cadence once told me Twilight Sparkle welded another filly into a school locker. I should have realized something then.”

Iron Cross nodded at that. It was as close to an actual admonishment as he would get. For a moment it seemed like he wasn’t going to say anything, but something was clearly tugging at his curiosity. Even an old military horse like Cross could only keep it stowed for so long.

“What is it? Ask, Iron Cross. We are beyond holding our tongues now.”

“It’s only…what is she, Princess? When I came back with the medics she was on fire. It wasn’t just an illusion or random magical flare, either. I could smell it. I could feel it.” The big stallion fidgeted in his chair, making it wobble slightly. “And she looked like you. Her coat. Her mane. Even her magic, Princess. It felt the same.”

What does it mean was blissfully left unsaid by the sergeant. No one wanted to hear that their timeless princess didn’t understand what was going on. They wanted to pretend that it was all just over their head and that it was covered by someone higher up than themselves. Celestia herself wasn’t like that and her student wasn’t like that, despite her other faults.

And, apparently, neither was Twilight Sparkle.

Further introspection was ended by the telephone ringing. Celestia made a slight motion her head and Iron Cross answered. “Doctor Cross. Right, any complications? I see. We’ll be down in a few minutes, then.”

Celestia put her glass to the side and pushed herself up off the couch she had commandeered. “Perhaps, Sergeant Cross, it would be better to put questions like that out of your mind for the time being. Whatever Twilight Sparkle’s true nature, she wishes to join the Guard. That can only be a good thing for the kingdom.”

“I’ll defer to you on that, Princess.” He coughed when Celestia almost opened the door. “Princess, your disguise?”

Celestia’s horn blazed and her silhouette shimmered and bathed the room in a brilliant gold. When Iron Cross could stand to open his eyes again the alicorn was gone.

Master Feldspar, the special attaché from the Magisterium that only graced Initial Processing once every blue moon, smirked back at him. “Now then, are you ready to go and meet our newest recruit?”

Defense in Depth: Valley Forge, Part 3

Twilight Sparkle woke to searing pain and frantic whispers. Unfamiliar magic washed over her when she tried to move and pushed her back down into the bed she was lying on. Twilight continued to push and roll, nearly screaming at the pain wracking her head as she tried to magically push back against foreign magic on her body.

“Miss Sparkle, please! You’re going to make your injuries worse!” The voice was perfunctory and demanding, but Twilight recognized the authority in it and let herself ease. The magic on her loosened and went back to just a gentle probing. “Better. Don’t cast anything until your headache subsides. You’ve nearly strained yourself too far.”

It was just magical strain, then. Relief washed the tension out of Twilight’s body and she sank back into the soft cot as the medics did their work. Her horn tickled when they began soothing its taxed innards, but she was glad for it.

There wasn’t much to see when Twilight let herself take in the room. It looked like a standard examination room, only packed to the walls with white lab coats and uniformed medics. There were no less than three different unicorns working on her right that moment, but their magic didn’t feel invasive anymore. Twilight just let them work, easing the burning in her skull and horn, as she thought about her exam. Had she passed it? Surely the Royal Guard would take her now that she’d done so well? The exam proctor, that Iron Cross, had seemed to think it was a big deal. So had the creepy magister.

The Magisterium. Twilight had heard of it, just like any other unicorn that was interested in the military. It was one of the few organs in the government that was unicorn-only by necessity. Ponies would complain about it once in a while, but no one really wanted it to go away. The unicorns there were the most powerful in the entire kingdom and loyal to the crown. They weren’t officially part of the military, but they worked hoof-in-hoof with them.

“And there’s our newest prodigy.”

Speak of the devil and they will appear, Twilight thought. The black robes of the magister were a sharp contrast against the sterile white of the room. He was smiling as he pushed his way through the crowd of doctors, leaving Sergeant Cross to smooth things over in his wake. His horn lit in a soft golden glow and pulled a stool over to Twilight’s bedside.

“Well, you look rather spry after nearly blowing your horn off. It’s a sign of well-developed magical pathways in the horn, you realize. A must in our line of work.”

Twilight wasn’t exactly sure what the protocol was for a Magister. Was she supposed to salute him? Stay silent until he asked her a direct question? The Magisterium existed outside the normal chains of command.

“Thank you, Sir,” Twilight said, settling with a middle-of-the-road approach. “I’ve never neglected my training.”

The stallion waved his hoof. “I’m not a Sir. I am Magister Feldspar, one of the attachés to Introductory Military Processing. We switch off every few weeks.” He leaned in, whispering, “It’s just my luck that you came through on my watch. Let me tell you, my fellows are going to be so jealous.”

“Jealous, Si-ah, Magister?”

“Just so! Can you tell me the last time a unicorn managed to get past the entire ring test?” Twilight started to answer, but the Magister threw up his hooves. “Never! This is the first time since these tests were developed that someone has beaten it. The entire Magisterium is in a tizzy right now.”

Twilight looked to Iron Cross for some kind of guidance and only received a blank look from the sergeant in return. He looked rather put-out, though, at having to run interference for the magister. Twilight didn’t know what to make of that. Was a magister ranked higher than a sergeant? Right now Iron Cross looked more like an entourage than anything else.

Maybe she had been too flippant. “I apologize if I’ve caused extra work for you, Magister Feldspar.” Twilight didn’t actually care about that, but it’s what she would have said to her old ROTC superiors if she’d screwed up.

“Accepted, but it’s work I don’t mind. Especially not when I’ve been the first to meet what I’m sure will be the next High Magister. In a few decades, of course,” he amended when Twilight’s mouth went slack. “Yes-oh-yes you could be! And I found you! Oh, I think both our stars are going to be on the rise, Twilight Sparkle,” he added with a wink.

It was a bit more than Twilight could process at the moment. High Magister? The current High Magister was the Ancient and Honorable Sol Shard. He had served the Grand Spire for nearly a century! Twilight had done a biography on him for her senior thesis in Advanced Magical Studies back in high school and he’d had dozens upon dozens of books dedicated to his legacy!

A rather seductive image of that textbook showing her legacy one day popped into Twilight’s head. That word, though. That word ruined it. “Decades? Magister, how long would it take me to even work with Celestia?”

That verbal wrench ground Feldspar’s mental machinery down to a halt. “Work with the Princess? Ah, well, Princess Celestia, as you know, is a busy pony. I’m sure that eventually you would work yourself up to the point where you would be called upon for tasks by the Princess, but…” Twilight’s face must have shown a hint of her feelings because the Magister rushed to fix his verbal faux pas. “That’s not to say it’s impossible! You are, as I have said, the most magically talented pony seen in this exam. After a few remedial magic classes you are sure to rise through the ranks! Maybe in a year…or five. And…and…you’re going to turn it down, aren’t you?”

Twilight flinched. She was fully aware of just what kind of opportunity she was turning down. “My brain is screaming at me not to, Sir, but it’s been my dream to work for the Princess. Since I was a filly.”

“Perhaps Princess Cadence needs…” Twilight gave the Magister a flat look and he let the thought trail off. They both knew who Twilight meant when she said that she wanted to work for the princess. “Well, take a while to decide. We can talk later about-”

“So how did you do it?”

The room seemed to sigh as Iron Cross fractured the perfunctory interview with a question that had clearly been burning in his throat since he entered the room. Feldspar sent the former sergeant a sharp glance that he completely ignored as he pushed by the magister. “Seven dampening rings is enough to crack a unicorn’s horn if they try to even make a light. What you did is impossible.”

Twilight shrank back in her hospital bed as Iron Cross jabbed his hoof at her. The stallion’s face held none of the fatherly warmth he’d given the first tester; all she saw as anxious fear. He was barely holding himself together, she realized. “You…transformed into something. At the end. Your mane it…” Cross trailed off and took a hesitant step back. He looked at Feldspar for a long moment and then his eyes flicked closed and his shoulders sagged. “Never mind. I'll be in the hallway until you're finished. We can talk about your job after you've heard the Magister out.”

The sergeant left the hospital room like a stallion who had just set aside a heavy burden. He didn’t look back and the door shut behind him.

When Feldspar finally turned back to Twilight, his smile was back in full-force without even a hint of stress. “Forgive the good Sergeant. Military processing day always takes a lot out of him and seeing a display like yours outside of an exhibition…well, it’s a bit much for him to grasp right now.”

“Was it really that unusual, though? Dampening rings aren’t an exact science. There have to have been flukes and false positives before.”

“Naturally. If a unicorn does exceptionally well in this test we will adjust the ring harmonics and have them test again on the off chance that their own magical frequency was too close to the ring’s harmonics that there was some cancellation. However, I was present in your case. There was no bleed through. You went past seven levels of magical nullification. It has never happened. It is unprecedented.”

Unprecedented. Something in her stomach began doing flips at the word. Twilight was a modest pony, not a stupid one – she knew that her abilities were beyond what anyone else in her magic classes could do. She could cast spells more powerful than even the teachers and could channel her magic for hours on end without rest. But for a magister, one of the most magical unicorns in the entire kingdom, to call her unprecedented…it was a feeling headier than Twilight could have imagined.

But.

But.

“I want to join the Royal Guard,” Twilight said firmly. She actually felt the knot in her chest loosen after saying it out loud. It felt like a bookend – a hammered-in nail that truly punctuated her resolve. Twilight actually smiled. “I really do appreciate the offer, Magister. Something like this only comes once in a pony’s life. But, I joined the military to get somewhere; to work with someone. The Royal Guard gets me there faster.”

For a solid beat the stallion didn’t seem to know what to say. It was understandable; Twilight couldn’t believe she’d turned him down either. “You…but no unicorn has ever turned down a position in the Magisterium. Even your brother was jumping at the chance. This is your life, Twilight Sparkle. The Royal Guard will take everything you have to offer. You will spend days simply wandering around the castle on routine patrols. You will have to look after annoying nobility who can barely function without attendants, with no time for personal study. Is that the kind of life you want? Your talents will be wasted!”

Twilight shook her head. “My talents will be protecting Princess Celestia. That’s not a waste.”

“It is when the pony you want to protect is the most powerful magical force currently active in the world.” It wasn’t a snap, but Feldspar had gotten close. “No matter how much raw talent you have, you are not Celestia. Especially not without training. Perhaps, in time, you could stand with the Princess as she faces down some eldritch monstrosity, but only after years of study. Which you will not get in the Guard. You will simply be one more face in the crowd. One more pony to get underfoot. The Guard-”

“The Guard is twice the organization the Magisterium is!” Twilight shouted. Her nostrils flared like a bull and she rolled out of her bed and put herself snout-to-snout with the ranting magister. “My brother does not get underfoot! He, and the rest of the Royal Guard, protect the princess with their lives! Maybe they don’t stand a chance against some monster, maybe they don’t have the same time you ponies up in your tower do, but they put their lives on the line for Princess Celestia more than any of you ever would!”

Feldspar opened his mouth to start again, but Twilight was well and truly riled up. She poked him, hard, in the chest with her hoof and pushed him toward the door. “I know the runners when I see them and you look like the type of pony that will run the other way when something hard comes along. That’s why you’re not a Guard! Because the Guard has to jump in the way despite not having all of your fancy training. Some of us are willing to serve without any kind of thanks or promises of fame or wealth! Now, get out!”

Twilight’s horn sparked and Feldspar was lifted off his hooves like a very flummoxed sack of potatoes. His own horn sparked in response, but Twilight simply pumped all of her magic into her telekinesis and suppressed him instantly. The door was jerked open, surprising a few nurses and Iron Cross, who had retreated to the adjacent wall.

“I’m joining the Royal Guard,” she told him. Feldspar was floating, slightly off-center, when Twilight dropped him. He landed in an undignified heap by the door.

Iron Cross glanced at Feldspar and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t let me stop you,” he said, as even and smooth as ship’s keel. “The train leaves in an hour from Depot 12, Station 3-C. Here’s the paperwork.”

Twilight didn’t even question why the sergeant had her file ready to go. She took it, gave him a crisp salute, and stomped down the hall with a purpose.

It took a few moments for the hospital to right itself after that. Nurses went back to doing their rounds, doctors continued checking their patients, and one very contrite alabaster stallion rolled around until he could get back on his hooves with a scrap of dignity still intact.

“I imagine she took your sales pitch personal,” Iron Cross guessed.

A passing nurse giggled and Feldspar glowered as he smoothed out his robes. “Astounding observation skills you have there, Sergeant. Just wonderful. And you were such a help in there, what with your amazing arguments and years of experience.”

The stallion shrugged. “I’m not going to put myself between a unicorn that can crush the ring test and what she wants. And you did say you wanted her in the military. A Royal Guard is better than leaving bitter, isn’t it?” Feldspar said nothing and pushed past the sergeant. Reluctantly, he followed along. “Where are we going now?”

“You are going to make sure that news of Twilight Sparkle’s test don’t get out to the Magisterium. I am going to go have a conversation with General Pranco at Fort Dressage.”

Iron Cross slowed to a halt and nodded warily, even if the disguised princess couldn’t see him. No need to tell her that he’d already floated a story to his staff (and therefore the entire base – the gossips) that the rings had malfunctioned. Bringing that Pranco into it, though…

“Well, whatever. Let the kid figure it out.” After all, Iron Cross thought, no matter what Twilight Sparkle eventually turned out to be, she was new. She was the future. Somehow, someway, that unicorn was going to do something monumental in history – if Celestia would let her plans deviate a bit.

And that, Iron Cross knew, was a very, very big “if”.

Author's Note

The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.

Edit: How in the world is this old thing featured?!

Chapter 6

“Why do I need these?” Twilight asked, staring down with a burning sense of hatred at the little brown case her medical examiner had just given her.

If the stallion was intimidated by Twilight’s tone, he didn’t show it. He scribbled a few things onto his clipboard and readied the next case of basic, coke-bottle glasses he was handing out. “You’re myopic. Put them on and move to the next station.”

Twilight wanted to argue, but the next pony in line was already shuffling over. She pulled the ugly glasses out and slipped them over her eyes. To her incredible annoyance, they worked just as well as the old pair of glasses her parents had bought her years ago that she had hidden under her bed the first time someone had laughed at them at school. She caught her ugly reflection in the train window a few paces behind the final processing line and clenched her teeth. The second basic training was over these things were getting thrown out of a window or something.

As ugly as the glasses were, though, they weren’t physically painful – not like the next few processing stations. Twitchy medical students with bad aim stuck her full of more vaccines than Twilight knew existed. It took a lot of patience not to buck the one trainee who had to needle her three times in the flank before she got it right. The one supervising doctor warned her at the end that she could expect some slight sickness on the train ride to Dressage and gave her a foil-wrapped package of pills that were supposed to help. Twilight dutifully downed them with the little cup of water provided and side-stepped to the next station.

Twilight was just one of a hundred ponies making their way onto the train. Most, like her, passed through the final processing stations without issues. Some received bad news from one of the aptitude tests and had to change their jobs at the last minute or were shown the door. When Twilight finally stepped onto the train, thick medical folder, commissioning paperwork, and duffle bag in-horn, the group had dwindled to just seventy or so.

A turquoise mare muscled past Twilight while she was still stowing her luggage. Twilight let out a loud huff, but she received a scoff instead of an apology. “Move it or lose it, Nerdlinger.” To Twilight’s annoyance, the pegasus settled into the row right behind her and immediately kicked up her hooves.

Twilight opened her mouth to say something snappish, but she caught herself and took a deep, calming breath. She was going to be a better pony now. Better ponies didn’t yell at their future sisters-in-arms on the train to basic training for bumping into them. The lingering kernel of annoyance was just a leftover from dealing with Feldspar, Twilight told herself.

“Hey, when is this thing moving? We’re burning daylight here!”

Or maybe the pegasus was just a giant jackass. But that didn’t matter! Better pony now, and all that. Twilight certainly couldn’t drag the mare out of her chair and beat some sense into her; that wasn’t Royal Guard material.

It became increasingly difficult for Twilight to continue telling herself that when the pegasus began kicking the back of her chair.

Fortunately for everyone involved the last of the trainees boarded the train a few moments later. A haggard-looking guard stomped in after the last one and he dispassionately glanced over the spotty crowd of nervous ponies. Everyone stared at him as if they expected him to jump down their throats at any moment, but he seemed more interested in counting their heads than yelling. Twilight recognized his armor – he was wearing the half barding that the military administrators were issued out in the field. One bit of metal on the barrel of the chest, enough to cover both flanks, and the rest was multi-pocketed cloth that was more utilitarian than defensive.

He wearily cleared his throat. For the jittery ponies it could have been a scream for how they all sat up straight. “Okay, so before this train gets rolling I need a visual check of all in-processing documents and medical records. Hold them up so I can see.” Ponies did so, either by magic, wing, or mouth. “Good. Don’t lose anything or else you’ll be getting right back on this train in three hours when it drops you off at Dressage. When you get there, do whatever the cadre say to do. What’s next…right. You all get a boxed lunch in an hour, don’t get too loud, and enjoy your last little bit of freedom. There are instructors on this train, but they usually don’t come back here unless you all make fools of yourself.”

Twilight felt a distinct mix of dread and headiness when the guard’s eyes fell on her. “You, the unicorn in the ROTC uniform. You’re in charge. Keep everyone reasonably quiet and come get me if something comes up. I’ll be in the front car.”

As he walked out, seventy sets of eyes turned on Twilight. She had been part of the ROTC leadership at school, but that was, at most, ten or so ponies at any one time. Now she practically had a small company! She actually had to take a moment and take a deep breath before she forced a crisp smile and stand up.

“So! My name is Twilight Sparkle and apparently I’m in command.” She made sure to puff out her chest a bit, so that her ROTC lieutenant pips stood out. “We have two hours and forty-five minutes from the time this train leaves to get to Fort Dressage, so you can all do what you want until then unless,” she dropped her voice and narrowed her eyes for effect, “you are getting too rowdy. Then I’ll step in. Stay in your seats unless you need to go to the bathroom, don’t start taking down your luggage, and don’t get loud.”

“And what are you going to do if we get ‘rowdy’, General Nerdlinger? Make us walk the plank?”

Twilight clenched her jaw. A few of the more skeptical recruits, who hadn’t looked too enthused at her little directive, now openly laughed. One even clapped. The boisterous pegasus flapped her wings, nearly popping Twilight on the nose, and actually stood up on her bench. She looked out over the gathered ponies with a sharp eye that gauged her support.

Apparently she liked what she saw. “So, someone graduates school with their head buried up someone’s ass far enough that they get a cheap uniform and they think they’re leadership material? That’s a joke. All that guard said was to not get loud. He didn’t say anythingabout not stretching our legs or not getting up to talk to each other. That’s just something this one made up. I don’t think we should listen to her.”

“I was put in charge,” Twilight firmly stated. “It doesn’t matter what you think about it. Sit down, don’t yell, and don’t get up unless you have to.” The pegasus just smirked at her, so Twilight turned to the crowd. “If the cadre see us all getting up and walking around, they’re going to come back here and put a stop to it. We’ll lose last few hours of freedom we get. Is that what you all want?”

“So we put a lookout at the door to tell us when someone is coming. Problem solved.” The pegasus fluttered down off her seat and pushed her way in front of Twilight. “Listen, that guard probably didn’t know it, but I was part of the Junior Wonderbolts in high school. That’s better than some stupid ROTC program. Technically, I should be in charge here, but I didn’t wear my uniform to in-processing like a dork. If we get caught, I’ll smooth it over. Don’t you guys worry.”

Twilight felt the attitude in the train car start to get away from her. She had tried the nice, yet firm, approach, but it was clear it wasn’t working with this lot. Ponies were starting to stand in the aisle and talk in groups and one was even trotting up to the door.

She turned to the source of her trouble. “Sit down,” she hissed. “Last chance.”

The pegasus turned around, looked Twilight square in the eye, snorted, and then said the magic words: “Make me, Nerdlinger.”

Twilight’s horn blazed magenta and the source of her annoyance was deposited back in her seat like a misbehaving child. A few of the bolder trainees raised their voices, but at a glance Twilight sent them back to their seats as well, unicorns that magically resisted or not. After dampening the magic of that uppity magister, Twilight wasn’t cowed by ponies her own age. They, however, seemed quite cowed. One of the more bookish-looking unicorns was staring at her with something uncomfortably close to fear.

This hadn’t been how Twilight had wanted to make her first command impression. She pulled back her magic from all the ponies other than the still-struggling pegasus. “Like it or not, I’m in charge here. Military command isn’t a popularity contest like high school was. If you listen to what I say, I’ll leave all of you alone. If you don’t, I’ll go call for the guards myself and ask them to sit in here with us. Is that understood?”

Grudgingly, ponies nodded. Even the timid ones looked upset at being threatened like that, but Twilight knew she was in the right. Her chances at getting through this training weren’t going to be hampered by anyone else. She looked down at the turquoise pony still squirming and then back at the others. “I’m going to let her up. If she makes a scene, I’ll go to the guards. You’re responsible for her.”

Twilight’s magic let up and the pegasus rocketed to her feet. She didn’t yell or scream, which surprised Twilight, but the look on her face was murderous. She stepped forward and Twilight tensed herself for a fight, but an earth pony surged out of the crowd and put his leg around her neck. Another pegasus took the other side with her wing and covered the pony’s mouth.

"Yes, Ma’am! Understood, Ma’am. We’ll just take Lightning Dust to the back of the train so she can let off some steam and not bother anyone.” The pegasus, a cherry red one with a wagon wheel cutie mark, jerked her head at the earth pony helping her wrangle the irate trainee between them.

With the main agitator gone, the rest of the train settled down into subdued conversation. Twilight was left alone at the front and had an entire row of seats all to herself, but that was fine. She preferred the quiet of personal introspection to chatting with strangers she would only know for two months.

The train lurched as Depot 12 began to roll past. Twilight eased back in her bench and tried to release some of her lingering tension as the clatter of the rails competed with the acceptable murmur behind her.

What was Cadence doing, she wondered. Was her assistant, the one she was ready to throw aside at a moment’s notice if Twilight had accepted her offer, reading out the princess’s itinerary? Did that faceless pony even know how close they had come to being tossed out? Maybe Shining Armor was keeping her company today. That thought lifted Twilight’s spirits. Her brother was a rock.

And Feldspar! What kind of report was that one making right now? Probably telling the High Spire what an ungrateful, spoiled pony he had found. A pebble that refused his polish. What unicorn wouldn’t give half their horn to get into the Magisterium?

She had dreamed of it once, not so long ago that she had forgotten. A little filly had once imagined being whisked away from her boring school, from her boring books, and taken into that life. ‘We know your true worth, Twilight Sparkle. No test is needed.’ It had been one of Twilight’s preferred mental escapes on the worst of days. The Magisterium could take whomever it willed from wherever it willed. It wasn’t completely unheard of for a young pony to step through those ivory doors.

Twilight sighed, breaking out the breath of a smaller unicorn who had once conjured up daydreams of flowing magister robes and grateful princesses. That unicorn had grown up and gained the ability to read between the lines – Feldspar was not offering her anything great. She was behind the curve, and no amount of raw magical talent could make up for years not spent purely studying magic. Her entire life would go by chasing ponies who had an insurmountable lead on her. At best she would be just another black robe in the crowd. That type of pony wouldn’t stand out.

But the Royal Guard…the Royal Guard didn’t have anyone with her abilities. Even Shining Armor had only cleared the third resistance ring. The Guard didn’t need memorized spells; it needed power and Twilight apparently had that in spades. Instead of rote spell memorization, Twilight had honed her levitation ability. She had learned how to suppress another unicorn’s magic, the basic skill of a unicorn in the Guard. Crowd control, weapons training, physical conditioning – she had learned it all the moment she had decided to go down this path. It brooked no detours. Thinking about what could have been if she had done something else was –

“Ma’am? Ma’am?”

Twilight blinked. A brown-coated unicorn was hesitantly shaking her. She faked a smile as if she hadn’t been staring blankly out at space for however long that pony had been standing there. “Sorry, I must have zoned out. What is it?”

The unicorn pointed at the door. A pair of non-uniformed earth ponies were stacking bricks of cardboard lunch boxes inside the car. Had it already been so long? “So, time for lunch. Have the boxes passed down the row from front to back. No need for everyone to get up and clog up the train car.”

Ponies picked at their dried lettuce and crackers. A few drank their juice boxes. Twilight finished all of her lunchbox and was thankful for it. The train lumbered on, passing forests and rivers as Twilight ate. Gradually, the land became parched and turned to sand. Twilight opened the window and watched a sea of glittering sand of the Palomino Desert burst from the very rocks and plateaus of the plains. Heat hit her face and the horizon in the distance danced. She gave over her thoughts to watching every mile roll by for the next two hours. She doubted she would ever see sights like this again.

Like all good things in Twilight’s life, when she set her attention on it the ride was over in a blink. The desert gave way to an ugly, rocky sort of land that smelled of saltwater and promised horrid humidity. Fort Dressage, a small speck of distant black a few minutes past, now loomed behind the station like a fat toad. Brown buildings, tents, and fencing marred what little pleasantness the landscape might have had.

The doors burst open the second the wheels on the train stopped. A dozen guards, all in matching green cloth uniforms, stormed into the train car. They were screaming at the top of their lungs at any pony that caught their eye. The poor idiots that tried to argue attracted multiple abusers and even Twilight felt completely flustered as she yanked her bag down from the overhead storage bin. Ponies were shoving and pushing to get out of the car as quickly as possible without coming any closer to the angry cadre than they had to. Many, Twilight included, tripped and fell down to the parched wood of the train station as the harried mass behind them poured out.

“I can already tell that this is going to be the worst bunch of recruits I’ve ever seen.” Two guards were standing by the gate leading into Dressage proper. One was in the standard green uniform of the guards still on the train, but the other was in actual barding. The guard in the uniform, even without the armor of the other, was an imposing, barrel-chested earth pony stallion that strongly reminded Twilight of younger, harder Colemane.

He swept his eyes over the ponies still stumbling to get into a line. “You say that every time, Colonel, but we usually end up being surprised. I think you might be right about this group, though. I won’t be taking our usual bet.”

“Good. I feel guilty about taking a poor Sergeant’s bits. Get them into a proper line, Shattershield.”

The big earth pony reared up and jumped into the fray. Cadre and trainees alike tripped over themselves getting out of his way as he stormed through them. “Lines, lines!” he screamed. Ponies worked into a frenzy trying to get where the guard wanted them.

Twilight was scrunched into the middle of the stack. Ponies were pushing on either side of her, knocking her out of attention, so she did the only thing she could – she pushed back. That got her the breathing room she wanted, but also the attention of Sergeant Shattershield.

He stormed up to her breathing like a dragon on a rampage. “You! You think you can just shove your way through your classmates?!” The brim of his campaign hat thwacked Twilight square in the forehead and she could see every little vein in his neck as he glared down at her.

Unlike the kind of rhetorical scoldings Twilight had gotten in ROTC, the sergeant was clearly waiting on some kind of answer. “Ah, well,” she sputtered, eyes rapidly dwindling down to pinpricks. “They weren’t moving fast enough?”

“Oh, Trainee ROTC wants to go fast. Well, I think my little exercise yard can help you out.”

The surrounding cadre only left one way to go and only one speed to go at it. Twilight broke out into a dead gallop, initially surging past the earth ponies and unicorns following her, but they caught up and managed to both run and berate her at the same time, which would have been impressive if Twilight wasn't so terrified. They did one, then two, then three laps before Shattershield waved them off halfway through the fourth lap.

"Still feel like going fast?" he asked when Twilight stumbled over the finish line, chest heaving and shivering from stress. She managed a weak, "No, Sir," and found a place at the edge of the formation. She didn't even have the energy to glare at Lightning Dust when she sent Twilight a smug look.

The armor-wearing colonel stepped up to the line. He didn't look nearly as hostile as Shattershield as he eyed every trainee and only stopped to make adjustments to ponies who had absolutely no idea how to stand at attention.

Twilight struggled to control her breathing as he finally got to her. He looked at her horn, her mane, and then leaned over and took a glance at her cutie mark. "You must be Shining Armor's little sister," he murmured, low enough that only the ponies directly around them could probably hear. "He was a troublemaker, your brother. He got paperwork and extra duties just about every week of training and you look like you're cut from the same cloth. I hope that you had another job offer before you stepped on that train, Rotzee. I have a feeling you're going to be crawling back to it before we're done with you."

Shining Armor! Twilight clenched her teeth and made a metal note to write her brother a letter when she got a chance. Shattershield snorted at her lack of an answer and walked back to the front.

"Well, I see some glimmers of the future once you've all gotten into a proper formation, but also some nails that need to be hammered down." Twilight didn't miss the look the colonel shot her way when he said that. "I trust my training team to turn you ponies into a unified fighting force, proud and capable of carrying on the tradition of the Equestrian Guard."

He turned smartly to the sergeant. "Sergeant Shattershield!"

"Sir!"

"I hereby turn over training of Harass 569. The princess gave us civilians..."

Shattershield snapped to attention and gave a crisp salute. "...and I will give her warriors! Thank you, Sir. My team will not disappoint."

The colonel saluted him back. "It never has. As you will, Sergeant." With that bit of ceremony over, the armored officer and his support staff walked off the field.

All of the cadre watched him leave like vultures waiting on a lion. When the last of his group left the field, they all gave each other smug looks and nasty grins.

Shattershield's smile was worst of all as he looked over the fresh harass. "And now every single one of you are mine for the next eight weeks. And I see a lot of nails that need to be hammered. Let's go see your new digs."

More than half of the ponies made a horrible mistake - they started walking after the sergeant as a disorganized group. Instantly the cadre were on them, yelling and screaming until they all got back into rank and file. They didn't provide direction, though, and Shattershield was still walking. "I don't hear you following me!" he shouted, not looking back. Most of the trainees were growing more and more distressed and a few haltingly started walking again until they were glared back into line by another trainer.

Twilight licked her dry lips. She had an idea of what they were waiting on someone to do, but Twilight didn't know if she should be the one to do it. The colonel had called her a troublemaker, but didn't that mean she should strive to prove him wrong?

She glanced over at one of the other uniformed ROTC cadets. They seemed just as scared and confused as the civilians. Further down the line, Lightning Dust was still at attention and looked like she was trying to keep from laughing at the small circus the formation was becoming.

Twilight pushed down her fear and cleared her throat. "Harass! A-tench-hut!"

Her cry went through the quiet field like a shot. Every cadre head swiveled to her like they were possessed and a few stomped over to her, looming like statues. Silent, but waiting eagerly for her to screw up. Sweat was beginning to slide down the collar of her uniform.

"Forward, march! Hut-two-three-four, hut-two-three four! Keep your hooves in time with the cadence! Look at the pony to your right out of the corner of your eye and keep pace with them. Hut-two-three-four, hut-two-three-four!"

It was, without a doubt, the worst marching Twilight had ever seen. Ponies in the second and third lines ran into those ahead of them and everyone was out of step, but if you were at a distance and squinting it might have looked like a formation. Maybe. Just the attempt seemed to be enough for the cadre, though. They left Twilight as quickly as they had appeared and set about helping the worst marchers with less-than-stinging corrections as they moved. As she called cadence, Twilight wondered if she ever looked so awkward.

Shattershield led the group through the exercise yard and onto what seemed like the main (dirt) road of the base. Ponies not directly involved in training gave them the right of way with only a few odd looks at their marching. The only time they drew a lot of attention was when Twilight tried to get them to make a coordinated turn around a crossroad. That was predictably a train wreck.

"You ponies are going to just love our accommodations here at Dressage," Shattershield opined. "Finest room and board in the Guard. You want nice beds? We've got nice beds. You want three meals a day? You've got three meals a day. You want personal fitness trainers? We've even got those." He looked over his shoulder. "Personally I think the modern military is a bit too good to you trainees these days. This is practically a vacation."

No one was really in the mood to be quite that gullible again, especially not after the stunt he had pulled at the beginning of the march. A few ponies dared to hope, though.

That hope was ruthlessly gutted like a fish when the sergeant finally motioned for them to halt in front of an empty field. Well, not quite so empty. Twilight spotted a mound of what looked like dirt at first blush, but squinting she could see it was a stack of massive green duffle bags.

Lightning Dust, likely steaming over how she had to march to Twilight's orders, looked from one end of the field to the other. "I don't see anything," she blurted.

"You have to use your imagination, Trainee." He looked up and down the formation, clicking his tongue. "Now, who here seems like they have a great imagination.." His eyes landed on Twilight. "Sparkle! Get up here. On the double! Run, run! Show some expediency! Alright. So, we have here Trainee Rotzee who is going to help with my little demonstration. You all only see an empty field, but Trainee Rotzee sees a five-star hotel. And you know what? She's going to make that imagination a reality."

The big stallion pointed to the mound of duffle bags with his hoof. "You might be asking where your rooms are. Well, that's them. Military-grade surplus campaign tents. Why don't you go grab one for yourself?"

Fortunately, Twilight's eye rolling was hidden by the thick rims of her glasses. She trotted over to the stack of tents and lifted one with her magic.

"Hold! I said to grab a tent, Trainee Rotzee! Not levitate." Shattershield turned to the formation. "This goes for all of you," he said with a glare. "There is no magic or flying at Fort Dressage outside of your specialized training sessions, which will begin in Week 3 - if you make it that long. Until then you do things with your hooves and your teeth."

The pegasi looked heartbroken at not being able to fly for three weeks, but the unicorns in the harass turned ashen. Doing hard physical labor without levitation? It was what made a unicorn a unicorn!

Twilight simply threw the bag onto her back and trotted back at the same pace she'd gone over. The cadre, who had been waiting for a good excuse to jump her, couldn't completely hide their disappointment. Even Shattershield frowned.

"Do you want it back here, Sir, or would you like it in center field?" Twilight asked, careful to keep her voice level.

His eyes narrowed. "Center field."

Twilight caught the strap of the duffle bag in her teeth and tossed her head. The heavy bag sailed through the air like graceful sack of potatoes before landing squarely in the middle of the training area.

If that little display of prowess was supposed to endear her to the the sergeant, it didn't work. He looked at the bag, then at Twilight, and smiled. "Very impressive, Trainee Rotzee. Now - put it together without magic."

Twilight stepped over to the bag and unzipped it. A dozen different pipes and tubes immediately tumbled out, along with a roll of fabric that partially unwound itself like a party streamer across the grass.

"Whoops. Looks like the last bunch of ingrates didn't properly stow their tents! Sorry about that, Trainees. Looks like you'll have to be better Guards than they were."

There were stakes at the bottom of the bag along with a hammer. No instructions, but Twilight went to pulling everything out anyway. She staked down one half of the tent, pulled it tight with her teeth, and staked down the other side. It was small tent, designed for two ponies at the most.

The ease of setup ended with the last stake. The poles that acted as the skeleton had to be bowed to loop over the top of the tent. Without her magic, Twilight struggled with it for a few minutes before she turned to the sergeant. "Sir, I need help with the poles," she said, trying to ignore the way Lightning Dust was smirking at her.

"Congratulations, Trainee Rotzee. It only took you half an hour to finally get that though your skull. These tents are to be set up using the buddy system. Trainee Giggles, get over there. You're going to be her buddy."

Lightning Dust's smirk soured. She flexed her wings to fly over, but a unicorn instructor pushed them back to her sides with his magic. "No flying," she snapped, and Lightning Dust clenched her jaw and walked over to the tent.

She glared at Twilight like it was her fault. "Hold the end of the pole when I push it through the loops," Twilight said. She wanted to get this over just as fast as Lightning Dust did.

"How about you hold the end of the pole and I'll push it through," Lightning Dust snapped. She didn't wait for an answer and began trying to pick the rod up with just her hooves.

"Use your teeth," Twilight snapped right back. "You won't get it with your hooves. You're just --"

Shattershield stomped over to their tent. "Are you two done with your little committee yet? I told you to get this tent up! What part of that didn't you two understand?!"

"Well, Sir, I was just trying to get it done but Twilight wouldn't hold the tent right and--"

The massive earth pony just glared down at Lighting Dust. "Move," he ordered, and the pegasus got out of the way so quick she might as well been flying. He rooted around in the bag and pulled out all the little intricate parts and fasteners that connected the poles to the fabric of the tent. He set about putting them all on, with his mouth, in a matter of minutes. Twilight could barely follow what he was doing it was so swift.

"Stop gawking and grab that damn pole, Sparkle."

Twilight went right to it and bit down on the metal with her teeth. It had a plastic film over it, which made it easy to grip. Shattershield took the other end and bowed the rod with a simple twist of his head and the round dome of the tent popped up. He stomped over to the other crosspiece and they had the entire thing up in less than a minute without breaking any more of a sweat.

"And that," he called out, gesturing to the tent behind him, "is your new home for the next six weeks. These tents are precious government materials, so I expect them to be in the same condition you found them in. If you rip or tear them up, we'll know. And we'll take it out of your hide."

Shattershield looked around at the formation. "What the hell are you all doing standing there like slack-jawed idiots? Get to putting up your damn tents!" Ponies scattered like ants, encouraged by the cadre snapping at their heels.

His head swiveled to Twilight and Lightning Dust. "And you two. I expect two fine future lieutenants like yourselves to take the lead on this. No pony left behind without a tent, do you hear me? I want all of these tents up before lights out tonight at 2000. Get it done or there will be absolute hell to pay."

Eight o'clock. Twilight looked up at the sun and wagered they only had about three hours left, including dinner if they got it. They had close to fifty tents to get up and she could already see ponies having trouble. The cadre were walking around, yelling at the ponies who tried to levitate or fly without thinking. They weren't helping with the tents, though.

"Okay, Lightning Dust, we need to get..." Twilight looked around. Both Shattershield and Lightning Dust were gone, leaving Twilight standing like an idiot by her own tent. She took a deep breath and let it all out in a long sigh. This was going to be a long eight weeks.

Author's Note

And we add another main character!

Also, Twilight's training isn't supposed to be a 1:1 of what real boot camp is like, so don't point out inconsistencies. I went through Air Force basic nearly two years ago - my memory is shaky. Expect a little bit of real-life stuff mixed with popular culture and my own unique twists.

Chapter 7

Twilight collapsed onto her cot. Out of everything in her short life, she wouldn’t have imagined that pitching fifty tents in three hours would be her wall. And yet, here she was, muscles burning, lips cracked, and wishing she could get the taste of government-issued tent out of mouth. She had a new appreciation for earth ponies and what they went through without magic or wings to manipulate things which, the annoyingly analytical part of her brain reasoned, was one of the reasons for the no flying and no magic rule.

Comfort wasn’t something Twilight found easily, but exhaustion helped with that. Her bag of gear was a suitable pillow and her ROTC coat was a decent blanket. She tucked into the tightest ball she could, snuggled up to her dufflebag, and started to drift off.

Until the flap opened and Lightning Dust stomped in, followed by her gear.

“They told me we’re sharing a tent,” she spat, preempting Twilight’s anger with her own.

Twilight looked around her tent. There was barely enough room for her own things, to say nothing of another pony. “There were fifty tents! I counted them!”

Lightning Dust started dragging her own cot into the tent. “One is for the field supplies. Cadre sends their apologies for the oversight.” With both their gear, the cots were practically pushed up next to each other into a double. Lightning Dust looked about as pleased with that situation as Twilight felt.

She put her bag between them, which fell mostly on Twilight’s side. “Cross that line and you’re dead,” Lightning Dust warned.

Twilight snorted and pushed the bag back onto the other mare’s side. “Don’t worry, you’re not my type,” she snapped.

“High-octane awesomeness is everyone’s type, Sparkle,” Lightning Dust answered. She flopped down onto her cot without a care how much it would knock Twilight around. A moment later Lightning Dust’s head popped up over the bag dividing them, a rakish smile on her lips. “Too bad for you, awesomeness also has standards.”

The unicorn flushed, but she recovered in record time. Twilight had years of experience being an asshole, after all. “You’re right. I don’t think I can crawl low enough to get under the bar you probably normally set for your partners.”

Real anger flashed across Lightning Dust’s face, illuminated by the thin bit of floodlight that came through the haphazard tent flap. She opened her mouth and snapped it back closed after a second. Instead of being witty, she just threw herself back down onto her cot, knocking Twilight around again, and gave their bag divider a solid shove.

Twilight counted it as a win. Not that I’m keeping count or anything, she lied to herself. Twilight had matured past being a bully, but some personality traits never went away once they were firmly established. Shutting up someone like Lightning Dust would, Twilight thought, would always be therapeutic.

Tomorrow, though - tomorrow she would have to get a new bunk-mate. Otherwise she was sure they’d end up murdering each other before the first week was out.

--- Defense in Depth Chapter 7 - Kasserine Pass, Part 1---

“More bubbles, Your Majesty?”

Princess Cadance looked up from her book; white suds were beginning to crest the middle of her barrel, so she shook her head. “No thank you, Moondrop.” She replaced her bookmark and handed off the dime store paperback (a not-so-secret vice of hers) over to a different attendant. “I shouldn’t spend too long here anyway. Auntie wanted to share breakfast with me this morning.”

That meant only the briefest of pampering - just a quick hour of getting her mane ready, her coat powdered, dried, and brushed, her hooves filed and trimmed, her fetlocks retouched, and a good horn polishing. Barbaric is what it was, but for Auntie Celestia there was very little Cadance wouldn’t do. Or forgo doing, as it were.

Summer Breeze fell into step with her the moment she was out of the royal bath. “You have a ribbon cutting at ten and an elementary school recital to officiate at noon,” she said, in a clipped, professional tone that didn’t betray how new she was at her job.

“I will be having breakfast with Princess Celestia until she wishes to release me,” Cadance stated, and Summer immediately began scribbling on her schedule in case it went long.

Cadance had to remind herself not to be so cold to the mare. They would be working together for the next few years, after all, and didn’t deserve to be the focus of Cadance’s disappointment. It wasn’t Summer’s fault that Twilight hadn’t taken her job. That her future sister-in-law wouldn’t be her partner in Canterlot. That decision was solely Twilight’s and Cadance respected her decision...mostly.

Well, maybe there was a little anger. Twilight had thought the offer was charity, but Cadance had honestly wanted to put that mare’s sharp mind to some use. Summer Breeze was easily the most qualified pony for her position, even more so than Twilight, but she wouldn’t ever push back. Twilight challenged everything. It was partially why Cadance didn’t think she’d make a good guard, royal guard or no.

I would pay good bits to see Auntie’s face the first time Twilight tells her that she won’t be fighting whatever monster of the month alone. When was the last time anyone told Auntie ‘no’ at all?

“Princess? Did you say something?”

Cadance blinked. She’d said some of that out loud, didn’t she? “Nothing, Summer Breeze.” She thought better of that for a moment and added, “Maybe look into seeing if my personal retinue could accommodate an extra guard in the future. Say a year down the road.” Summer scratched something down on her notepad again. Better to start planning ahead now.

And, speaking of Royal Guards, Cadance spotted her favorite standing outside of Celestia’s dining room. Shining Armor might have found the duty dull compared to his work on the fringes of the kingdom, but getting to see her fiancé on a regular basis was a blessing. Cadance could even schedule her lunch to mirror his most of the time, so they even got to enjoy a few stolen moments together. Another thing she probably owed her aunt for.

Her unicorn was the model of professionalism, though. When she walked up to the door he puffed himself up to full attention. “Princess Cadance,” he greeted.

“Lieutenant Armor,” she returned. Behind her, Summer Breeze had already broken off the other direction, leaving them alone in the hallway. Once Cadance couldn’t hear the unicorn any further, she darted in and stole a kiss.

Shining Armor didn’t pull away, but he made that adorable little annoyed face Cadance loved so much when she pulled back. “I’m on duty,” he said, trying to be chiding and failing.

“It was a military bearing test. You passed with flying colors.” She leaned in again and pecked his cheek.

“What was that one?”

Cadance smiled. “Your reward, of course. How’s Auntie this morning?”

It was just a habit to ask at this point. Auntie was Auntie, after all, but today Shining Armor’s smile turned strained. “I...think she might be mad at me,” he answered, hesitantly. “She didn’t say two words to me when she came in. Roan, the sergeant that usually pulls the night duty outside her room, said she’s been like that since she got back last night.”

“Well, I suppose I better see what’s wrong. Probably just another eldritch abomination attack she’ll have to deal with.”

“We can hope.”

Cadance bumped him with her hip as she passed. “As you were, Lieutenant Armor,” she whispered in that special way she knew he liked. A strong burst of magic opened the massive, ancient door to Celestia’s dining room and she stepped through.

It was as if the door was a portal to another age. The royal dining room was, perhaps, one of the only rooms in the palace that never got remodeled and Cadance always felt supremely out of place. Most ponies did. There was a chance that was Celestia’s intent behind the ancient motif, but Cadance knew what her aunt’s private wing of the castle was like. Celestia just felt more at home here among crystal chandeliers and candlelight than electric bulbs and modern convenience.

The very alicorn herself was an entire room away, at the head of her solid oak table. The thing dominated most of the space and Celestia had once told her that it came from a single tree, though Cadance didn’t see how such a thing was possible. “Trees used to be much bigger,” her aunt had said with a wink when she’d asked about it.

Celestia didn’t seem to be in a winking mood today, though. Cadance awkwardly stood by the door and Celestia made her wait a solid minute before her usual, “Niece. Join me for breakfast?” was called out.

She’s mad, Cadance thought as she trotted up to her normal place. Celestia wasn’t alone - her student, Sunset Shimmer, was there as well, seated to Celestia’s left. For once, the mare was quiet. She snuck furtive glances at her mentor as she pushed her food around on her plate, waiting. She’d likely already tested the waters today and had gotten snapped at; it was about the only thing that could keep her tongue in check.

The moment Cadance was seated, Celestia’s private wait staff brought her a plate; assorted fruit and pancakes. At least Celestia’s mood didn’t affect the delicious fare she was offering. Sunset still had a great deal left on her plate, though, and Cadance couldn’t imagine eating very much in this type of atmosphere. Even sipping her juice seemed--

“Twilight Sparkle.”

A name. A cause. A reason. Cadance licked her dry lips. Shining Armor had been half right; he wasn’t the member of his family that Celestia was upset with, though. “Yes, Auntie?”

The Canterlot Cable newspaper that Celestia had been reading neatly folded in a golden hue of magic and Cadance now had the living goddess’ undivided attention. On a normal day, that could make a pony feel like they were walking on clouds, but Cadance felt coals beneath her hooves when those purple eyes settled on hers.

“I attended the unicorn trials at the military entrance examination yesterday, Niece. Your friend is supremely talented, though her manner could use some some refinement. I am surprised your demeanor did not rub off on her, over the course of your friendship.”

She’d met Twilight. For one moment, Cadance felt nothing but happiness for her friend. It had been what Twilight had been working for her entire life, and she’d done it. But, just as quickly, that happiness turned to dread. Celestia never attended those things undisguised. And her aunt had a (bad) habit of pushing a pony.

And Twilight Sparkle, no matter how much she’d matured, was not the type of mare to take to being pushed. She shoved back.

“What did yo...she...do, Auntie?”

Celestia didn’t miss the slip and her eyes narrowed. “She kicked me out of her hospital room after berating me and insulting the Magisterium.”

“Her hospital room? What happened to he-”

Celestia diffused Cadance’s heat before it could start boiling over. “Magical exhaustion after the ring test. She was out for a few hours, but she made it to her train in time. Likely she is already pitching tents at Dressage.”

Across the table, Sunset Shimmer snorted. “A few hours for just the ring test? Why are we talking about this unicorn again?” Celestia’s attention slid over to her student for a moment and the amber unicorn’s smug look evaporated.

“Because, my talented student, she completed the test.”

There was dead silence in the room. Cadance licked her lips again. “Auntie, when you say ‘completed’, you mean...?”

“All seven rings. Even in the middle of the seventh, she could still cast.”

“Impossible!” Sunset Shimmer yelled, front hooves up on the table. This time Celestia’s stare didn’t calm the mare. “I was the baseline for those rings and even I could only get to six! It malfunctioned!”

An orange floated up from Celestia’s plate. With a quick flash of magic, the outer skin was vaporized. Calmly, Celestia said, “There was no malfunction, Sunset. I was one of the proctors for the exam. I watched her do it.” She took a dainty bite and let her statement fully settle in. “But you must remember that young unicorns develop at different speeds. Twilight Sparkle may have simply come into her full power earlier than you. Or was, perhaps, more motivated at that particular moment.”

Or, perhaps, she is simply more powerful was left unspoken, but not unstated.

“I did say she was talented,” Cadance muttered, though she didn’t truly believe it just yet. The rings at the military processing center had been considered technological marvels three years ago when they’d been installed, and as a royal alicorn Cadance had been present with her aunt when they’d first been switched on. She remembered the feeling of distinct unease just from being close to the things. Even Shining Armor had only cleared three of them.

“You did. And it was my mistake to not have listened more closely at the time. I’m attempting to correct that and I may need your assistance convincing her to join the Magisterium instead of the Royal Guard.”

Cadance let out a shaky laugh. “There is only one princess in this room that could convince her to do that. Just ask her yourself, no costumes or illusion spells, and she’d do it in a heartbeat.”

The larger alicorn drew back, frowning. “I guessed as much, but I cannot. Twilight Sparkle must come to the decision without my direct appeal if she is to recognize her true potential.”

“You’re playing your games again, Auntie. If you really listen to anything I say to you, asking her yourself is the only way you’ll do it.” Celestia frowned deeper and Cadance wanted to give her aunt a good shake. “She’s my best friend. I know her. You have been her entire world since you sent her that letter years ago. You are the only reason she wants to even be a guard. Did you see her cutie mark? She got that right after she read your letter. It’s not going to magically go away.”

“You want the princess to beg some random unicorn to join the Magisterium?” Sunset demanded. Her eyes were sharp again, having lost the wildness they’d had a moment again. As quick to lose her temper as she was, Sunset could recover just as fast when she smelled a chance to puff herself up. “Royalty doesn’t beg; royalty orders.”

Cadance bristled. “I won’t order my future sister-in-law to give up her dreams.” She turned to Celestia. It was now or never. “Auntie, if Twilight is so talented, why not just take her on as a student?” Sunset, predictably, erupted across the table, but Cadance had the alicorn’s attention. She could do this for Twilight. “Weren’t you saying that Sunset had almost learned all she could in Canterlot? That would give you time for a new student. I know Twilight is older than normal, but isn’t this a special circumstance? She would be the most faithful student you ever had if you took her on. She would work herself to the bone to make you happy.”

One last arrow in the quiver. “And...and it would be a wonderful wedding gift to me for you to take her on. So we could work at the castle. Together.” It was her most blatant card to play, the most obvious, but Cadance could see it hit bulls-eye. She let out a deep breath of air when the ancient ruler’s head dipped, just as Sunset let out an indignant “What?!”

“If that is what you wish from me, then so be it, my niece. Sunset, Cadance is correct about your training. It is almost time for you to begin your field studies where you will develop your own spells and your own ways of dealing with issues facing our kingdom. It’s what you’ve wanted, isn’t it? More freedom?”

Sunset sputtered. “I...I...of course! I just want you to treat me like an adult. Like a true mage.” She looked down at her food, not frowning, but not smiling. “I’ve lost my appetite,” she declared, and pushed away from the table. Celestia’s face was carefully neutral as her student nearly bolted out of the room, but Cadance could see the worry in the alicorn’s eyes. And the pain.

“She loves you,” Cadance murmured after a moment. “It’s her only good trait.”

Celestia’s nose twitched. It was the only real show of annoyance she did when she wasn’t in private. “She has many good traits, only they may not be suited for this day and age.” The ruler of Equestria did allow herself a small sigh, which was as telling as anything about her mood. Her half-eaten orange flopped back down onto her plate. “After the solstice I will remove Twilight Sparkle from the Royal Guard as my personal student.”

The affirmation lightened Cadance’s spirits. “So even you think she’ll make it?” she asked, finally getting down to her breakfast.

“So I hope. Fort Dressage will, I think, prove to be an adequate first lesson to my future faithful student.”

A bite of pancake hovered just beyond Cadance’s lips. “Auntie, that sounded...ominous.”

Celestia smiled.

Author's Note

Over the last few weeks I saw a few people put this into their "dead stories" libraries. I do so love defying expectations!

Chapter 8

“Denied.”

It wasn’t the actual rejection of her request for alternate sleeping arrangements that bothered Twilight - it was the happy, almost gleeful way that Shattershield smiled at her as he did so. “Ask me something else so I can deny it too, Sparkle.”

Twilight did not, in fact, give him the pleasure. She just saluted and marched back to her tent so perfectly that none of the cadre could find an extra reason to hassle her. Inside her carefully cultivated personal control was beginning to feel the first bit of strain, though. Old goat, Twilight groused in a mental voice that sounded a bit too much like a familiar angry ten-year-old for Twilight’s liking (although she didn’t disagree).

Naturally, Lightning Dust hadn’t begun to do anything in way of getting their shared tent ready for any kind of inspection. She was doing some stupid wing exercises, stretching and push-ups and such, that looked absolutely ridiculous.

“You could help me,” Twilight growled as she pulled their bedding out with her teeth.

“You could bite me,” Lightning Dust countered without missing a beat in her preening.

That was the end of morning’s conversation.

Half an hour later, when the cadre began inspecting the tents and throwing the personal belongings of stricken recruits out all over the field when their tents had been found lacking, Twilight and Lightning Dust both stood beside their tent flap. Shattershield himself had decided to poke his nose in, but with every minute he was in there and not tossing things about it became harder and harder to not smirk. The hours of practice Twilight had put into learning proper folding techniques without her magic were paying off.

“It’s not horrible,” he declared as he stomped out. To Twilight’s aggravation, he was clearly addressing Lighting Dust “I’m somewhat impressed that managed this despite bunking with someone who begged all morning to switch tents and leave you holding the bag.”

Lightning Dust didn’t bother trying not to smirk. “What can I say, Sir? I’m a trooper.”

“And a future leader in the platoon if you keep it up.” Shattershield looked over in Twilight’s direction with disdain. “Learn something while you’re here about being a good bunkmate. This isn’t a one-pony show, Sparkle. I better not see this tent ever falling from this performance, because if it does I know exactly which slacker will need some attitude adjustment.”

Twilight was sure the inside of her mouth was bleeding from how strongly she was biting it. If I break Lightning’s jaw, they’ll kick me out, she thought. But it was initial training; accidents happened...if Twilight had still been that type of pony. That pony had been put to pasture years ago. She was a team player now, not an angry loner.

Lightning Dust saluted. “I’ll keep a close eye on the slacker, Sir. I’ll make sure she won’t let the platoon down.”

An electrical pop came from Twilight’s horn before she could reign the involuntary surge of magic in. Lightning Dust jumped like a scared filly and Shattershield’s nose flared.

“Looks like Trainee Slacker can’t even remember the basic rules. No. Magic.” He jerked his hoof at the edge of the field. “Start running. I don’t want to see you stop until every single one of your fellow trainees are finished with their inspections.” Twilight didn’t move; she was too stunned. The stallion’s frown deepened and he got right into her face, so close his wide-brimmed hat tapped on her horn. “Didn’t you hear me, Trainee? If you don’t get running right this second I will take it as your official authorization to begin your exit paperwork from my program. Do you understand me?”

Another pop. The smell of ozone was so strong Twilight was nearly gagging - both on the horrible taste of magic with no outlet and her own boiling anger. It took everything she had to clamp down on both. “I...I understand you, Sir.”

“Then get running.”

So Twilight ran; she ran until the very last pony passed their inspection, until she didn’t feel like popping Lightning Dust’s head like a balloon, and until her body was too sore to even think about casting anything on autopilot. When Twilight finally plodded up to the formation she was soaked in sweat from horn to hooves, but she had stomped all her stoked anger and resentment back down into the dull embers she’d learned to deal with.

It had taken the rest of the platoon until midday to properly stow their gear, which meant it was time for chow. Which meant leaving their area. Twilight didn’t even attempt to take the spot of lead pony like she had the previous day. The one the cadre appointed to get them sized was, naturally, Lightning Dust. She trotted up and down the line, pushing and shoving when she needed to to get ponies properly lined up and ready to go. She hip-checked Twilight and sent her stumbling into the ponies a line over. “Stay in line, Slacker,” she called out, already moving on to her next victim.

Marching here wasn’t much different than in ROTC. Twilight already knew how to canter and charge in formation, so slow trotting wasn’t something she had to actively pay attention to. She watched how Lightning Dust ran the platoon instead. The ponies she’d sat with on the train were now her element leaders - a tall, bulky pegasus stallion, a slightly-smaller pegasus mare, an earth pony still sporting his dyed mohawk, and, to Twilight’s surprise, a unicorn mare she’d gone through processing with. Judging how the other four ignored her, the unicorn had been a cadre pick. She was watching the earth pony for cues on how to march and her entire line was suffering.

The entire group of cadre descended like seagulls on baby turtles the moment Lightning Dust started calling cadence - this pony wasn’t trotting in time with the others, that one was looking around, this one over here didn’t seem to even realize they were marching - it was complete chaos and for once Twilight wasn’t the one getting chewed out.

Eat it, Twilight thought as Shattershield spent a solid minute watching her trot, only to wheel away in visible annoyance when he couldn’t find anything wrong. She was pin-sharp. As long as she stayed that way out in the open, it seemed like the sergeant wouldn’t, or couldn’t, take the opportunity to screw her over.

His attention didn’t stop until the platoon was at the chow tent Or, rather, chow tent complex. The platoon’s camping ground was the same size, but its emptiness was contrasted with this one’s fullness. There were three massive tents all teeming with ponies.

It was easy to spot the other fresh platoons. Their cadre were all swarming and screaming as much as Twilight’s as they fumbled through the chow line without using wings or magic. Some poor ponies had clearly never used their mouths for anything other than eating because there was spilled food everywhere. Gradually, though, Twilight adjusted to the noise and picked out the “older” trainees, which was the bulk of the crowd.

They were sizing up the new platoons, as were their cadre.

Shattershield took personal command of the platoon when they started lining up for their food. He told them how to stand (at attention), how to order (quickly and politely), and where to sit (the cramped bit of grass given to them). There was no socializing of any kind. The ponies serving were quiet and the only spoken word was when the trainees asked for certain things. Still, the scrape of knives, forks, and spoons was a welcome break of the silence.

When everyone had gotten their food, Shattershield stomped up to the front of the group. “You have fifteen minutes to down as much of that as you can.” Those poor ponies who had gotten a full plate started shoveling their food. “Today you will get those manes shaved, you’ll get properly shod, and we’ll see where you all stand on your physicals. If you manage all that without screwing up too badly, we might have some free exercise this afternoon where you can stretch your legs. Or wings. Or horns. You screw it up and I will have you all back here tonight peeling potatoes for dinner.”

He pointed to Lightning Dust, who was eating near the front. “Trainee Lightning Dust will be your platoon leader until she screws it up. If you need anything from the cadre, you ask through her. If she isn’t available and it can’t wait, you find one of her element leaders. We care about you breaking a leg or your neck, not about how you threw a horseshoe. Understood?”

Twilight nodded along with the rest of the platoon, even though she wanted to do nothing more than buck the smarmy pegasus into next week. Shining Armor had told her that being the platoon leader, or even an element leader, was a major thing when it came to being selected for the Royal Guard and now she was effectively locked out. Shattershield was clearly out to get her and Lightning Dust wouldn’t make her an element leader.

A moment before the clock on the cow tent’s central poll clicked over, Shattershield stomped his hooves. “That’s fifteen! Throw your garbage away and get lined up! On the double! Platoon Leader get your troops in order!”

There was no missing the snide laughing from the other sergeants as their group fumbled around to get back into ranks. At least this time Lightning Dust didn’t push her; Twilight didn’t think she’d be able to take the mare’s attitude right then without one of them getting bucked.

It turned out that there were other ways for either the cadre or Lightning Dust to get at her than outright bullying; Lightning Dust was great a passing off busywork to her at the drop of a hat. At the barber, Twilight had to ‘manage the line’, which ensured she was the last to get a (rushed) cut on both her mane and fetlocks which made her seem like a knife attack survivor. At the blacksmith, Shattershield made her carry nails and horseshoes from the sweltering area around the forge. At one point her tail caught fire and she had to dunk it in the water barrel and even the screaming cadre couldn’t scare the platoon off its snickering at Twilight’s expense.

After all of that, though, there were still the physicals before dinner. All guards, no matter their jobs, had to pass a basic equestrian physical of barrel weaving, weight pulling, and a flat mile sprint in under two minutes. Of all the trainees, it was the dozen or so unicorns that had the worst of it; only Twilight could achieve a passing grade, but even she only really stood out on the mile sprint where she placed in the middle of a pack of startled pegasi.

Shattershield berated the failures and reminded them they had eight weeks to shape up or they’d get the boot. Despite all his fire and fury, though, he still let them have their hour of free exercise time - “Because,” he spat, “you sacks of fat need it.” Rather, he and the other cadre mostly disappeared into their bunkhouse for a break themselves. Managing fifty fresh recruits was a bit much for only a half-dozen trainers.

While they did whatever it was they needed to do to unwind before sleep, the platoon was left largely to its own devices. Many of the pegasi simply fluttered about like fillies. They didn’t go too high or too far, but they seemed to enjoy it well enough as they zipped through the little tent city like an obstacle course. Even Lightning Dust seemed a bit overwhelmed by the feeling of simply flying for a few minutes; she completely ignored Twilight as she darted by with her friends.

Some ponies just sat and watched the air show, but Twilight had eyes for only one thing - the iron plow weights that sat at the edge of the field. They were for earth ponies to pull and tug, and Twilight could pull the smaller hundred and two hundred pounds herself, but she only wanted them for one thing.

She trotted past a pair of earth ponies suiting up for a team pull, ignoring their confused looks, and stopped in front of the main stack of weights.

Magic flowed, unbound, for the first time in two days. Her pale orchid-colored magic grabbed the stack like a massive clawed fist and Twilight feels the weight throughout her body like it was sitting on her shoulders.

“You’re going to strain something,” someone called out. Twilight tuned out the noise and gripped tighter with her telekinesis. Her hooves sank down into the cracked soil of the camp as she bears the entire weight on the tip of her horn, pulling and lifting with a strain that pops all the muscles in her body.

Slowly, impossibly, the tremendous weights shift.

Ponies danced back as pops of lightning lashed out from the expanding cloud of magic surrounding the weights, but the small risk didn't stop them from gawking at the show. Twilight clenched her teeth and lifted her neck to magically tug the entire stack up into the air.

Some ponies clapped their hooves and Twilight opened her eyes. A crowd had formed and stared up at the dozen large lead bars hovering above their heads. Twilight tightens her grip; some of the non-unicorns stood under them, gawking, not knowing how tenuous her hold was.

“All of you, get out from under there!” a chestnut-coated unicorn called out, preempting Twilight. “She’s exercising! Would you all like someone to bother you while you’re pulling weights?” The unicorn, a mare, then stepped up to Twilight. “Do you need spotting?”

Twilight’s eyes flick up to the weights. She’s holding firm, but there was a thick sheen of sweat building up all over her body.

It was manageable.

“I’m good.” The mare nods and steps back, watching with the rest - from a respectable distance.

She pulls the weights higher and sets them spinning. It’s slow, but the added strain is enough to make Twilight’s knees shake. The bars do three full turns and then Twilight lets them drop the twenty or so feet back down to earth.

The unicorn mare was the first pony to trot up to her. “I don’t need to tell you that was incredible,” she said. “That was one of the heaviest lifts I’ve seen outside of strong unicorn competitions.”

Twilight smiled through gasping breaths. It was the heaviest lift she’d ever done, but she’d needed to burn off her anger and give her magic an outlet. And maybe show off, just a little, to remind ponies that she was here even if not as an element or platoon leader.

With that in mind, she stood straight and locked her legs to stop the shaking as other ponies came up to her to either congratulate or gawk. The mare, a slightly smaller, svelte unicorn, didn’t go far. After things had settled, she approached again.

“Would you like to join me? I’m starting a bit of a club with some friends, and I think you’d be a perfect fit.”

Twilight nodded and let herself be led back to the tents. The unicorn, Bay Orchid, as she introduced herself, was an element leader appointed by Shattershield - the only unicorn element leader.

“You’re a daughter of the Canterlot Sparkles, yes?” Bay Orchid asked as they came upon her tent. Twilight saw several ponies lounging about, talking in clutches in and around the nearby tents.

“The only daughter,” Twilight answered. Bay Orchid nodded and motioned to a small campaign chair sitting outside of her tent.

“Please, sit. That must have been exhausting, even for a pony such as yourself. I have a canteen there, by the chair leg.”

Twilight didn’t turn down the water or the rest. She chugged the entire canteen while other ponies goggled or spoke behind their hooves.

The attention didn’t bother Twilight and she still drank her fill. “So,” she said, “you’re putting together a noble cadre?”

“I wouldn’t call it a ‘cadre’, exactly. Just a social group of ponies I feel like it should be my business to know.” Bay Orchid levitated out another chair from her tent and set it close to Twilight. “Officer candidates, ponies from good families, and Celestia School graduates.”

Twilight snorted. “I’m two out of three.” Bay Orchid raised an eyebrow. “I never got into Celestia’s school. They didn’t accept me.”

“Truly?” Twilight turned and sized up the unicorn stallion now walking up to them. He looked a bit older, and a bit posher, than Bay Orchid. “I thought I recognized you for a moment, only with a different color mane and glasses.” He shook the thought away and held his hoof out. “You said your name was Twilight Sparkle, correct? I am Noble Cause.”

“I didn’t see either of you at in-processing,” Twilight said. She looked around the dozen or so ponies, all either unicorns or pegasi. “I don’t see anyone I came in with, actually.”

Bay Orchid waved it away. “We were direct entrants from the officer training course offered at the School. We’ve already been tested and judged. We still had to go through the rings, mind. Where you impressed so many.”

“It was a display,” Noble Cause agreed, and Twilight found herself blushing just a bit at his controlled enthusiasm. “That magister presiding over the test was almost salivating over you at the end. I expect you will be an incredible magister!”

Twilight’s ears flattened. “Right. A magister.”

Another pony called out, “They did extend an offer to you, did they not? I cannot imagine that they would let you slip through their hooves!” Several other eavesdroppers nodded along.

When Twilight hadn’t been watching, she’d become the group’s center of attention. “I...uh, the magister did ask me to join...”

Twilight’s eyes met Bay Orchid’s and the mare pulled back. “You declined, didn’t you? My goodness! I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a unicorn turning down the Magisterium!”

Ponies looked at her like she was insane. That Twilight knew how to deal with. She was used to being the pariah. “Well, I did. I joined to be a Royal Guard or nothing at all.” She smiled at all the scandalized faces.

Scandalized, except for Bay Orchid. In her eyes she saw calculation; the same Twilight had leveled at other ponies throughout her life. How can this pony help me get to where I want to go? How much trouble will they be? How much will their help cost?

Twilight’s lip quirked, and Bay Orchid smiled back. “I think that’s a wonderful goal, Twilight,” she announced, and instantly brought the gossiping of her clique to an end. “The Royal Guard is at the very center of Canterlot, after all,” she said, airily. “You will rub shoulders with the brightest and grandest of the nobility, the real movers and shakers of our country. I believe your brother is already a member, yes? You are practically carving out a dynasty at this point!”

Other ponies were nodding now, whether because they believed it or because the explanation was coming Bay Orchid. Noble Cause was softly stomping his hooves in approval as if the idea had been his all along. “In a few generations,” he said, “I am willing to wager that it will be tradition for a Sparkle to be the head of the Royal Guard!”

That little pronouncement got all the ponies gossiping again and they didn’t seem to notice when Bay Orchid nudged Twilight aside, around to the front of the tent.

As soon as they were out of earshot of the others, the smile Orchid had been holding back finally sprang free. “We can help each other,” she said without preamble. “I want a friend in the castle and you want to join the Royal Guard. We can both get what we want when we get out of here.”

Twilight’s eyes tightened. “I can join the Royal Guard on my own. I haven’t needed any help getting to where I am now.”

The chestnut mare waved her off with a dainty flip of her hoof. “Of course. I won’t deny your talent, not if you were turning down offers from the magisterium, but I’ve seen how the cadre here have it out for you. I can help with that.”

“…how?”

“You don’t know your noble houses,” Orchid teased. After only a little more preening, she answered, “The Bay family has many officers in it, including right here on this base. Shattershield might have it out for you, but one trainer can’t ignore it if all of a sudden he’s getting questions from his higher leadership. Completely legitimate questions, I might add, about why an ROTC graduate with the highest magical aptitude of her class isn’t at least an Element Leader in the platoon.”

Twilight mulled that over like a gourmet would a new dish set before them. Element Leader Sparkle had a unique flavor and one that she certainly found appealing. Shining Armor’s advice to go for leadership positions still rang in her head.

And it would probably piss Lightning Dust and Shattershield off something fierce.

“Could you actually deliver on that?” Twilight asked. She wasn’t going to blindly jump at any offer and she had only just met Bay Orchid. The Bay family rang a tiny, distant bell in her mind, some passage in some book she’d scanned at some point, but Twilight didn’t have any way of verifying the mare’s claims here.

Bay Orchid certainly looked the part of an affronted noble, though. Muzzle tilted up almost as high as Twilight’s horn, she scoffed, “Of course! My word is my bond, but I won’t do it for free. Partnerships are born out of what each friend can do for each other, after all.”

“The Royal Guard doesn’t influence the court,” Twilight countered. “I can’t get you perks or anything like that.”

“And I wouldn’t want them! Just information about some of the comings and goings of who visits the castle and maybe what they talk about.” Twilight made a face. “Not what they talk about to the Princess! Just maybe what they say when they think no one is listening. And our partnership doesn’t have to end here; the higher up I can get in the Office of Army Administration, that’s where I’m contracted to go, the more I can help you in your career down the line. It’s good to have friends in high places.”

I’ve turned down friends in higher places than you will ever be, Twilight thought to herself, but she wasn’t feeling the same anger and shame that Cadance had brought out. Bay Orchid wanted to cut a deal with Twilight Sparkle, future Royal Guardspony - not Twilight Sparkle, best friend to Princess Mi Amore Cadenza.

And the Office of Army Administration was a big deal. It was filled with nobility who played pivotal roles in the military of Equestria. It would be a connection, if a minor one, to some real levers of power that could get Twilight to where she wanted to go.

And they would be mine. I’ve have turned down friends higher than Orchid out of principle. Shouldn’t I try and make my own connections, then?

“Alright you lumps of fat! Playtime’s over!” Shattershield bellowed from across the yard. He was storming toward the tents with the rest of the cadre fanned out behind him. “Everyone line up for a good, old-fashioned pre-bed smoke session!”

That one sergeant could keep her out of the Royal Guard. One angry, bitter, disgruntled sergeant could undo all she’d been working toward because he hadn’t liked her brother.

If she let him. “Deal,” Twilight hissed to Bay Orchid, “but you'd better deliver.”

Bay Orchid smiled, but it wasn’t warm. It was the kind of smile Twilight would have worn years ago. “We’re going to go a long way together,” she insisted, grasping Twilight’s hoof. “Partner.”

And as the mare trotted away to answer Shattershield’s summons, Twilight discovered that her own smile was almost a mirror.

And that she didn’t mind it nearly as much as she should have.

Author's Note

Still not dead!

Also, basic military training is basically high school with guns and a few more people screaming at you.

Chapter 9

Sol Shard began his day like any other - at dawn, with a small pulse of magic that slowly brought him out of his slumber. The unicorn sat up for a moment and then, like always, slowly leaned back into his goose down pillow to try and claw back at least a few minutes back from the stingy morning.

“You used to get right up and start the day.”

The unicorn didn’t bother opening his eyes. He rolled over, burying his head into his thick duvet.

Soft, bell-like laughter managed to chase him beneath the covers. “Some things never change, I suppose. You always did dislike my mornings, even if a prompt wake up was necessary.”

One graying ear swiveled around and caught the soft movements of the defiler of his sanctum. They were looking through his cabinet (the one creaky hinge he’d been meaning to fix for the last year gave them away), moving, arranging, and tidying as if they owned the place. Despite the temptation to simply succumb to the numb twilight between sleep and wake, Sol Shard refrained.

Celestia was patient as he rolled out of bed and wisely didn’t tease him about the way his joints now creaked and cracked. He was advanced of age, but his intruder was timeless and likely knew better than to call someone else “old”. Though, the little smile on her lips that he could only just catch in the shadows made him feel the weight of ages on his shoulders.

She had a cup of coffee and he could smell it even across the room. “Come now,” she said, smiling in full at his sour expression, “it is almost past nine. Too late for you to be sleeping when there is so much to discuss.”

Sol Shard ran his tongue around his teeth, biting back the first few responses that wanted to escape. Celestia’s eyes danced.

He didn’t give her the pleasure. “Of course, Princess.” The coffee floated over to him, suspended in his strong, light brown magical grip. He sipped it and almost frowned - brewed to perfection, as always, just as sweet and creamy as he liked it.

“It’s non-coffee,” the Celestia of his memories said, turning a sleepy, petulant little glare on the cup he was holding as he climbed back into bed. “An abomination to good ponies everywhere in my kingdom.”

It was set aside. “What is the agenda for today?” he asked. “Did I miss a meeting?”

Celestia shook her head. “No, but there’s been a slight development. Something I wish to discuss with you.”

Sol Shard’s horn lit. “Slight? You do not invade the magisterium for slight, Princess.” His magic filled the room, pulling back the curtains and arranging furniture with practiced efficiency. His bed folded away into the wall and a large table built itself out of loose bricks from the ceiling, mismatched stone chairs and all. A tablecloth and throw pillows completed the set. The princess gracefully curled up into the larger of the set like a spry, regal cat while Sol Shard took a moment to retrieve his coffee and climb up.

While he finished it off, Celestia informed him of a new prospective student. Twilight Sparkle - a young unicorn mare from the Canterlot Sparkles. Never classically trained but with enormous magical potential and dedication to Equestria. In a few years she would likely be quasi-royalty herself, being the sister-in-law of Princess Cadance.

“You’re telling me nothing I do not already know,” he said, enjoying, behind the rim of his coffee mug, the slight surprise on Celestia’s face with a smile of his own. He mastered himself in a moment’s time and set the cup down to lean over the table.

“The Magisterium keeps records of all potential students to your school, Princess. As you know, the majority of your professors are former members of this very college. They pass on entrance information to us every year.”

Some of the warmth in Celestia’s expression faded. “You put my students on a list?” she asked, evenly. “That is quite the violation of privacy.”

Sol Shard waved the concern away. “A violation that you allowed when you gave the Magisterium its charter a century ago. You tasked us with keeping a tab on anyone who could help you with your ‘lunar problem’, remember? One that could wield the Element of Magic?” He leaned back, trying not to look flippant. “Of course we would watch the most visible school of magic in Equestria. We convinced you to give your student, Sunset Shimmer, another chance, did we not?”

Slowly, Celestia dipped her head in defeat. Sol Shard ignored the part of him that wanted to say something comforting. Instead, he offered, “But the process is not infallible, as you’ve discovered with Twilight Sparkle. She should have been brought to my attention long ago as more than just a side-note to her brother and future sister-in-law.”

“I’m pleased I’m not the only one who understands that.” Celestia’s voice was subdued, but it sounded a little more relieved than it had when she had been telling her story of the mare. Sol Shard allowed his princess to drop some of that lingering guilt by sharing it, which wasn’t so bad, he thought.

Still. “Well, we all missed her. That is obvious. Now what can we do to make that up? You said you agreed to take her on as a student?”

Celestia’s expression closed again, but he knew her well enough to see the guilt. “I promised Cadance I would make her a student, yes, but only after the Summer Sun Celebration.”

The unicorn clicked his tongue. “That could be a problem,” he admits, ignoring the cool look Celestia was giving him. “So, you don’t think this unicorn is a solution?”

Again Celestia’s head shook. “I do not. Twilight Sparkle is undeniably powerful. She has potential to rival any other in this kingdom, but she is untrained and her temperament is...unsuited for an Element of Harmony.”

“I assume you mean her unhealthy obsession with you?” he asked, again surprising Celestia. “Or perhaps her history of violence and cruelty as a filly which was never completely ironed-out?”

“I won’t ask how or when you received her psychological profile from her high school, but you are right. The Elements of Harmony will not respond to her, though she could be useful as a check to Sunset Shimmer.”

“Or as a suspiciously-ticking package you can send to some other nation.” Another glare. “Do not disfavor me because I understand how your mind works, Princess.” The alicorn rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue the point.

The room grew quiet for a moment - Sol Shard finishing his coffee and Celestia watching him - until the princess broke it again.

“I want her trained,” she said, firm. “Cadance is insisting on it and I wish for her to grow as well. But she must be kept from any real levers of power so that Sunset Shimmer can fulfill her destiny. Things cannot become complicated at this phase, delicate as it is.”

The real topic of the conversation was not, Sol Shard knew, a little purple unicorn off in the middle of the desert playing soldier. It wasn’t even a certain sassy little firebrand of a unicorn that badly needed a kick in the ego. It was, as always, the looming disaster. The Summer Sun Celebration.

Real emotion finally cracked the careful construction that was Sol Shard’s feigned disinterest. He looked at the alicorn. The way her wings sagged in their sockets, the way the jewels in her crown had caught stray strands of her mane, the sunken rings under her eyes. He wondered how he'd missed it from the start.

“Have we still no better plan, Celestia?”

He wished the princess had smiled then and wiped away his question like she would have for all of her other subjects. “No,” she said instead, and in that moment he hated her as fiercely as he had years ago. “But I have hope.”

“Hope will not save you when your sister plunges a spear of magic through your heart,” Sol Shard spat. He knew that Celestia did not take it as an offense. Not from him. “She is going to rip you into so many pieces because we have been unable to find a solution.” He turned to the window of his tower. It was not part of the castle proper, but it was close enough that the Magisterium was considered prime Canterlot real estate.

It had an excellent view of the castle gardens.

Celestia’s wing unfolded like a giant taking a breath and blocked the window.

“No.” She said it with all the power and gravitas at her command and even Sol Shard, Arch Magus of the Equestria Magisterium, quailed. “Nothing is worth unleashing that creature on this world again. Not even preventing my own death.” She blinked and the spell was broken. She sank back. “Not even Equestria itself, my friend.”

But you are Equestria. The thought hit harder and in a place more tender than Sol Shard thought possible. With great pains he pulled back his expression. He forced himself to nod, to at least lie a little bit, and Celestia nodded back. She was probably already dreaming a plan to stop him when the inevitable came.

The new silence in the room was not as companionable as the last. Celestia refolded her great wing as if she had only been stretching and Sol Shard pretended to consider more coffee, but the tension was palpable. Several times the unicorn opened his mouth to say something and each time Celestia waited eagerly, but he couldn’t find the right words. The imaginary comradely had well and truly died.

“What do you want, Celestia?” Sol Shard asked, hammering the last lingering coffin nail in with bluntness. “You did not disturb me today and tell me all those things about Twilight Sparkle for no reason. I know you want her in the Magisterium. Do you think that, should you somehow prevail against your sister, that she can replace me when I die? Is that it?”

Celestia was staring again, but the aging unicorn didn’t back down. “Take your position, yes,” she admitted, quiet enough that he almost didn’t catch it, “but never replace you. None of you have ever been replaceable.” Her eyes softened. “Is that offensive? If speaking of your eventual succession offends, then…” She looked to the door.

Tempting as it was to let things lie there, Sol Shard said, “No, it is not. Nothing mundane lasts forever, myself least of all. Are you sure she would be a good fit?”

The laugh from the alicorn surprised even Sol Shard and it shown on his face. “Of course not,” Celestia chuckled. “She is, as you said, obsessive and extremely temperamental. And she once had a penchant for cruelty. But, she is loyal. And quite dogged, once she has a desire firmly in mind.”

“I heard that she dumped you on your rump when you were playing dress-up. I didn’t quite believe that one, though.” Sol Shard leaned over the table, caught between concern and curiosity. “Did she really suppress your magic?”

Celestia’s lips pinched, which was as close to squirming as she would allow. “Spoke with the hospital staff, did you?” She sighed. “Yes, it is true. If only for a moment and when I was being flippant.”

“But, still.”

“But, still.”

“Then you are right,” Sol Shard admitted after a moment of thought. “She needs to be trained. Are you pulling her out of that...education program at the fort?”

“I promised Cadance that I would not and it is Twilight Sparkle’s goal in life to become a Royal Guard.”

The greying unicorn let out a scoffing laugh of his own. “Is it? One of the most powerful unicorns of our generation wants to guard empty rooms. Wonderful. What, then, would you have me do?”

Celestia’s horn lit. A scroll that had been sitting on the dresser flew over to the table and unwound itself across the surface for Sol Shard to read. He recognized it - it was one of the dozens of investigation requests the Magisterium received every week from ponies across Equestria who claimed to be cursed or that some monster was threatening their backwater hamlet. To him, this scroll read just like all the others - a few missing ponies from Las Pegasus and a frantic report from a city guard that they had seen something in a dark alleyway.

It was easily the kind of report Sol Shard would either throw at the Royal Investigators or at some of his junior mages who were feeling too claustrophobic inside the Magisterium’s walls.

Still, he felt like he was being graded again with Celestia watching him so closely, so he read the scroll a second and third time. The more little details he picked out, the more he realized there might actually be some truth to it.

“A manticore or something terrorizing the city,” he guessed. “Perhaps a few changelings starting a new hive, even.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Either way, I wish for you to build a task force to investigate it within the week. You are free to requisition whatever manpower you need from the local military.” Celestia paused and one of her eyebrows ticked up in a significant fashion. “Up to and including Fort Dressage.”

Sol Shard tapped his chin, catching the line of thought. “And I would, of course, need the best and brightest to help. Perhaps a pony that could be taught a few simple spells and sent on a little adventure to get a taste of what life as a proper mage is like?”

The monarch’s wings ruffled as she got to her feet. “Whatever you deem necessary for your investigation,” Celestia said, voice only a tiny bit more melodic than normal. “Perhaps that enterprising young pony could be a good temporary assistant to the Arch Magus? Or maybe they can be taught how mundane the life of a guard actually is? I leave it up to you for the lesson.”

As the door to his tower room shut behind her, the unicorn felt both the lingering tension and courage drain out of him. He wondered if, a few decades ago, his own adventures had been planned out like this by Celestia and how much of his life was, or still was, just a set piece in some play to maneuver him.

And now he was doing the same thing to someone else.

“I might be closer to the curtain now,” Sol Shard muttered, grabbing a quill and some official letterhead, “but I’m still standing on the stage.”

He only hopped Celestia still knew how to write a convincing happy ending.

Author's Note

I've never given an original character this much time in one of my stories before. You might recognize the name from a few of my other fics, but he's always different. Here, though, he's going to be something of a regular for a bit. I'm actually sort of nervous about making something completely original like him.

Also, Celestia is fun to write as always.

Chapter 11

“...and that is how the Great and Powerful Trixie defeated the Black Beast of Caerbannog. Of course, it was much more difficult than simply casting a few spells! The Clever and Resourceful Trixie had to first find the monster, and let Trixie tell you, that was not the easiest thing in Equestria!”

Originally, Twilight had thought the magister’s attitude was funny, maybe even cute. She spoke in third person! Who did that? And she was serious about it; she hadn’t slipped yet, not once. It was like sharing the road with a sidewalk performer from Canterlot, the ponies who either had flashy magic or quick tongues to get tourist attention - and Trixie certainly had both.

“Are you listening to Trixie? Trixie is trying to help you!”

Should have taken a dive, Twilight thought. “I’m listening, ma’am. You investigated the cave the beast was named after because of a hunch and discovered it was a mother. That’s why it’d been attacking Neighagra. So you just tracked its eating habits and it took you straight to its hunting grounds.”

Trixie actually went quiet for a second. “...you’ve heard of Trixie’s adventures?”

“You told this story a few hours ago, right after the one about how you fought kelpies down by Hollow Shades.”

“R-Really? Ah, then… it was just a test! A test to see if you are paying attention, which is important for a magister!” Trixie exclaimed, tossing her hair. Twilight hadn’t been a saint growing up, but even she wouldn’t have been so transparent.

“Did I pass?” Twilight sarcastically asked.

She got a petulant look from the other unicorn. “A heckler at every show,” Trixie muttered, but at least it cut her story short.

Twilight wondered if this was going to be a vertical slice of the whole mission. The first day on the train had been, after the shock of being back inside something that wasn’t a campaign tent had worn off, pretty boring. Trixie had disappeared into first-class while Twilight had to fight for a seat in coach. Apparently Fort Dressage was a popular destination between Canterlot and Las Pegasus because Twilight was squeezed between two old stallions in floral shirts, talking over her head about which casinos they were going to hit first. When that got old, they started trying to make conversation, talking about a nephew or a niece that had joined the guard and if Twilight knew them, without telling her what base, what class, or even what year they’d been in.

Three hours of that, though, was better than what came next when the train had lurched to a stop in the middle of a canyon after someone had pulled the emergency cord in another car. Twilight had to endure the grumbling and angry looks when Trixie had burst into her car, telling Twilight to fetch their bags and that they were departing the train. In the middle of the desert. In a canyon. A canyon that was the perfect home for a bunch of slithering, slimy, poisonous sna-

“Don’t think about them,” Twilight ordered herself. “If you think about them they’ll show up.”

Trixie glanced back. “What are you grumbling about? Trixie thought you guard types loved the outdoors and a little exercise.”

Twilight snorted. “You have six traveling trunks. If I didn’t have magic this would be a death march, not an afternoon hike.” But even Twilight’s strength was being put to the test right now. It felt like Trixie carried around steel bars in these things!

Annoyingly, the azure unicorn smirked back at her. “Trixie can carry her own things, if it’s too much of a burden. Trixie is feeling much better after a nap on the train. Not tired and hungry like during our little… exhibition.”

Giving Trixie back her bags right now would be perfect. The look on her face when Twilight called her bluff! But. But. Twilight really didn’t want to lose to this… civilian.

“No,” Twilight grumbled, “I’ve got it.”

“Good! Now, let Trixie concentrate. She might be a little turned around.”

“You don’t know where we are?!”

Trixie flinched as Twilight’s shout echoed off the high canyon walls. “Trixie did not say that! She is just… getting her bearings! Understanding the lay of the land! Monster hunting skills that a trainee like you wouldn’t recognize.”

“I know what lost looks like, ma’am.” Twilight looked around at the high walls of the slot canyons around them. “Do you want me to get to the top of one of these walls and look for anything? Like maybe the train tracks, so we can sit there and wait for the next one?”

“For someone who wanted to come along on this mission so much that she nearly started crying back at that fort, you sure do complain a lot.”

Twilight sputtered. “I was not…!They were going to…” That smug grin was back on Trixie’s face. “You lost! Of course you should have taken me!”

Up went Trixie’s nose. “The Merciful and Humble Trixie did not ‘lose’. She allowed you to win, after seeing how much trouble you would get into for wrestling like some Earth pony instead of fighting like a proper unicorn!”

“First off, I think that was probably racist,” Twilight deadpanned. “Secondly, I do not fight like some kind of Earth pony! I used a valid spell suppression and takedown technique they teach in the guard for arresting unicorns!”

Trixie waved Twilight off, which only made the lavender unicorn angrier. “We were having a duel, not a street brawl. Mages use spells in a duel. That is one of the first things we learn at Celestia’s school.”

That anger completely boiled over at that. Twilight groaned and threw up her hooves. “Why does everyone care so much about that stupid school?!”

The surprised unicorn backed up a few steps before catching herself. “It is not a ‘stupid school’!" Trixie shouted back. "It is the most prestigious learning environment in the entire country!”

Twilight jabbed her hoof into Trixie’s chest. “Oh yeah? If it’s so prestigious then why did some unicorn that went through the regular Canterlot public school system kick your flank a few hours ago!”

It was impossible to tell what made Trixie angrier - that Twilight had said she’d lost again or that Twilight had only gone to public school - but the unicorn’s face turned fire-engine red.

“I… Trixie… you…” She couldn’t even get the words out. Twilight wanted her to do something. This pony had dragged her out to Celestia-knows-where, out of training, on what was supposed to be a monster hunt! Now they were lost and another train wouldn’t be by for at least a day!

Just when Twilight thought Trixie was going to well and truly explode, the magister took a deep breath. Then another. Then she might have started counting because Twilight could see her lips moving.

“You are trying to get under Trixie’s skin,” she said, eyes still closed, voice still measured. The whole ritual seemed very much like something she’d practiced many, many times. “It won’t work. Trixie does not get baited by the hired help.”

Before Twilight could react to that, Trixie’s horn was already firing. In a flash of magenta, she was gone! As annoyed as Twilight was, she was still floored by the casual use of spells she’d only seen in movies or read about in magical history books!

Another pop! and Trixie reappeared at the top of the canyon.

Trixie glared at Twilight from over the edge. “Trixie shall have a look around,” she called down. “If the ‘Great and Powerful’ Twilight Sparkle can lower herself to guard our luggage for a few moments, perhaps Trixie can find a place to camp.”

“Yeah, well, I could climb up there if I wanted to,” Twilight muttered. It didn’t matter; Trixie had already walked away and all the venom Twilight had been ready to spit left with her.

Another great first impression, Twilight thought, sitting down with a heavy thump. She felt exhausted, and not from carrying the luggage. Trixie was an annoying travel companion. A complete narcissist. 100% one of those ponies who only looked out for herself.

And… she was completely right. “I am the hired help. I’m supposed to be working with her. She might even outrank me.” Twilight still wasn’t sure about where the Magisterium fell within Equestria’s military structure, but it clearly had enough pull that it could interrupt basic training and pull a trainee. And here Twilight was, getting into arguments with a magister!

If only she hadn’t mentioned that stupid school. Or be so good at magic. Twilight didn’t want to admit it, even to herself, but it wasn’t really Trixie’s personality she had a problem with - it was the unicorn’s life. Not that Trixie had told her anything about it, but Twilight could imagine: a little, tiny Trixie acing the dragon egg test, being told she was the best thing the school had ever seen, and then whisked into a world Twilight had dreamed of getting into.

An image of Feldspar came to mind, and not for the first time since Twilight had turned him down. He’d been blowing smoke, of course, saying that she could be the next High Magister, but even just being a regular mage… wouldn’t that have been like being in the Princess’s school? Just a little bit?

But it wouldn’t get me any closer to her. That’s what I want. That’s what I’ve always wanted ever since I saw my first Summer Sun Celebration. But what would being a Royal Guard really do for her? Did she think that Celestia would take her into her confidence? Be friends? A princess, be friends with the hired help?

Twilight couldn’t even be friends with Trixie, or Lightning Dust, or any of the other ponies she was training with. Bay Orchid wasn’t a friend, not really. They knew what their partnership was for. Was that friendship? Just enough exchanges, built up over time, to the point where a mutual partnership became a friendship?

Shining Armor didn’t have this problem. Twilight knew that for a fact. Her brother was a social butterfly and could get ponies laughing or crying or whatever he wanted them to do. They just wanted to follow him.

But Twilight Sparkle wasn’t Shining Armor, no matter what the cadre back at the base thought.

I can at least be a better guard, Twilight thought. Twilight might not have been able to be her brother, but she could be herself - that pony didn’t fail. That pony couldn’t fail, or she’d never get what she wanted out of life. That pony was a perfectionist, who micromanaged every detail until it was just so.

And that meant she was going to stop moping. Twilight got back on her hooves and started making a makeshift perimeter with the boxes. They were out here hunting monsters, weren’t they?

Twilight could almost hear her old ROTC commander barking at her. And what if some manticore had just swooped down and eaten you while you were sitting there feeling sorry for yourself? Get it together, Trainee!

In no time flat, Twilight had a ring of rocks in the middle of the canyon, surrounding herself and Trixie’s luggage. It even had a little stone lean-to that she could take cover under, just in case that imaginary manticore did decide to show up. It was a neat little fort if Twilight did say so herself.

“You’ve been busy.”

Twilight jumped, which made Trixie’s laughter even more embarrassing. There wasn’t any way she could explain away yelping like a filly, so she just bit her tongue and tried to look angry.

Trixie ignored her and did a lap around the little position Twilight had built. “Expecting company?” she asked, not commenting on the fort way or another, nor did she bring up the argument they’d had before she’d left.

“You’re not?” Twilight countered, relieved to ignore it as well.“We’re out here to hunt monsters, right?”

“Trixie never said we came out here to do that. We’re out here so that we can meet up with the rest of the team.” Her horn lit and she levitated over one of her traveling trunks. Twilight heard the locking mechanism in it twist and turn, until it finally popped open. Things spilled out at once - an extra set of black magister robes, some ancient-looking books, a…

A wizard hat?

It looked like a toy, with its crude little yellow stars stitched against the blue background. Twilight went to pick it up with her magic, but Trixie quickly shoved it back into the trunk. “It’s rude to touch someone’s things without their permission!” Trixie snapped.

Twilight had a response chambered and ready, but she bit down on her tongue. Trying a different approach, she reminded herself. “Sorry.”

It was a bit gratifying to see Trixie stare at her like she’d grown a second head. The other unicorn chewed on the world for a few moments, just to see if there was anything negative in the simple apology. “Well,” she finally muttered, “apology accepted.”

A few more seconds of digging drew a happy little whinny from the magister and the awkward moment was forgotten. “Finally! Trixie’s conference crystal!”

Twilight trotted up to the trunk and peered over Trixie’s shoulder. In her telekinetic grip was a little silver crystal, no bigger than Twilight’s hoof. Trixie puffed herself up and floated it over right in front of Twilight’s snout. She seemed incredibly proud of the little thing.

“Well? What do you think?” The moment stretched on an uncomfortably long moment as Trixie waited for some kind of reaction, but Twilight had zero idea what was so special about the little bauble.

She didn’t want to look like a foal, though. “It’s, ah… very impressive?”

Trixie blinked at her. Then, finally, it set in. “Of course you wouldn’t know. You’re not a trained mage.” She rolled her eyes and whisked the crystal back. “There are only a few dozen sets of these in Equestria, Trixie will have you know. They are relics of the fabled Crystal Empire that she’s been entrusted with!”

And Twilight had no idea what that was either, but she made a surprised face like she did. There was no way she’d give Trixie more of a reason to look down on her. “The Crystal Empire?”

“Of course. Trixie is a very important pony!” Trixie was practically glowing with pride. “Now, help Trixie set this up. We need a flat surface.”

Twilight looked over to her stone fort. She picked up one of the larger rocks with her telekinesis and flipped it around until its smoothest surface was right-side up. “Will this do?” she asked.

“...damn Amazon pony…” *ahem* “Yes, yes, Trixie supposes that will do. Just… just put it down somewhere.”

Twilight tried to not enjoy the way Trixie jumped when the massive stone plummeted back down to the ground.

Trixie whisked away the dust and dirt with a few swipes of her magic. When she was finally satisfied, she put the little crystal down in the center of the rock and jumped back.

Just when Twilight was going to ask if she needed to do anything, Trixie lowered her horn and blasted a stream of magic at the crystal. Twilight was the one that jumped back this time as magical sparks flew every which way. She was sure the whole process was very magical, but when the canyon suddenly darkened like the sun had just been extinguished Twilight decided to just stand behind Trixie and ride out the storm.

In the light provided by Trixie’s spell, Twilight watched the crystal lift off the stone and hover in the air. Her ears flicked; there was something in the air that she could almost hear, like a ringing, as the thing began to spin wildly. Trixie’s magic tapered off a moment later, but the crystal was now emitting enough light that Twilight could easily see it.

“It’s pretty impressive, right?” Trixie huffed. She wobbled on her feet and Twilight braced her without even thinking about it. Trixie looked shocked, but she didn’t pull away as the crystal began generating its own magical field.

And then suddenly a web of magic snaked out of the spinning crystal, spanning an area about as wide as the stone it had been sitting on. The web looped back into itself on the corners, creating a… well, a window if Twilight had to guess. Suspended in the air.

Twilight didn’t even need to answer Trixie’s question - it was plainly written on her face. She had never seen this kind of magic. Never even heard of it! Portals!

A face appeared in the crackling energy and Trixie quickly bowed. She shot Twilight a significant, furious look and she hurriedly dipped her head as well.

“Magister Lunamoon. You’re late.”

The static noise Twilight had been hearing suddenly sharpened into a voice, clear as a bell. Clear - but thunderous. It shook Twilight down to her hooves.

Trixie was shaking. Twilight could see the unicorn’s hooves shivering at the corner of her vision. “M-Master. Trixie wasn’t…. Trixie… I mean no one told me that you would be…”

The unicorn in the portal raised a hoof and cut Trixie off before she could stammer herself to death. “You were not told because you did not need to know.” His eyes, ancient, almost grey with age, slid over to Twilight.

And then Twilight knew exactly how Trixie felt.

This pony, Sol Shard, was something ancient. Powerful. Twilight knew she was imagining it, but she could almost feel the weight of his magic pressing down on her, as if his attention were a physical thing. As if something Old had just noticed she existed and was now considering - considering what Twilight didn’t know, but she felt her knees lock.

“Good. You chose this one.”

“My… my master told me to watch for a purple unicorn at the fort, and to test her. Should I have… not tested others?” Trixie sounded fairly terrified and as curious as Twilight was about the conversation, she knew not to interrupt. In fact she wanted to get as small as possible… because Twilight knew this pony. She had recognized him the second his face had appeared in the portal, and she knew why Trixie was so cowed.

Sol Shard, High Magister of the Grand Spire. Breaker of the End Titan, Gigax. Master of the Deep Mysteries. There were hundreds of epithets attached to the stallion now taking the measure of her and any one of them was worthy of tales that would last generations, but put together and he was easily the most powerful unicorn since Star Swirl the Bearded!

And he was right there.

The ancient magister shook his head. “If she could not overcome a simple test from the newest magister in our order, then she is not needed. I am pleased.”

Trixie’s head snapped up with a wide grin, but then she remembered herself and quickly looked back down at the ground. “T-Thank you, sir.”

“Indeed. I will inform your Master Sunburst of my pleasure as well.”

His attention cut back to Twilight. She got a distinct feeling that she was being evaluated and it was a long moment before he spoke again. “So. You are the pony who defeated my suppression rings.”

Trixie let out a strangled gurgle. “The seven rings at Canterlot?” she hissed. Numbly, Twilight nodded. Sol Shard had made those rings?

The stallion hummed. “Well, I created the design,” he amended, maybe smiling when Twilight looked up at him. “It was a very impressive feat, and it puts you in incredible company. I understand you were given an offer to join the Magisterium, that you declined, afterward?”

Twilight stammered for a moment and Trixie’s eyes turned apocalyptic. “Well, I mean, I didn’t join to become a mage. Sir. Master.”

“Just ‘Sir’ is fine. You are not, after all, one of my mages.”

“Am I… in trouble?”

There was a distinct pause from the High Magister, one that lasted long enough that even Trixie snuck a few glances upwards at him. He seemed to be considering the question in full, which was nice of him, but it did nothing to ease the growing terror in Twilight’s chest.

“Certain parties were disappointed you turned down the invitation. Many on the High Council are not used to such an offer being spurred. Magister Feldspar has many associates on the council who hold him in the highest regard.” His eyes narrowed only a fraction, but Twilight felt the breath go out of her. “Myself included. The way you declined was not becoming of a guard, or a unicorn. Magister Feldspar is a dear friend and deserved better than such embarrassment..”

“But… but the things he said about the Guard, and Princess Celestia…!” Some of the old fire came back. Feldspar had said some awful things about the Royal Guard! And the nobility! He said-”

“-that your talents would be wasted guarding empty rooms, selfish nobles, and that Princess Celestia would never need the protection of a simple guard?” Even though his face didn’t change, there was an aura of exasperation from the ancient magister. “I managed to get the entire conversation out of him, and it is a typical argument from any magister that regularly works with the Princess. She does, from time to time, confide in some of us.”

Twilight’s world went cold. “The Princess knows Feldspar? They talk?”

“They know each other quite well. In fact, you could say that Magister Feldspar and Celestia are thick as thieves. I know that you have come up in conversation. Celestia has even asked me about you, in the context of the designs of my suppression rings.”

The would-be guard fell back on her rump. Feldspar, the unicorn Twilight had tossed out of her hospital room after calling a coward, was a good personal friend of Princess Celestia’s. He had discussed things with the princess.

Twilight started to wheeze. Her chest felt like it was in a vice, but Twilight didn’t have the brainpower to devote to concern. Someone was patting her on the back, or maybe slapping her, but the world felt like a big cotton ball to Twilight. She stumbled and fell over, still fighting to get air, but the tremendous ringing in her ears was breaking all concentration.

She needed air. To her oxygen-starved brain, it made sense to just take it. Her horn lit and summoned “air” - as much air as it could, until stones and sand began whipping through the canyon.

Trixie dove for cover as one of her trunks was blown clear off the ground. “Twilight!” she screamed. “Trixie commands you stop this insanity!” She tried to fight it back, but could only clear a small channel that she could stand in and that wouldn’t stop something big from being hurled right into her.

A wisp of orange magic snaked down from the sky. In the portal, Trixie could see Sol Shard’s own horn light, but he was hundreds of miles away. Surely he couldn’t...

“That’s quite enough.”

The force of the command came in the form of a suppression spell that instantly collapsed Twilight to the ground. Everything, every mote of dirt or flying stone, dropped to the ground like something had just cut all the puppeteer's strings.

His control was so great that Trixie’s shield was still working. She could feel the massive Working in the canyon, but it had spared her and the portal both without so much as an interference flicker! That kind of control shouldn’t, couldn't, be possible!

But Sol Shard, High Magister of Equestria, lived the impossible. He let out a sigh and shook his head. “Moody, lacking control, quick to anger, quicker to jump to conclusions… for this pony to have such power…” His eyes were focused on Twilight, narrowing.

Trixie could guess what he was thinking. Ponies like Twilight appeared from time to time, although they were starting to appear with more frequency. Lones, criminals, murderers - just a host of powerful unicorns bent on destruction.

Aberrations, the Magisterium had begun calling them. Unicorns that refused to live quietly in society and used their powers for evil ends. Or just ones that couldn’t control themselves and lashed out at anything or anyone around them.

Twilight was a classic case of the latter. Sometimes the Magisterium could help them, but usually they’d already done something terrible. And some, the really powerful ones, could never be let back out into society - or worse.

Trixie licked her lips. She shouldn’t stick her snout into this anymore. Twilight was certainly a liability now that she had Sol Shard’s attention, and even Princess Celestia was keeping tabs on her. Better to just let the High Magister sort things at this point.

But Trixie’s curiosity doomed her. When she looked back up Sol Shard was staring straight at her, considering. “This Twilight Sparkle is a loose canon,” he said, conversationally, as if he hadn’t just broken all the rules of magic as Trixie understood them. As if they were peers instead of him being the second most powerful being on the planet and her being a fresh magister.

“Y-Yes? She certainly is... churlish.”

“And rebellious. And has an inflated opinion of her place in the world.”

Oh gods. “B-But she’s also a guard! And really, really wants to serve Equestria! And does what she’s told and has no flair for the dramatic and goes through other pony’s things and-”

He silenced her with a look. “And she reminds me of a pony that Sunburst brought to my attention a few years ago. A dropout from Celestia’s school, a runaway, a filly who wanted to be a traveling magician until she was found by my apprentice.”

Trixie knew where this was going. She hung her head. “You want me to train her, don’t you?”

And the old goat of a Magister looked at her and smiled. It was a horrible thing, with his nearly-blind eyes and wrinkled face. “Sunburst did tell me you were clever. I’ll expect to see some progress when you rejoin the coven in Las Pegasus.”

The magical window went black and the crystal fell to the sand. The sun came back in full, banishing the magical darkness needed for communication. The stone Trixie had originally wanted for the summoning was gone, blown away by the hurricane Twilight had unleashed. So were most of her travel trunks.

Trixie let out a scream of pure, annoyed rage.

Twilight snored in bliss.

Author's Note

Oh wow, another chapter in less than a month. This story absolutely writes itself.

Chapter 12

Twilight decided that today was the surrealist day of her life.

Across from her, studiously stirring a skillet-full of scrambled eggs, was the magister named Trixie Lulamoon. She had only said a distracted, “Morning” when Twilight had crawled from (her?) tent, lured out by both the desert sun just starting to peek through the slips in the canvas and the wonderful smell of a hot breakfast.

The silence wasn’t totally unwelcome. Twilight remembered most of the previous night, including her horrific breakdown. It’d been years since her last one and Twilight had almost come to think she was over wild, out of control lapses like that. The fact she’d had two witnesses to it made her cheeks burn scarlet. Adults weren’t supposed to lose control of their magic like that. Hell, teenagers weren’t supposed to lose control like that, either.

Whichever way 17-year-old Twilight sliced it, she was behind the curve.

It should have been prime material for a pony like Trixie. Twilight didn’t know the other unicorn very well, but she knew the type - full of herself, a braggart, the social queen bee. The type of pony that had once avoided Twilight like the plague, and never missed an opportunity for a few barbs. Twilight would have preferred the verbal sparring because it would let her push away the awkwardness of the morning, but Trixie wasn’t obliging.

She was just cooking, quietly, with a silly look of concentration on her face that would have probably made anyone other than Twilight giggle.

As if reading Twilight’s mind, the unicorn glanced up from the campfire. “What? Can’t a pony cook without being judged?”

“I didn’t say anything!”

The spatula leveled at Twilight. “But you were thinking it! Trixie has a sixth sense for when she’s being judged!” The cooking utensil came so close a speck of egg landed on Twilight’s snout. “Any more lip from you and you don’t get breakfast.”

Twilight mimed zipping her mouth shut and that mollified Trixie enough that she went back to cooking.

Maybe it was just a little bit funny to see Trixie being so domestic. Twilight certainly had the discipline to keep a neutral face, but she still distracted herself with fixing the coffee from the cooking supplies laying around. It worked out as Trixie was taking the eggs off the fire just as Twilight got the water ready.

“So,” Trixie started, “about last night.”

And there it was, right on cue. Twilight was surprised it took this long. “I just-” “-you’re very powerful.”

Twilight’s mouth snapped shut with a click. Trixie looked annoyed at the admission, but unlike Twilight she pushed through with the thought. “Very powerful. Powerful enough that Trixie understands why you are getting so much attention.”

“...thanks?” Twilight wondered if that was the right answer. She’d never gotten praise from anything close to a peer before.

Trixie rolled her eyes. “‘Thanks’, she says. You should be worried. Powerful, untrained ponies like you don’t get far in this country if you can’t control yourself.”

It took a second for Trixie’s tone to sink in. “Is that a threat?”

The unicorn looked back at Twilight like she was simple. “Of course it is. What do you think the Magisterium’s job is? Solve magical mysteries? Look dashing in robes? Hunt monsters?” Trixie scoffed. “Not all monsters are monsters, if you catch Trixie’s meaning. And now you have the attention of the High Magister himself. Trixie hopes you understand the implications there.”

“The Guard will teach me how to control my magic,” Twilight countered, breathlessly, because she certainly could understand those implications. Just like she could put two and two together to realize that the High Magister of Equestria had most likely been the pony to stop her anxiety attack. And he’d said Celestia had known Feldspar, and that both of them knew how much of a hothead she could be, and-

Twilight suddenly felt a sharp, painful jolt of electricity race through her flank. She yelped and nearly stumbled into the campfire as she flailed around. “What the hell, Trixie?!” Twilight screamed. She could see the unicorn’s horn glowing and crackling with yet another shock spell.

“Concentrate!” the magister barked. “Block Trixie’s spell!” Another bolt of electricity lanced out from Trixie’s horn at that exact moment. Twilight saw it coming and jumped out of the way; the bolt hit the metal grill of the cook fire and only quick telekinesis saved the precious coffee.

“Do that one more time and I’ll-” Twilight couldn’t even properly threaten the other unicorn before the spell came at her once again. She had no choice but to put the metal coffee pot between her and the bolt. The water instantly vaporized in a small steam explosion when the current hit it, but Twilight was ready to avenge her favorite drink. Her horn lit in furious orchid fire and she tried to grab at Trixie’s magic, to suppress it.

But her spell slipped right off Trixie. Twilight was so shocked that she didn’t move in time for the return bolt, which hit her square on the flank. The jolt was horrible and Twilight might have actually whinnied (so embarrassing!) as she fell back on her rump.

“Is that all? Where’s that fury and fire from the other night?” Trixie asked. “Come on! Fight Trixie!”

Hurting, embarrassed, and angry, Twilight grabbed the nearest thing to her, a massive stone larger than Trixie was tall, and hurled it at the unicorn. Twilight realized what she had done in a heartbeat, but it was too late; Trixie was too close!

Just as Twilight screamed out a warning, Trixie whipped her head. She didn’t try to block it with her shield as she had at Fort Dressage. Instead, a thin line of magic rippled out in her horn’s wake. The boulder was neatly bisected down the middle, splitting on either side of her like a magic trick.

In that moment, cape billowing by the air the boulder displaced, horn already crackling with another lightning spell, Twilight felt something she hadn’t felt in a very long time -

A tiny trill of fear.

But Twilight had been trained to master fear, or at least not show it. She clenched her jaw and got back to her feet.

Trixie smirked at her. “There’s that bravery.” Her horn glowed whiter again and Twilight readied herself. “Now, shield!”

“I don’t know how to make a shield!” Twilight yelled as she dove out of the way. She snatched up the grating from the fire and levitated it out between her and Trixie, knowing it wouldn’t do much. Trixie had cut a rock in half a second ago; a cast iron grate wasn’t going to do anything.

But Trixie wasn’t really trying to kill her. If anything, she seemed to be at a bit of a loss for words. After a moment, she finally asked, “You really can’t cast a shield, can you? It’s the simplest combat spell you can learn!”

Slowly, slowly, Twilight lowered her oh-so-threatening cooking grate. “I told you that I only knew two spells at the fort!” she snapped. “Did you think I was lying or something? I can levitate things and suppress magic!”

“Trixie thought you were just trying to hide your skills! What… but you have so much power! How can you not know anything?”

“I don’t know what that even means!”

“There is no reason to yell at Trixie!” Trixie yelled at Twilight.

“I’m not yelling!” Twilight yelled right back. Then, finally, some sense came back to her and she took a deep, deep, breath, just like the school counselor had taught her to all those years ago. She counted to ten, then to fifteen, and finally to twenty, before opening her eyes again. “Okay. So. Please explain why you were trying to electrocute me to death.”

Trixie rolled her eyes. “You are more dramatic than the Great and Powerful Trixie. If Trixie wanted to electrocute you, she would have used Static Shiv’s Arc Lance instead of just a weak Telsavolte’.”

“That tells me absolutely nothing, Trixie! Do you just go around shocking ponies for no good reason?”

The other mare stamped her foot. “Trixie has a good reason! She was told to train you, so that you would not embarrass all of us on this monster hunt! Trixie only has two days before we meet the main group on the outskirts of Las Pegasus, so Trixie is going with the fastest way she knows to teach.”

Her horn lit again and Twilight tensed, ready to jump, but instead of a lightning bolt or something else she just floated over something from one of her traveling trunks. “Give Trixie a flat surface,” she ordered, and Twilight grudgingly levitated up a nearby boulder with a flat side wider than Trixie was tall.

The magister looked it over and nodded. It would work. “Perhaps a neanderthal pony is good to have around after all,” Trixie said. The thing she had pulled from her trunk turned out to be a piece of red chalk which she used to draw a wide circle on the rock. It was as perfect a circle as Twilight had ever seen anyone draw free-horn before, drawn with the ease of years and years of practice. “You know what this is, don’t you?” Trixie asked as she continued drawing.

“A rune,” Twilight answered, slowly sliding closer. She was still wary of Trixie and her violent teaching methods, but this was real magic and she couldn’t resist. In fact, she added, “It’s the basis of all unicorn magic outside of natural magic like telekinesis or magic suppression. And magic associated with a cutie mark.”

The look Trixie gave her out the corner of her eye might have been somewhat impressed. “Well, at least Trixie doesn’t have to teach you everything.” A few final flourishes with the chalk and Trixie stepped back, pleased with her work, and turned to Twilight. “Maybe, then, you can tell Trixie which rune this is.”

Canterlot Public Schools hadn’t actually gone into runes beyond their basic purpose in spellcasting. Typically, unicorns didn’t actually learn runes for various spells, relying on telekinesis and whatever came instinctually with their cutie marks to get them through life. The few unicorns that actually did have a talent for magic, and who didn’t go to Celestia’s school, went to specialized universities to learn the runic alphabet, as well as how to put everything together in a magically-coherent fashion.

Twilight had never considered one of those colleges after joining ROTC, but as a filly, before her failed admission to Celestia’s school, she had studied the runic alphabet. She pointed to one of Trixie’s scribbles, ᛥ, that sat in the middle of the circle. “That one stands for stone, right? It’s like… a directing rune?” That sounded right. “It directs magical power into a form, or something.”

“Very good,” Trixie cooed, as if Twilight were a small foal. She pointed her piece of chalk at the larger circle around stone. “This is all called ‘magical layering’ and it’s the basis for all Equestrian spellcasting. You force your magic to be the thing you want it to be.” Trixie groaned when she saw Twilight scratch her head.

“Alright, imagine a spell is a wild animal, never seen before by another pony, and you have to describe it for the first time. What it looks like, how big it is, what color is its coat - things like that. Are you imagining it?”

“I’m imagining!” Twilight snapped. She didn’t like feeling dumb, but she didn’t see how this helped. “Can’t you just give me a book on magic? I’m good with books!”

Trixie threw up her front legs in exasperation. “Books. Trixie hates books! Trixie does not have the time to lay around and read! Trixie is a doer! Now imagine Trixie’s example and stop interrupting her with your ignorance! Ahem. As Trixie was saying, imagine that you are trying to describe how some animal looks to someone who has never heard or seen such a thing before. You have to describe the beast, define the edges of it until that pony understands what it is you are telling them.”

“...like you’re forcing a perspective? Like…” Twilight could almost see what Trixie was getting at. What the runes meant beyond being the basic building blocks of a spell. “...like the magic doesn’t want to naturally be a spell, but you have to… mold it into one? With the runes?”

Twilight had the thread now. She blinked at the rune Trixie had drawn and it clicked. “That’s it, isn’t it? Spells are unnatural. Natural magic, telekinesis, and cutie mark magic doesn’t need to be anything. It just is. This ‘magical layering’ thing is really just forcing that natural magic to do what you want, using the runes? So stone would mean… something hard. Something sturdy.” She looked at Trixie, smiling. “A shield. This is the spell for a shield!”

Trixie stared at Twilight’s smiling face, then looked back at her diagram. “It took Trixie a whole semester to learn that,” she muttered. “But, yes, that’s...more or less right. Good work?”

Twilight didn’t even register the sarcasm. This is what she had been missing all those years ago! An explanation! The books she’d consumed as a filly hadn’t explained how the runes interacted with spells and actual spell books were tightly regulated.

But this! This was so simple! Twilight hurriedly pointed to another rune in the circle. “What’s this one mean?! What does it affect in the shield? Can you add other runes, changing how the spell works? Your shield back at the fort had a lot of runes on it! Was it better than a regular shield? Can you-”

Trixie’s hoof slapped over Twilight’s mouth. “Dear Celestia, what has Trixie done?” she lamented. “This purple monster is going to be the death of Trixie!”

“Wavandr!” Twilight indignantly corrected. Trixie just rolled her eyes harder. “Fine! Lavender! Whatever.” She pulled back her hoof and wiped it off on the ground with a sour look. “The point is, Trixie thinks you have the gist of what she is saying. Try casting it.”

“Right. Because I can just magically cast something just because I’ve seen the rune,” Twilight deadpanned. “You haven’t taught me anything yet! How do I take that,” she pointed to the rune, “and turn it into something usable? You’re horrible at this!”

Trixie nodded along with Twilight, which the lavender unicorn thought was quite high-minded of her. That was, until her horn started to glow again with the crackle of electricity. “Trixie prefers the pressure cooker method!” she shouted, sending a lightning bolt at Twilight’s rump. The quick unicorn got out of the way, but Trixie already had another spell chambered and ready to let fly. “Think! Think about the runes and their configuration! Imagine it!”

“I’m not good at abstract thought!” Twilight snapped back, but cowering behind a rock as she was, she didn’t have much in the way of actual menace. “You can’t just tell me to ‘imagine the runes, Twilight!’ and then start zapping me! Who taught you how to teach other ponies?!”

“You should be pleased with Trixie’s methods! Trixie learned at a much slower pace!”

Twilight yelped when Trixie jumped right over the rock to get at her. Twilight tried to catch her in telekinesis, or with magical suppression, but again Twilight’s magic slid right off the other unicorn. Trixie had obviously cast some kind of protection on herself and Twilight couldn’t hope to figure out what it was or how to get around it, especially not with the unicorn shooting lightning at her!

Her only hope for this rump-roasting torment to end was the shield spell, even though Twilight knew she probably could just ask Trixie to stop and the other unicorn would probably cut it out. Out of all the little holdovers from her fillyhood, Twilight’s stubbornness had never quite gone away. Because of that, she was notgoing to lose to a pony who unironically only spoke in the third person!

So, Twilight clenched her jaw and counter-charged at Trixie. The lightning aimed at her flank instead hit her barrel, but Twilight pushed past the sharp snip of pain it caused and bowled the unicorn over. Trixie shrieked and toppled, not being that athletic, and Twilight got her chance - a few precious moments to study the diagram Trixie had drawn.

Twilight knew that the runes themselves had magic - they were conduits for unicorn magic, not the source - but they played an important part in making spells work. Just knowing what a rune meant, though, wasn’t the key. If it was, Twilight would have been casting spells as a filly with just a few introductory magic books as her guide.

No, the runes weren’t a source, but they were the framework of a spell. Twilight had guessed that much and Trixie had confirmed it. The magister had told her to ‘imagine’ them, too, but Twilight had no idea what that meant. Imagine the runes? Twilight closed her eyes and an exact replica of the runic circle appeared in her mind. She imagined casting the spell, she imagined it succeeding, she imagined -

“Ouch!”

Trixie’s laugh brayed throughout the campground. “And once again the Great and Powerful Trixie toasts the Slow and Unimaginative Twilight! It is now three points in Trixie’s favor to your zero! What shall your next move be?”

Twilight’s response was to levitate the breakfast Trixie had been cooking, skillet and all, in front of her. Any lightning would probably hit it and it would meet the same fate as the pot of coffee.

“You wouldn’t,” Trixie growled. “You’re hungry too.”

Twilight stood her ground. “I’ve gone three days without eating as part of my guard training.” Her eyes narrowed. “Try me.”

Trixie considered. Twilight could see the gears turning behind the magister’s eyes as she tallied the pros and cons. “A truce until I finish eating,” she finally said, horn slowly losing its glow.

“Truce until you finish eating,” Twilight enjoined, and handed over the skillet.

Twilight had to admit, sore rump and all, that this was a fun little game. And Trixie seemed to actually be hungry because she was rooting around the scattered and trampled campsite for a good place to sit with her scrambled egg bribe.

This was the opportunity. Twilight eagerly went back to the drawn runic circle, looking and memorizing. She was sure now that she only recognized the stone rune in the center, but the other shapes were simple and easy to pick up. There were only three runes in all on the whole thing, linked with flowing lines between them. They were precisely arranged in the circle, one unknown run on either side of stone.

“You’re overthinking it,” Trixie called out. Twilight turned enough to glance at her out the corner of her eye, full attention still on the diagram.

“How can I be overthinking it? I’ve never even thought about it at all until today!”

Trixie shrugged, stuffing another fork full of eggs into her mouth. “Trixie doesn’t know,” she responded between bites. “You just seem like the type of pony to overthink things.” She smiled around her fork. “Do you want a hint?”

Yes. Very badly. Twilight almost voiced that as well, but the sheer smugness of Trixie made her keep it firmly behind her teeth. She really, really didn’t want to lose any more face around this unicorn. It was stupid - Trixie was a trained Magister; had spent years at it, according to her - but still. Trixie looked to be the same age as her but she was so damn good at magic!

Twilight wanted to learn this spell more than anything - except not having to ask Trixie for any more help. So, she just firmly shook her head and went back to the rune, Trixie’s giggling ringing out behind her.

There was a trick to it. Overthinking things. How could she be overthinking it? She needed to figure out what the other two runes were, didn’t she? And then… imagine them?

Twilight let her eyes close again, this time moderately sure Trixie wouldn’t zap her. Imagine doing the spell. Imagine it working. Imagine you have a shield. Imagine it blocks Trixie’s spell. Guide the magic into the form you want - it doesn’t naturally want to be a spell.

Imagine it… like you’re trying to describe the spell to a blind pony, Twilight thought. Trixie had originally explained it like that, hadn’t she? Define the spell until it becomes clear. Define it with the runes.

Her horn lit. Wrong. That was wrong. That was just regular magic waiting to grab or suppress something. It wasn’t magic-magic. She saw the runic circle in her mind. Not just the runes on it, but the entire circle and the way Trixie had deliberately drawn the runes and the lines between them; the precise way she’d drawn the circle itself.

“Oh Twilight~ Trixie is finished with her breakfast~”

A circle. A path. “... a flow.”

Her eyes snapped open just as Trixie’s surprise attack came at her. Twilight’s horn lit again, but this time she could feel it was right. The flow of the runes, circle and all. Forcing the magic into purpose, like taming a river.

Magic sprang up around Twilight. A wispy, thin, bubble-like sheen of transparent orchid magic. Trixie’s electricity spell slammed into it, making the whole thing ripple and quake, but it held.

Trixie stared at Twilight; Twilight stared at Trixie.

“That’s-” “I-”

Twilight reached a shaky hoof up to the bubble. It felt like a thin piece of plastic. Elastic, but also too firm to push through. When Twilight did press hard, it just deformed around her hoof and bounced back as soon as she let the pressure off.

It was, without a doubt, a magical shield. Belatedly, Twilight realized her horn was still glowing. Yep. Her magical shield. She let the image of the rune circle go from her mind and it faded back into the nothingness it had been spawned from.

Twilight collapsed. She couldn’t believe it. “I cast a spell?” she asked, looking up at a wary Trixie. She suddenly hopped up to her feet, scaring the sarcasm right out of the pony. “I cast a spell! I can cast a spell! A real spell!”

Trixie shivered when Twilight galloped over to her and grabbed her by the shoulders. “More!” she demanded, eyes hungry. “More!”

I really did create a monster, Trixie realized. She’d gone and lit a fire in the unicorn and it was… unnerving, how quick she picked up spell casting. Sol Shard had told Trixie to train Twilight, but did the stallion know how fast she could pick magic up?

Calm down. Just two more days and you can pass her off to the main team. Just two days and she’s some other pony’s problem.

Trixie wondered if she would last that long.

Author's Note

Just a nice little chapter explaining a bit of how I write magic in Equestria.

It's actually pretty hard to assign a system to the way unicorns do magic in the show. Some episodes show that you can clearly learn spells in books, but others imply it's all the Power of Imagination™. So, I tried my best to cobble the two points together. Let me know if it makes any sense.

Chapter 13

“I’m telling you, I’m on a roll! A hot streak! These casinos are gonna kick me out before too long!”

Smokey Road nodded, indulging his friend. Out of the casino, the lights of the Landing Strip were almost blinding, even at one in the morning. Smokey rubbed his eyes (too many damn ciders) and nodded at his friend. “Sure thing, Roy. They’ll kick you out for winning that final hand. How much did you get them for? 300 bits?”

“350!” Roy corrected, only swaying slightly. A few passing ponies gave him a look, but they were smiling. This was Las Pegasus, after all - the town for letting loose. Roy hadn’t even begun to really drink yet, and Smokey knew they would hit another few casinos before the night was up.

He’d been hoping to pick up a mare for the night, but another night out with his best friend wouldn’t kill him. They had a whole week still to burn, after all. “Sorry Roy, 350. And how much did you lose before that?”

Roy laughed. “Jus 500! I’ll get 'em next time!”

“Sure, Roy. What casino do you want to hit next? Rodeo Rodeo? The Clopicana?”

The other stallion wildly shook his head. “No way! Gotta be Planet Applewood! We can still make the dancing show! Awooooo!”

Smokey shook his head as Roy broke out into a drunken gallop, but the mood was infectious and he stormed after him, even getting in a few howls of his own. Those dancers at the Palace were to die for!

The stallion had just about caught up when Roy took a hard left turn into an alleyway. “The hell are you going?” Smokey shouted.

“Shortcut!” Roy bellowed. “Follow the music, man! The music!”

Music? Smokey strained hard, but all he could hear was the normal background lul of Las Pegasus at night - namely a lot of laughing, talking, and the rolling thunder of the clouds surrounding the city. No distinct music, though. “I don’t hear anything!”

Roy just shook his head and galloped harder, taking turns and twists like a racehorse. Roy was a small pegasus and Smokey had to push his earth pony legs to even keep his friend in sight. He didn’t know where the pegasus was getting the energy to run like that after all the booze he’d had tonight, but Smokey was just a little jealous.

He lost sight of his laughing friend as he skidded around another corner at the end of the alleyway. There was a loud crash of trash cans and a pained shout from Roy. “That’s what you get for going that fast,” Smokey said, skidding to a halt himself. He didn’t want to make the same mistake.

Still chuckling, Smokey turned the corner. “Those dancers aren’t going to want any part of you if you smell like garbage, man,” he said, expecting to see Roy flat on his face in a pile of trash. “Good thing pegasus..es… bounce?”

Smokey looked around. There weren’t any overturned trash cans, but somehow a whole dumpster had gotten thrown across the alley. Smokey could see on one of the walls where it’d dug straight into the stone and bounced off, making a huge dent. “Damn, Roy. What the hell did you do?” Smokey wondered.

More than that, where was the pegasus? He couldn’t have walked away from a hit like that.

The alley wasn’t narrow, being as wide as a regular street, but there wasn’t anywhere for the pegasus to hide. It was clear except for the dumpster… but did the dumpster just move?

“Ugh…”

Of course. “Did you flip over the damn thing? Your head must be ringing like a bell.” No reply, just another groan, and some scratching. “I swear to Celestia if you’ve broken something and we have to go to the hospital you owe me all the drinks I want tomorrow night,” Smokey warned.

As he got closer to the dumpster, Smokey finally started to hear the faint sound of cabaret music. They had to be pretty close to Planet Applewood now. “Just gotta scrape you up off the alley and we can still catch the show. Mares love seeing bruises.”

Something crunched under his hoof. Startled, Smokey looked down, but there was nothing there but cobblestone.

Crunch. Crunch. Crack. It had no rhyme or reason, not in time at all with Smokey’s gait. He hadn’t stepped on anything. Cruch. Crunch. Crack.

It was coming from behind the dumpster.

The music was louder now. So loud that Smokey shook his head, trying to make his ears behave, but he couldn’t stop walking. He had to keep walking. Toward the dumpster. Around the other side.

A face appeared in front of him. Not a pony. Not anything he’d ever seen before. It was a pale face, featureless and leathery, except for a too-wide mouth and two black pits where eyes should be. Dozens upon dozens of teeth filled his field of view - not sharp. They were flat like horse teeth. Grinding teeth. Crunching teeth.

But Smokey didn’t run. He couldn’t run. Not even when he felt something warm and sticky wash across his hooves. Not when he saw the split body of Roy, splayed out across the alley in red, meaty chunks. Not when another of those white heads appeared, this one higher than the second-story windows of the buildings lining the alley looked down at him, lips stained red, mouth chewing.

Smokey blinked. He looked around. “This was the worst shortcut ever,” he muttered, wondering how he’d gotten so lost. Luckily he could still hear the Planet Applewood cabaret music, so he knew he had to be close.

“Last time I ever go stag at Los Pegasus,” he declared, still warm and fuzzy from a night of drinking, but ready to keep his vacation going!

He only stumbled a bit over a half-clovered sewer lid on his way out of the alley and out to another early morning of fun on the Strip.

Defense in Depth: Chapter 13

Twilight Sparkle was a hunter.

Her prey was crafty, the craftiest even, and had yet to be taken by surprise. A surly prey, possessing a nasty disposition and a sharp tongue.

A prey worth hunting.

The crags and canyons of the San Palmeno Desert provided excellent cover for Twilight’s approach. She ignored the discomfort of the rocks as she silently crawled toward the oblivious pony in front of her. Twilight had taken the last thirty minutes, half of her precious lunchtime, to conduct this daring raid on the enemy position. She had looped wide and far in the canyons to hoodwink the pony in front of her, but now it was all worth it. Now the tallies would be evened and the sweet, sweet taste of revenge would be hers. All she had to do was-

Twilight almost missed the flicker. It was so very subtle, the illusion so very perfect, that unless the sun had been sitting just so she probably wouldn’t have seen it. And it could only mean one thing…

“Trixie! I said no illusions!” Twilight shouted. Her shield went up not a moment too soon because the magister was already on the attack! Trixie leaped down from the rocky outcropping where she'd set her own ambush, firing arcs of lighting as she slid down the embankment. Twilight’s shield flickered when two bolts at once hit and it nearly broke her concentration completely, but she clenched her teeth and forced more magic into the orchid bubble protecting her.

But now Twilight had a real target to shoot at and from experience she knew her bolts could pack more of a punch than Trixie’s. But, also from experience, Trixie knew something herself - she knew Twilight’s major weakness.

When Trixie hit the canyon floor she broke into a run to put some good distance between them. If Twilight wanted to try and shoot, she would have to do it at range.

“The Blind and Myopic Twilight Sparkle could not hit Trixie even if she painted a bright red bullseye on her beautiful flank!” the mare taunted, and Twilight felt her face burn. She could still feel the embarrassment from the first time they’d done long-range practice and Trixie had found out just how nearsighted Twilight was. All Trixie’s teasing nearly made Twilight want to dig out the bottle glasses she’d been issued at medical all those weeks ago, but that would only give the azure unicorn more ammunition.

But... Twilight didn’t need to shoot from this far. She dipped her head and charged, thundering across the dusty bottom of the cavern like a mare possessed. She was faster and more athletic than Trixie, although the magister wasn’t exactly a slouch. Trixie had a good stride and managed to keep some distance between them, sending the occasional bolt of lighting over her shoulder to keep Twilight somewhat at bay. The bolts skittered across Twilight’s shield. It held against the first few shots, but Twilight knew from experience it wouldn’t last long against Trixie’s precision aim.

“You’ve gotta be faster than that!” Twilight called out, hoping to get the unicorn to panic and miss a few shots. Trixie might have had the stamina of an athlete, but she didn’t have the speed of a unicorn who had been measuring herself against earth ponies and pegasi for the last six years. Trixie kept shooting, and she was scoring some hits on Twilight’s shield, but the gap was narrowing at a good clip as Twilight inexorably gained on her.

Close enough! Now was the tricky part. She closed her eyes, trusting her natural sense of direction for a few seconds, so she could visualize the Teslavolte’ rune circle. Another bolt from Trixie almost broke Twilight’s concentration, but she had it now. When she opened her eyes, the magic from her shield was already flowing into a powerful bolt.

Trixie tripped when it slammed into her shield, but managed to stay upright and hold her shield. Twilight jumped out the way of her first bolt and narrowly ducked the second. Unlike Trixie, Twilight had no idea how to hold two spells in her mind at once, so she only had her (admittedly excellent) physical skills for defense while she channeled the shock spell.

Now she was within a few paces - leaping range! Trixie knew it was coming and shifted all her power and attention to her shield, which blazed a bright magenta; Twilight could even see the runic circle itself emblazoned on the magic bubble. The runes shimmered when Twilight’s magic first brushed against them, then glowed too bright to look at as the full power of the spell hit flush and in full.

The force of Trixie’s shield almost put Twilight on her rump, but she dug her hooves in and braced her body. Twilight poured every speck and scrap of magic into the simple spell, knowing that it was extremely wasteful and not caring.

But Trixie was a magister. Twilight knew the unicorn’s raw power limits now, and although they were formidable, she had Trixie beat on that front. Where Twilight couldn’t hope to compete with the other unicorn was in practical magic experience.

Trixie smirked at her, straining, long mane whipping like a flag in the magical conflagration. Her eyes snapped closed just as her horn started to shimmer.

Twilight’s reaction was too slow. A burst of multicolored lights exploded from Trixie’s horn, making Twilight instinctively flinch away. Her teslavolte spell skittered away from the shield and blasted away a chunk of rock on the far canyon wall, thunder echoing so loud Twilight’s vision would have swum regardless of Trixie’s illusion. Before Twilight could even think about bringing her shield back up, she felt the telltale tingle of ozone close to her nose.

“That… wasn’t fair,” Twilight growled, glaring up at Trixie’s gloating smile. At least what she thought was a gloating smile. Twilight couldn’t exactly see very well right now.

“Life isn’t fair,” Trixie replied, breathing much harder. She even looked a bit wobbly. “Trixie believes that is… seven to three, in favor of Trixie. That means you are cooking lunch today!”

Twilight groaned, but after two days living and traveling with Trixie, she knew better than to argue. The mare was incredibly stubborn; maybe even more stubborn than Twilight herself could be if Trixie thought she was in the right.

“Don’t be a sore loser,” Trixie chided. Her breathing already sounded better; the mare was getting as much physically out of their matches as Twilight was magically. “When you won the other day, you made Trixie refer to herself in the first person for a whole hour! Trixie could be much more petty.”

“That was definitely in the top ten best hours of my life,” Twilight wistfully mused, but she rolled back to her hooves, only a little wobbly, and went over to the travel trunks. Two days on the road, both of them spent cooking lunch, had taught Twilight what the magister did and didn’t like. Travel rations worked fine for Twilight, but Trixie had a “refined palate” that could only tolerate properly-cooked food.

Not that Twilight minded too much. Just because something worked didn’t mean Twilight enjoyed days and days of hardtack biscuits among other, redder, less polite things the military was given to eat when out in the field. Protein was protein, after all, and with enough salt, anything could be palatable…

Twilight chuckled as she dug Trixie’s iron cooking set out of the travel trunks. “Wonder what Trixie would do if I took down a desert quail and served a stew?” With her new lightning trick, it wouldn’t be too hard, and she’d done pretty well with her bush survival training at the fort.

“Trixie would bury you in an unmarked grave.” Apparently, Trixie hadn’t been too far away. “Only a neanderthal would eat meat,” she said, using her favorite nickname for Twilight.

“You might have to readjust,” Twilight countered. She lifted the burlap sack that contained all the dried fruits and vegetables they had left. It was getting pretty light. They had maybe a dozen dried apples left, a bag of mixed beans, hardtack biscuits, assorted nuts, a few potatoes, and dried bread that was looking pretty iffy.

Twilight pulled out enough potatoes and beans for a hash. The beans she put into water to soak and the potatoes she started to peel and cut into cubes to later be mashed. After lunch, there would be enough for another round of hash and bread tonight, but after that, they would have to really ration. “If we don’t get to wherever it is we’re going soon, you’ll be helping me field dress a quail.”

“Grave. Desert. Unmarked,” Trixie reiterated. “Besides, we’re almost there.”

“And where is ‘there’? You still haven’t told me.”

Twilight had to shift over because Trixie decided to come and start on the bread. Twilight didn’t mind; it was easy enough to make a stew from what they had. Trixie, Twilight had discovered, had a preference for stews and soups. Twilight had also discovered that Trixie, despite knowing a great deal about camping and cooking out in the wild, didn’t know much about supplying for two ponies. Twilight understood; she wasn’t used to sharing space either, recent military experience notwithstanding.

The other mare grunted as she diced the hard loaves into cubes. “Outside Las Pegasus. Our expedition leader wants to search the badlands for the beast we’re looking for before we scour the city.”

Las Pegasus. The city of sin, vice, and entertainment. The place where Applewood Studios created radio and movie dramas.

And, apparently, where there was a ferocious monster preying on ponies.

Twilight built a small fire pit and Trixie lit it up with a spark from her horn. “When are you going to teach me the runes for that?” Twilight asked, trying to mask the yawning cavern of longing for new magic behind her innocent question. “A fire spell would be helpful for fighting monsters.”

But Trixie wasn’t a simple pony. “You just want Trixie to give you more spells,” she deadpanned. “Trixie appreciates your knowledge, but you know Trixie’s rule - no new spells until you can hold both a shield and cast the teslavolte at the same time.”

“Miser,” Twilight grumbled as she stirred the soaked beans into the bubbling cauldron. She was getting better at using both spells, but not together, and Trixie was being frustratingly obtuse about it.

“You didn’t even know a spell before Trixie taught you,” Trixie countered, smirking at Twilight’s displeasure. “Greedy little neanderthal. If you beg, Trixie will tell you a trick to holding two spells in your mind at once.”

“If we run out of food you’re not getting any quail.”

“If we run out of food and Trixie starves she will throw herself off a cliff to keep you from gnawing on her Great and Powerful bones.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Eat one rabbit in survival training and ponies assume you’re a cannibal. Some earth ponies villages raise hogs, you know. And Equestria produces more eggs than any other country in the world.” Twilight poked Trixie’s barrel, which made the magister jump. “Speaking of which, that gut of yours still has the scrambled eggs we ate the other day in it.”

“The Thin and Athletic Trixie does not have a… a… gut!” she shrieked. “And eggs are different!”

“How?!”

“They just are!”

The only thing that headed off the argument was the stew starting to bubble and snap. Still smoldering mad, Trixie tipped her cubed bread into the pot and yanked the ladle from Twilight’s magical grip to stir it all in, grumbling all the while. Twilight knew her companion well enough to not push it farther; she didn’t want another fight before lunch.

In all, it wasn’t a horrible meal. Potatoes, both mashed and boiled, a good, thick stew, and some trail mix to top it all off. There was enough there for two plates apiece and the unicorns didn’t leave any leftovers. They had traveled dozens of miles since leaving the train, lugging significant baggage the whole way. Even for a unicorn as fit as Twilight, it was quite the journey.

Twilight glanced sidelong at the magister. “Are we going to get wherever it is we’re going today?” she prodded.

The other unicorn’s nose twitched. “You’ve learned how to be nicer when you imply Trixie is lost,” she said. It almost sounded like Trixie might have appreciated it. “But, in fact, Trixie is relatively certain we are already in communication range. She was going to wait until after lunch...” A look from Twilight had Trixie rolling her eyes. “...but she supposed that it would be best to establish contact as quickly as possible.”

Relief went through Twilight, but she didn’t show it. She had decided, several days ago, to be a bit more respectful to Trixie - when they weren’t slinging lightning at each other - and Twilight was trying to make the effort. Failing, in a lot of places, but still trying, especially when it came to not winding Trixie up about things she cared about… such as how her competence was perceived by others.

But then there was that look from her. Considering. Weighing options. Seeing exactly what Twilight was thinking. Trixie was far from mastering it and she came off as looking more “haughty” than “wisened magister”, but it still made Twilight squirm a bit. She wondered if it was something they actually taught at the Spire.

“You will come help Trixie,” she suddenly decided, and Twilight perked up. Trixie smirked, pleased with whatever scheme she’d just thought up. “Clean the camp and then join Trixie at the top of the canyon.” Before Twilight could get a word in edgewise, Trixie had already teleported away.

Twilight let out a huff. “I have to learn how to do that,” she grumbled as she started gathering up pots and plates.

Ten minutes later and Twilight was halfway up the canyon’s rockface. It was a good post-lunch workout even between scanning each crag and cut in the rocks for the serpentine menace. For a unicorn like her it wasn’t too bad; just a few jumps and some tricky balances. Twilight had learned a few skills from watching the goat washing crew in Canterlot as they scampered around the castle’s buttresses like squirrels.

“Watch where you step!” Trixie shouted. Twilight stopped in her hooves; right where she was about to plod through was a very purposefully-chalked line. She managed to hop over what she could now see as a massive rune ring, carved straight into the rock. Trixie was several paces away putting the final touches on the center, and a massive rune big enough for several ponies to stand in.

Carefully, Twilight picked her way over to the other unicorn. “Can rune circles even be this big?” she asked. “What about magical bleed-off?”

Trixie dramatically sighed. “Oh, Eager and Novice Twilight. There is so much about the finer craft of magic that you do not know,” she said airily. Seeing Twilight’s frown, Trixie’s own expression turned sly. “That you do not know yet. The Philanthropic and Charitable Trixie is willing to let you stay for this casting. In fact, you could say that you are a vital part of it.”

That raised all sorts of flags for Twilight. “...Vital how? We both know that I don’t even recognize these runes.” She narrowed her eyes. “If you tell me I need to bring something back up from the camp, you can stuff it.”

“Nothing so petty!” Trixie exclaimed, with all the faux shock she could muster (which was quite a lot). “Why, Trixie can truthfully say that without you this spell is not possible. And not in any physical way, but a magical one.”

More and more warning bells flashed in Twilight’s head, but the lure of magic was too much. She licked her lips like a diamond dog looking at the perfect gem. “Okay, Trixie. I’ll bite. What are you going to do?”

“Just a bit of magic Trixie has yet to master, but knows is possible. Trixie’s own master, Sunburst, is the expert of its usage, and Trixie believes she is ready for an attempt.” The smile flashed wider. “With your help, of course. Now, come stand over by Trixie - and watch the chalk.”

“This is such a bad idea,” Twilight muttered, but nevertheless she tiptoed over to the center of the circle. A small comfort was that Trixie was standing there as well. Twilight swore to herself that if Trixie teleported away she would bail, magic learning or no magic learning, but the magister stayed firm.

“It’s an excellent idea,” Trixie replied, and she busied herself with directing Twilight around with her telekinesis. “Now, stand there. No, there. Face Trixie. Look Trixie in the eyes. That’s right. Hold still.”

“This is uncomfortable,” Twilight grumbled, although it wasn’t so much uncomfortable as it was embarrassing. Trixie was so close that they were almost touching snouts; Twilight could almost count her eyelashes, even.

Of course, Trixie didn’t seem bothered. She was still adjusting Twilight, but she didn’t miss the look, or the way Twilight’s face was starting to heat up. “Why Twilight, Trixie didn’t know you played hoofball for the other team,” she cooed. “Trixie knows this must be torture to be this close to such a Great and Powerful mare, but Trixie promises it is all for the sake of the spell.”

Twilight snorted. “How your head doesn’t explode from holding in that ego of yours is a medical miracle,” she spat, but it was somewhat undermined by the three-alarm blush now starting to advance down Twilight’s neck. “Can we just get this over with already?!”

“Oh, Trixie supposes. She is not the type of pony to prolong your suffering.” Trixie’s smirk nearly split her whole face; Twilight could see it despite how close they were. “But Trixie was not lying when she said she needs you for this spell. Imagine the circle.”

Those words, even more than Trixie’s teasing, made Twilight shiver. That was the phrase Trixie used whenever she wanted to start a new lesson, and Twilight was practiced at closing her eyes and picturing a runic circle. “Good. Now, imagine raidho, the traveling rune,” Trixie said, using the Old Horse word for the rune. “Imagine how it circles your wheel. Imagine this spell and the journey it needs to make. Sixteen raidho, circling a center gyfu. A journey toward a gift. Trixie will do the rest.”

Raidho and gyfu - journey and gift. And it was important that one was on the wheel and the other was in the center because a spell could take on a completely different flavor if the runes were switched. Twilight had no idea what the spell was for, but she knew the runes. Trixie had begun the last two mornings with runic alphabet and word lessons, the only time the magister had taught traditionally with chalk and something approaching lecture.

So, Twilight knew she was imagining the right magical circle. She knew it because her horn lit almost by itself, like it was on autopilot. The spell was running without her input.

Twilight felt something. In her horn. In her magic. Something new. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was unexpected. Warm, almost uncomfortably so, in her horn. She smelled gunpowder and strange potions, felt… powerful. Ambitious.

...alone…?

“Gah!”

Twilight shook her head, trying to clear out the rush of emotions, as Trixie stumbled away from her. “Trixie? What…”

Journey. Gift. Twilight’s eyes went up to Trixie’s horn - which was now burning orchid.

“Is that-”

“I did it! I did it, I did it, I did it!” Trixie shouted, trotting in place. Then she saw Twilight gaping at her and quickly got herself back under control. Now it was her turn to look red around the collar of her magister robes. “Ahem. That is, we did it. Congratulations on your first casting of real magic, Twilight Sparkle!”

“‘Real magic’? Trixie, what even was that spell? Why does your magic look like mine? What… what were those feelings?”

Trixie scoffed. “Ignore those. That was just some feedback from the spell," she dismissed. "What we did was cast a bit of magic Trixie has been trying to perfect formonths. Sympathetic Magic!” She paused as if Twilight was supposed to be suitably awed. Instead, all she got was a cold fury.

“You stole my magic?!” Twilight demanded.

“Are you actually dense? Trixie said sympathetic magic, not ‘completely evil and banned’ dark magic! Trixie’s master, Magister Sunburst, was the pioneer of its usage, because of how little magic he himself has. He can borrow the magic of other willing unicorns to cast spells the likes of which Equestria has never seen!” She trotted over to the center of her chalk circle and waved a leg at it. “Trixie had been thinking - you said that you are no good at abstract thinking, and Trixie isn’t good at teaching like some boring old lecturer, so this is the best of both worlds!”

Twilight just frowned. She lit her horn and was very relieved that her magic came to her instantly, without issue. Orchid and familiar, too. She let it wisp out with a glare in Trixie’s direction. “Tell me next time you alter my magic,” she growled.

“Oh grow up, Sparkle,” Trixie rejoined. “It was perfectly safe. Trixie is a magister, after all. She knows what she is doing.” Her offense morphed into slyness when she saw Twilight wasn't convinced. “And don’t you want to see what kind of magic Trixie can teach now?”

Don’t fall for it. Don’t fall for it. Don’t fall for it. “...tell me what the spell you just did really does first.” Oh Celestia dammit. "And explain it this time!"

Trixie clapped her hooves. “Oh, nothing too magnificent. Trixie only did a spell that the majority of the magisterium can’t do. Simply, Trixie is skimming some of your magic off the top. Like the frosting on a cake. And it will only work if we’re close when Trixie casts.”

“Like some kind of… magical battery?”

“Well, if you want to put it like that. Trixie prefers to like it to you being Trixie’s magical assistant. The pony who does the backstage work before a magic show, so that show goes smoothly.” Twilight’s deadpan look must have conveyed her feelings, because Trixie hastily added, “And the thing about assistants is that they know all the magician’s tricks! You can feel how Trixie casts, since it is your magic Trixie is using. Watch.”

Trixie’s horn lit orchid and Twilight felt… well, something. In her horn, in her chest, all over. Like pinpricks on her skin. The random magic coalesced into the simple shield Trixie had taught her, and it almost felt like Twilight had cast it herself. Like some kind of phantom limb or something. Not unpleasant, but… distinctly weird.

And then Trixie conjured the telsavolte’ spell at the same time.

And Twilight understood.

The wheel wasn’t a wheel. She felt the magic - her magic - as it flowed into Trixie and split off into the two separate spells. Both were powered by the same raw magic; both felt like they were shaped and molded by rune circles; both intermingled with each other before a hard break where they split off into separate forks.

It was… incredible. Twilight rocked back on her hooves. “You can see both of them at the same time. It’s not a circle at all.” She closed her eyes and imagined the circle. Both the shield and the lighting spell were two separate circles, and her mind couldn’t hold both at the same time in two distinct images, but what if they were part of the same whole? What if they were a sphere? With as many circles carved on the surface as you could imagine?

“Trixie thinks she’s got it~”

Twilight wheeled around, excited. Behind her, by the canyon’s edge, was the perfect boulder to use as a target. First Twilight conjured the shield, then she mentally folded the circle. Her mind wanted to skitter off into a million different directions, but Twilight forced herself to imagine each line, each rune, folding and deforming into the shape she wanted. Then she added the rune circle for the teslavolte to the sphere, taking up the other hemisphere.

A sharp crack of light lanced out from Twilight’s horn, hitting the bolder flush. It felt like the whole canyon rumbled under Twilight’s hooves as a massive dark splotch of burnt carbon appeared on the rock face from where the bolt had struck it.

Two spells at once - her shield hadn’t waivered. Trixie whistled behind her. “That was a big one,” she said, sounding impressed. “Trixie thinks we’re ready for the next bit of magic. If you feel up to helping Trixie.”

Twilight let out a few heavy breaths. Holding two spells like that - It was like trying to look in two different directions at once. Each original runic circle had to be remembered exactly and then distorted correctly on the mental sphere. And you had to imagine the whole, all at once, and keep it in mind for the duration of the spell, while you were moving or chanting or fighting…

“How many can you do at once?” she asked, turning to the magister.

Trixie looked right back at her, then lifted her chin in a smug challenge. “Six,” she said, and Twilight felt her stomach lurch. How was that possible? How could a mind be trained like that? “Minor castings, of course,” Trixie continued, smiling wider. “Only a few rings of runes. Each.”

Twilight’s whole repertoire of spells consisted of two - a shield and a shock spell - that each only had one rune each, on a single ring.

A. Single. Ring.

But right as Twilight felt the gulf between them yawn wider than ever, Trixie sighed and trotted over to her. “Trixie’s assistant shouldn’t be so discouraged,” she said. “You are just a bit behind the curve. Lack of a proper education and all that. Trixie is going to prove you can reach the same plateau with her help.” She pointed to a blank circle drawn on the ground a few feet away, ignoring the seething glare Twilight was giving her. “Now, stand over there.”

Proper education my flank, Twilight thought as she grudgingly went to where Trixie wanted her. “And don’t move too much!” Trixie called out, standing in the middle of the rune circle. Twilight almost wanted to kick through one of the chalk lines out of spite, but it was her magic Trixie was going to be using, so who knows what would happen if the spell went wrong.

“What kind of spell is all this anyway?”

In response, Trixie pulled out a crystal from her robes - a crystal Twilight instantly recognized as the one from the night Trixie had contacted Magister Sol Shard. The communication crystal. “Going to try something a little more impressive this time,” she said and set the thing down in the dirt by her hooves. “Just remember that we’re casting together. Don’t fight it.” With that last warning, Trixie closed her eyes.

Her horn lit. First it was Trixie’s own magenta that slowly enveloped the crystal, lifting it up to eye-level. Then, Twilight felt a tug. A deep tug, deep in her chest, and Trixie’s horn began to spark orchid. First only flashes, but then a raging bonfire of borrowed magic rolled off her horn, flowing into the crystal.

“Stop fighting it!” Trixie hissed in Twilight’s direction. She was shaking and sweating, eyes clenched shut.

“I’m not!” Twilight hissed back. “I’m not doing anything but stand here like some kind of battery! Maybe if you had just told me-”

-why won’t you work!? Why won’t anything I do work out like I need it to?!

Twilight blinked. “Trixie?” she asked, but the mare was completely engrossed in casting her spell. Trixie… she hadn’t said anything, had she?

I can’t be weaker than her! I can’t be worse than some no-knowing pony from the sticks! Some country bumpkin savant!

That was definitely Trixie. Twilight narrowed her eyes at the magister. It must be some kind of bleed through from the connection. Sympathetic magic would be sympathetic, wouldn’t it? Trixie was taking a part of Twilight and using it herself, but would that connection only run one way?

Is she in my mind? Twilight wondered. Could she hear Trixie’s thoughts? Even though the wind was whipping back up, Twilight could easily smell the nose-wrinkling stench of black powder, like the kind in fireworks. She’d smelled that before, when Trixie had first cast the spell. Felt the… the pride of the other unicorn? Her ambition to succeed? Her...

I have to be useful.

Trixie was a stepping stone. Twilight knew that. Everyone was a stepping stone. Bay Orchid, Trixie, the ponies at Fort Dressage - all of them. They were all there just to get Twilight to one place, to one pony. Nothing else mattered. Not a single thing. Not one single pony had ever believe in her, so-

Please work. Please.

Twilight breathed out. She let her eyes drift closed and imagined the circle.

Raidho. Journey.

Gyfu. Gift.

The hiss of fire made Twilight’s eyes fly back open, and she saw that Trixie’s concentration had been interrupted as well. The white chalk on the ground was turning into a burning rune wheel, like it had been a line of kerosine instead of just chalk. The fire leaped from rune to run, circle to circle, until both Twilight and Trixie were surrounded.

But it didn’t burn.

Midday in the desert began to bleed away as the white fire sucked the sunlight out of the world. The ground jerked, hard enough that Twilight nearly toppled over. She braced herself and looked to Trixie, trying to figure out if this was part of the spell, but Trixie was staring at her. Fearfully.

Twilight looked down at herself. Her white coat filled her vision. At the corners of her eyes, licks of fire danced, and she turned around to see a bonfire where her tail should be. The magic coming from Trixie’s horn was red, flecked with gold, and the spinning crystal was sucking up more and more of it, spinning so fast it was humming.

Another lurch of the canyon and the hum became so loud it drowned out everything else. A blast of wind blew away the chalk and the fire both, as the crystal spun wildly in the air between Twilight and Trixie.

And then, in a blink of that moment, both the crystals and the two unicorns vanished from the canyon.

One hundred miles away, still near enough to Las Pegasus to see the lights in the sky, Magister Sunburst, unicorn of the Sixth Circle, blinked. In the span of that blink, the world had gone greyscale and two unicorns had appeared out of thin air - his apprentice and a lavender unicorn wearing a guard uniform.

The magical Entanglement Gem of the Crystal Empire, one of the siblings to the shard he kept himself, clinked down onto the ground in front of him. It was smoking and the smell coming off it smelled like sulfur and rotten eggs.

The lavender unicorn took one look around and promptly threw up.

Trixie blinked back and that small, bashful, tooth-filled smile she would give him whenever she had messed up slowly blossomed on her face.

“...ta-da?”

Author's Note

Don't let strange ponies use your magic. Always cast spells responsibly, in the presence of trained professionals.

Chapter 14

Twilight felt like she was a filly again.

It turned out that Trixie’s master in the Magisterium, a unicorn stallion named Sunburst, had also mastered the trademark disappointed scowl common to most of Twilight’s young authority figures. Fortunately, he reserved most of his ire for his student and it was pretty funny to watch Trixie squirm and take a tongue lashing from someone their own age.

“...and we won’t even get into the ethical implications of using sympathetic magic on an untrained, unknowing unicorn that isn’t even in the Magisterium! Do you even remember Hilderman’s Thirty-Third Law of Magiks?! I swear to Celestia that…”

And so on, and so forth.

While Trixie bore such scholarly admonishment with the poise of a pony who was used to it, Twilight studied the camp and the other ponies around them. Since their impromptu teleportation, things had been packed up and put away into traveling trunks not unlike Trixie’s own (which had been teleported to the camp by another magister, thank Celestia).

“But Tri... I did the spell correctly,” Trixie whined. Twilight would have laughed at how much the “Great and Powerful” Trixie sounded like a chastised foal right then, but she didn’t want Sunburst to turn his ire on her as well. So far he’d pretty much ignored her, which suited Twilight just fine. She didn’t need to add to her “magisters I’ve pissed off” list.

Sunburst’s eyebrows rose high above the rim of his glasses. “Is that so? Light your horn.”

Trixie’s squirming redoubled, but she did as she was told. Twilight felt the small tug from her own magic, and Trixie’s horn glowed with Twilight’s orchid magic.

“That is not correct,” Sunburst lectured. “That is an abnormality! That comes from a lack of proper procedure and preparation when you’re casting the spell!” The unicorn sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I don’t have time to fix this,” he exasperatedly admitted.

He turned to Twilight. “You would be well within your rights to lodge a formal complaint with the Magisterium,” he suddenly said, ignoring the way Trixie gasped and jumped to her hooves. He silenced her with a glare. “My… colleague took advantage of you. While you ultimately did agree to participate in the spell, the High Council would rule that her trespass overrides your tacit approval. You would be paid recompense and have any magical curative provided to you by properly trained Magisters, at no cost, until the effects were reversed.”

Twilight’s eyes slid over to Trixie’s. She looked terrified.

“What kind of effects are you talking about?” she asked, thinking about how it could affect her Guard training. “Is it the… thoughts or emotions bleeding through? How long will it last?”

Sunburst sighed. Twilight only realized after her question that she was probing into his actual spellwork, since Trixie had said he was the originator of the sympathetic magic they had used. “Forgive me, Miss… Twilight, you said? Miss Twilight. The explanation might be a bit more technical than-”

“It will stay as long as we’re close to each other,” Trixie interjected. “The chalk was an external spell wheel, so it has more permanence.” She turned back to Sunburst, sheepish. “I, uh, might have taught her a bit of Magisterium magic. A-All at Magister Sol Shard’s command, of course, and nothing too sensitive!”

“Of course. I had forgotten about that,” Sunburst muttered. Another sigh, another shake of the head. “Right. Well, I’m told you are quite talented, Miss Sparkle. You have to forgive me - I’m not used to unicorns in the Guard who aren’t auxiliary troops or officers.”

Twilight chuckled, embarrassed. “I’m actually just a trainee, but I’ll be commissioned as a second lieutenant. They pulled me out of training for this, so I would like to finish the mission. And, uh, you can call me Twilight… Sir?”

“Please, just Sunburst. Or Magister Sunburst, if you feel the need.” With more information, he was considering Twilight differently and she tried not to squirm - magisters definitely practiced that look. “Well, there shouldn’t be anything too harmful. You’re likely feeling some severe magical fatigue because Magister Lulamoon seems to be completely channeling your magic, but that will go away soon after you two are split up.”

“Ah, uh.” Twilight glanced at Trixie. “I’m… not feeling anything? Is that bad?”

“Nothing? You can still cast?”

Twilight looked around. One of the traveling trunks was sitting nearby, so she reached out with her telekinesis and lifted it. It was heavy, but she didn’t feel any particular strain. Just a normal lift. So she grabbed another. And another.

Now the camp was looking at her weird as the three trunks slowly spun overhead.

“Now you see why Trixie didn’t think the spell would be harmful,” Trixie muttered. “Neanderthal pony.”

“It’s… certainly abnormal,” Sunburst allowed, though he frowned at Trixie’s nickname, but his voice was picking up, losing the hard edge he’d taken with Trixie. “Twilight Sparkle, you said? Any relation to the Canterlot Sparkles?”

Now it was Twilight’s turn to be curious. “That’s my mother’s family.”

Sunburst nodded. “Right, right. Then you must be related to Lieutenant Shining Armor, of the Royal Guard. Sister?” Twilight nodded. “That might very well explain it! Your brother trained his shielding magic at the Magisterium, and his magical reserves were incredible, even by our standards! But your control looks much better! Do you have the same talent for shields?”

Twilight sputtered for an answer as Sunburst looked around to her flank, letting out a happy ah-ha! when he saw her starburst shield cutie mark. Twilight had to admit that it was similar to her brother’s, but shields? She had never thought about it.

“I can conjure a shield,” Twilight said, just to get him to stop staring at her rump. “Do… do you want to see?”

“Please! If you could!”

Twilight nodded. She got to her hooves, trotted a little bit away, and imagined the spell wheel for the shield Trixie had taught her. It was almost a habit at this point, given how often her and Trixie would spar, and the orchid bubble appeared immediately when it was summoned.

Both Sunburst and Trixie crowded around. “It certainly looks solid,” he said, voice distorted by the magical barrier. His hoof pressed into it, and it did give, but it was much stiffer than when Twilight had first conjured it. It pushed him back after only a few inches. “Very stable! A good attempt for a unicorn your age! How many months have you been practicing it?”

“Two days,” Trixie pipped. Sunburst whirled on her and she just smirked. “And look up.”

He did. Overhead were the three travel trunks; Twilight had forgotten about them.

The magister’s rump hit the ground. “Two days?” He parroted, staring at the containers. “That’s… that’s…”

Trixie trotted over to Twilight and, much to Twilight’s surprise, slipped right into her shield like it was nothing but a trifle. She smirked at the way Twilight startled and reared up high enough to wrap a foreleg around her neck. Twilight could have almost thought it was friendly, if it hadn’t been Trixie.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie is quite the teacher, wouldn’t you say?” she asked, all traces of her earlier abashment gone. Twilight didn’t know who she was addressing, either Sunburst or her, or maybe Trixie was just playing to an imaginary audience. She did that, sometimes. “Every challenge she laid down was returned; every lesson memorized! Twilight Sparkle has gone through months of intense magical study in mere days thanks to Trixie’s incredible lesson plans!”

Sunburst stared at her for a long moment. So long that even Trixie’s unflappable showmare’s face started to crack under the scrutiny. Trixie’s eyes frantically flicked to Twilight’s and her eyebrows spasmed in a universal “help me!” gesture.

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Trixie has been very helpful.” Sunburst’s attention went back to her and Twilight saw Trixie let out a sigh of relief out the corner of her eye. “She taught me the runic alphabet, the nature of spell wheels, and two spells. I didn’t know anything until she explained it all to me.”

The magister looked between the two, expression softening. “That does seem to be in line with what Master Sol Shard was telling me. He was impressed with how you handled your mission at Fort Dressage.”

“About that,” Twilight cut in. “Why did you send Trixie to get me? She said you told her to ‘watch out for a purple unicorn and to test her’, when she was talking to Sol Shard. Who told you to do that?”

The ruddy yellow stallion blinked at the creeping hostility in Twilight’s voice. “Well, a colleague of mine said you could be a good fit for monster hunting,” he said. “Magister-”

“Feldspar?” Twilight cut back in.

“I see you remember him,” Sunburst laughed. “He was quite impressed with you, and told all of the higher magisters about your abilities. When he found out about my mission to Las Pegasus, he recommended you. Said, ‘She deserves to see what the life of a magister is like’.”

Twilight groaned and opened her mouth to say something, but Sunburst held up his foreleg to stall her next complaint. “He didn’t mean it as some sort of vengeance,” he said, making Twilight pause. “I got the feeling from talking to him that he greatly respects your abilities. I won’t tell you that he doesn’t hope you’ll still consider the Magisterium as a career, but he also told me that a successful mission here should help you with any career in government.”

“Monster hunting is a very prestigious duty,” Trixie threw in. “This will only be Trixie’s third in her entire life.”

Well… that was. Hm. Twilight scuffed at the ground. “He said all that?” she muttered. “Could you… uh…”

“I’ll tell him that you send your thanks,” Sunburst finished, chuckling at Twilight’s blush, “when I next see him.”

Anything else Twilight wanted to say was interrupted by a massive unicorn stallion, white as snow and built like an earth pony. “Master Sunburst, we’ve…” he trailed off when he finally noticed Twilight and Trixie. “Pardon me, I didn’t see you were occupied.”

Sunburst shook his head. “It’s alright. Trixie, Twilight - this is Ivory Tower, my second-in-command on this hunt. Tower, you remember my former student, Trixie Lulamoon.” Trixie rolled her eyes and Twilight thought she saw a twitch on the stoic Ivory Tower’s face. “Beside her is Twilight Sparkle, Trainee Guard from Fort Dressage. She’s here as an observer.”

The big unicorn nodded, polite but clearly not too interested in either of them. “Of course. A pleasure.” He turned back to Sunburst, ignoring the way Trixie stuck her tongue out at him even before his attention was fully shifted. “We have discovered a cave system that matches our criteria. It’s less than a mile away.”

“That was fast,” Sunburst said, surprised.

“There was a litter heap outside. Bones - of animals, not any ponies from what our scouts could see from the air - and refuse. It seems like a monster’s den.”

Sunburst nodded, stroking his goatee. He turned to the two mares. “Trixie, Twilight, I want you two to go to the equipment tent and get outfitted.” He eyed Twilight for a moment longer, which made her squirm. “Twilight, did you already have basic combat training at Dressage?”

Twilight blinked. That wasn’t the question she thought he’d ask. “Uh, yes. Blades, spears, shields, and basic armor proficiency.” All three tribes underwent weapons training in the fifth week. Her friend, Noble Cause, had scored the highest marks with his sparring skills, but Twilight hadn’t been a slouch. “It was only for crowd control, though.”

“Good enough. Trixie, get her outfitted.” he pointed to a tent, then he pinned Trixie with a frown. “And do not cast too much magic. Ms. Sparkle might have impressive reserves, but the more you cast, the more used to that extra reserve you will get. That will make it much more difficult to adjust when the effects of the sympathetic magic wear off and you go back to just your own magic.”

“We’ll head to the cave in thirty minutes. Be ready to move by then.” With that said, he and Ivory Tower trotted off toward the other magisters, talking in hushed tones.

Twilight didn’t miss the resentful look Trixie sent after them, and she didn’t bother hiding it when she started off toward the equipment tent. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

Twilight had to trot to keep up. She looked back at the group of magisters huddled together. “You don’t need to foalsit me if you should be part of that…” she trailed off.

“They don’t want Trixie to be part of it,” she growled, looking equal parts angry and hurt. “Trixie is the newest magister in the Spire. Master Sunburst still sees Trixie as some kind of filly.”

Well, that was… “That seems a bit…”

“Assholish? Underhooved? Dismissive?”

A giggle might have gotten out before Twilight could reign herself in. “I was going for ‘unprofessional’.” Trixie rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at her lips.

Twilight found a smile as well. “I know what it feels like,” she offered. Trixie glanced at her. “My family wasn’t exactly thrilled I wanted to join the Guard. They tried to ‘manage’ me out of it, because they were more ‘adult’.” She chuckled again. “And you know how things turned out with Feldspar.”

Trixie rolled her eyes. “Oh yes, that. Trixie cannot believe you turned down an offer to join the Magisterium. There are unicorns that would have sawed off their own horns for that opportunity.”

“So I’ve heard. Is it really that big a deal, though?”

The blue unicorn skidded to a stop and wheeled on Twilight. “What?”

“I… I mean, it’s just a job. Right?”

“It’s not ‘just a job’! It’s… it’s… it’s everything! You can’t get cleared for practicing higher magic without training in the magisterium! You can’t own controlled potion ingredients… you can’t even get any serious consideration for magical research without having worn the black cloak!”

Twilight had never seen Trixie so serious about anything before. “The military gets you magical certification too,” she said.

“Yes, but ever since the Magical Reform Edict was passed over a hundred years ago, magic has been severely restricted in Equestria. The Magisterium is the easiest way to get permanently licensed. The Guard takes back your licensing when you retire, don’t they?”

Grudgingly, Twilight had to nod. Trixie smiled, triumphant. “See? When you get out, you’ll have to get re-licensed, which is just a pain.”

When I get out. Those words settled deeper in Twilight’s head more than Trixie probably intended. Guard stints were typically only for ten years for enlisted ponies, maybe twenty if you were an officer.

Twilight would be 37 when she retired from the Royal Guard. That… wasn’t old. What would she do then?

Trixie waved her hoof in front of Twilight’s face, breaking her out of the thought. “Equestria to Twilight, come in Twilight.” She gestured to the tent in front of them. “We’re here,” she said, slipping inside.

No time to think about it now, Twilight thought, resolving to put the thoughts of ‘after’ out of her head. She wasn’t even in the Royal Guard yet, and she was beginning to worry about her life in twenty years? “That’s bad, even for me,” she muttered, following Trixie.

The tent was smaller than Twilight would have thought for a supply depot. There were a few dozen crates and trunks stacked up on the far end, and then bags of items strewn about. Most of it hadn’t even been unpacked except for a single trunk of flying supplies for pegasi - feather oil, goggles, and flight-ready saddlebags. They must have only unpacked the trunk for their scouts.

But, there were a few things Twilight saw that sparked her interest. In the trunk with all the other pegasi gear was a light flying gambeson, which was a padded shirt that covered everything from the neck to the flank. It would be hot in the desert, which was probably why its owner had tossed it back into the trunk, but Twilight felt infinitely better when she stepped into it.

“Found something?” Trixie asked. She’d been looking at saddlebags. “What is that thing?”

“Gambeson,” Twilight said, taking her time adjusting the fit around her forelegs. “Can you lace it for me?”

Trixie sighed, but dutifully trotted over and laced up the shirt down Twilight’s back. There was a complicated set of clasps on this one as well, and Trixie showed a surprising bit of aptitude in getting everything right the first time.

Twilight shook herself, then reared and kicked and did a whole host of other movements to test the fit. Twilight was muscular for a unicorn, and would be bigger and heavier than most pegasi, but it fit her frame well enough. There were even a set of matching saddlebags that fit tightly around her barrel that had been designed for usage with the shirt.

“Want to try and find you a set too?” Twilight asked.

“And sweat to death? Trixie thinks not.” She smirked at the other unicorn and flipped her mane. “When you pass out, do not ask Trixie to carry you.”

Twilight just rolled her eyes. “Armor’s there for protection, not comfort,” Twilight argued. “What are you going to do if you can’t get a shield up in time?”

“That’s a fine thing for Trixie’s guard to say.”

...Her guard? Trixie caught Twilight’s surprised look and frowned in confusion. “What? You’re a guard. A guard guards important things, like Trixie.”

A laugh slipped through Twilight’s discipline. Had she ever met another pony so full of herself? Like, even as a joke? “You’re crazy, Trixie,” she scoffed, smiling.

The mare gasped. “Trixie is not crazy! Trixie is a scholar, a showmare, and always right!”

Twilight’s eyebrows hiked, and she nodded to a heap of clothes Trixie was telekinetically holding up - with Twilight’s orchid magic. “Trixie is… nearly always right,” she amended, quickly tossing the clothes off somewhere in the back of the tent, extinguishing her horn.

She’s such a brat, Twilight thought, still unable to keep a smile from her face. Trixie would have been the oil to Twilight’s water a few years ago, back in school, either too haughty early on or too goofy later, when Twilight joined ROTC. Even just a few months ago Twilight probably would have just written her off as just another roadblock, but Trixie had opened up a whole new world for her, in terms of magic - a world Twilight had thought she’d resigned herself away from.

For just a second, Twilight tried to imagine her life as a Magister, in the Spire. All the remedial lessons she’d probably have to go through, all the hard work she’d already done with the Guard just discarded. Nose in a book, lectures every afternoon, the stares of younger students when she had to sit in on their lessons… Seeing Shining Armor when he dropped by for shield lessons, or Cadance when she could sneak away from the castle. The High Spire was still in Canterlot, after all. Trixie bugging her until Twilight could earn her own black cloak, and then they could start competing for accolades…

“Ah-ha! Here one is!”

Twilight blinked. She’d fallen into one of her daydreams again. At least Trixie hadn’t caught her. “What did you fi-” A blade stabbed straight at Twilight’s face. “-SWEET CELESTIA!” she screamed, falling straight to her belly before she was skewered.

Trixie harrumphed. “You are so dramatic,” she said, swishing the sword back and forth in the air. “No thanks for finding you a prime Magisterium steel blade, just ungrateful ‘oh, you almost stabbed me Trixie!’”

“You did almost stab me! Give me that, you psycho!” Twilight yanked the sword out of Trixie’s magic. “This is made to kill ponies, Trixie! It’s not a toy!”

The ferocity and conviction actually made Trixie look somewhat abashed, which in turn made Twilight feel guilty for treating Trixie like she was in the Guard, but she was too stubborn to apologize for it.

Instead, Twilight studied the so-called ‘prime blade’. It was clearly a blade designed for a unicorn, because instead of a hilt and crossguard it had a second, inverse blade, like a massive boat propeller, though thinner and less curved. These types of blades were only useful for unicorns and their magic. It wasn’t a surprise that a hunt party from the Magisterium would have one or two, even if the only pony Twilight had seen so far that looked even a little athletic, Ivory Tower, didn’t wear one.

Keeping a close eye on where Trixie was standing, Twilight gave it a few test swipes. It was very well balanced, even for being so large, and with a little finesse Twilight could even get it to spin through the air. Fort Dressage only used traditional swords, ones with a place for earth ponies and pegasi to bite onto it, which were short and stubby.

This was an actual unicorn combat blade.

Twilight loved it.

She even turned to thank Trixie, until she saw the supremely smug look on the other unicorn’s face. Really, it was horrible - lips stretched, cheeks pinched, happy, narrowed eyes. The whole lot.

“You like it,” Trixie sang. She didn’t stop smiling even when Twilight pushed past her to get the scabbard that went with it. Annoyingly, it fit into a side loop on her new gambeson like they had been made for each other, keeping the uncovered, back part of the sword away from any important bits.

Trixie continued to follow and taunt as Twilight gathered the rest of her supplies. Rope, flint, a waterskin, and whatever other little, helpful things she could find in the tent. Trixie mirrored her for the most part, but she didn’t stop poking and prodding until they were done and heading back to the group of magisters. Only being near to Sunburst could keep Trixie on a leash, it seemed like.

The magisters were done with their huddle. There were six of them, including Sunburst and Ivory Tower, all draped in the same black robes Trixie was so proud of. Ivory Tower stood out the most because he was a head taller than any of the others, and more muscular. He certainly had the airs of a trained combat mage about him as he gave a visual pass over both Twilight and Trixie as they walked up.

“You found one of our blades,” he said, nodding to the sword resting against Twilight’s side. “It might not be the best use down in the tunnels we may need to journey through.”

“I can always use it like a spear,” Twilight countered. “It’s long enough.” The big unicorn nodded, approving of the logic.

Sunburst didn’t bother looking over Trixie’s equipment. From the bulges under his cloak, Twilight reckoned he had only chosen to wear small saddlebags himself. In fact, none of the unicorns were wearing armor or had weapons. The knee-jerk reaction was that they were being stupid for not preparing, but Twilight had to remind herself that they were magisters and had likely gone on plenty of monster hunts and that she was the novice here.

Suddenly some of the looks from the other magisters weren’t entirely complimentary. Twilight shifted, feeling a bit like that one person in a group who was way too into renaissance fairs. Though, with only a weak little shield she still didn’t feel a hundred percent confident with Twilight was willing to look a little silly.

The leader of the group, clearly Sunburst, cleared his throat. “We’re all here?” he looked around, mentally counting everyone. “Alight. Good. You all know by now that our pegasi scouts have discovered a monster lair a little ways away. Now, keep in mind that there are monster lairs all over the San Palmeno desert, and that it doesn’t mean the attacks in Las Pegasus are coming from this particular lair, but our magical devices have picked up magical readings from the cave system. Powerful magical readings.”

He gave Ivory Tower a look. The big unicorn stepped forward, horn beginning to spark and spit. “Everyone, gather to me. We’ll be teleporting.”

Twilight just followed Trixie’s lead as they crowded around the second-in-command. His horn lit fully; vertigo strangled Twilight.

A mile away, outside a dug-out cave entrance, the unicorn party popped back into reality. Twilight stumbled back, but managed to not vomit up her guts this time. Trixie chuckled at the way she had to clutch her stomach, though.

“It gets easier.”

Twilight glared at her. “That does absolutely nothing to make me feel better now,” she griped. “You think that- ...oh Celestia, what is that smell?”

Other unicorns were gagging; even Ivory Tower couldn’t pretend to be unaffected. It was almost like very rotted fruit, but with a sharp septic smell that made Twilight want to cut her own nose off.

Thankfully, Sunburst quickly cast some sort of spell that whipped up the desert wind around them. It helped some - Twilight still felt like she might throw up, though.

“I think you teleported us to the right spot, Tower” he groaned. He looked at the bones and half-eaten animal carcases strewn about. “I can think of few creatures that willingly live in such filth, and none of them are pleasant.”

The big unicorn smiled - smiled - at that. “When are hunts ever pleasant?” But his humor wore off as he examined the cave.

It was a large opening, leading to a narrow corridor in the back. The ground was hard, ancient sandstone and limestone, so there wasn’t much to worry about with cave-ins, but there was absolutely no telling how deep the tunnel went, or if it was connected to any of the ancient lava tubes in the area. If it was, the beasts could be anywhere.

Twilight watched Ivory Tower turn skywards, and she followed the gaze. Far, far above them was the silhouette of a pegasus, gliding overhead in a wide circle. From under his cloak, Sunburst pulled out a small crystal, not unlike the one Trixie was carrying. It floated near his mouth and glowed a soft green.

“Open Skies, this is Magister Sunburst. Do you read me?”

“Loud and clear, Magister.” The sound came from the crystal, but there was no image like the first time Trixie had used hers. “I see you all got here alight.”

“No issues. Have you seen anything come out of the cave?”

“Not a thing, and I’ve been here all morning. If you want, since you all are here now I can start looking for other entrances.”

Ivory Tower nodded in agreement when Sunburst looked for his opinion. “That will be fine, Skies. I’m going to lead a team down in a few minutes, but I’ll leave the crystal with Black Marble in case you come across anything.” The unicorn in question took the passed-off crystal with a serious nod.

Sunburst walked up to the cave entrance. He looked at the bleached, gnawed bones and frowned. “These are old,” he said. “But the smell from below is fresh. They might have made a kill recently.”

He looked over at Twilight. “You’ve been through survival training already, yes? The whole… wilderness survival bit,” he asked, deliberately obtuse.

Twilight knew what he was talking about. Curiously, Trixie raised an eyebrow. “He’s asking about camp cooking.” Blank look. “The quail thing, Trixie. Remember? We talked about it at lunch today. Desert quail stew?”

Realization, when it finally came to the mare, was swift and terrible. “You… you were serious?! You weren’t just trying to tease Trixie?!” She made a gagging sound and lept back, but she found the energy to point accusingly at Twilight. “You ate a thing! A living thing! A living, chirping thing!”

Twilight smirked at her. “It wasn’t chirping when I ate it.”

“Are you sure we should bring them?” Ivory Tower asked as Trixie started screaming and throwing rocks at Twilight.

Sunburst gave him a look. “And leave them up here, with the others?” Louder, he called out, “Yes, Ms. Twilight. That training. I take it that you have a strong stomach?”

Twilight straightened up and brushed the remains of Trixie’s assault from her armor. “Yes, Sir! I was the only one that passed without needing a second try.”

“Good enough. You’re on the team.”

Trixie’s jaw dropped and she galloped over to the pair. “You can’t be thinking of leaving Trixie behind?” he demanded, looking between Ivory Tower and her master. “Trixie can eat a bird! Trixie can eat two birds!”

Sunburst blanched. “I don’t think we’ll need you to go that far, Trixie.” He shifted, Twilight noticed, and his eyes flicked over to the bones strewn about the area. Twilight wasn’t the best at reading ponies, but she could see the magister was unwilling to bring Trixie with them - and not for the reasons Trixie probably thought. He was harder on her, but it reminded Twilight more of her brother’s relationship with their old ROTC commander than someone who was annoyed at a pupil.

But Twilight also had a good measure of Trixie, and she knew that leaving the unicorn behind would only lead to a massive argument. “Trixie and I work well together,” she pipped, catching Sunburst, and Trixie herself, by surprise. She gave the unicorn mare a significant look. “Don’t we?”

“What are you… oh. Oh! Yes! Trixie and Twilight work incredibly well together, like a well-oiled machine.” Trixie wrapped a hoof around Twilight’s neck and pulled her close. “Two peas in a Great and Powerful pod, Trixie says.”

Sunburst rubbed his forehead. “Is that right?” he glanced at Ivory Tower, who only shrugged, then back at Trixie, who did her best to smile wide and innocent. Finally, likely against his better judgment, he closed his eyes and nodded. “A team of four will work better,” he admitted, “and you two seem to be on the same page. Making Twilight work with a different magister at this point could be dangerous.”

Trixie’s grip tightened, and she cast a sideways smile Twilight’s way as Sunburst and Ivory Tower led the way to the cave. “That’s another one you owe me, Trixie,” Twilight whispered to her.

The blue magister blew a raspberry. “Trixie can just bribe you with new spells,” she declared, and Twilight couldn’t really get too angry since Trixie was probably right. She really didn’t like that the other unicorn had discovered how to manipulate her so easily, though.

But, the closer they got to the cave, the more the humor and playfulness started to drain out of Twilight. The spell keeping the foul stench of death was wearing off, and that smell was hitting Twilight again in full-force the closer they got. At the mouth it was almost overwhelming; Twilight couldn’t imagine what it would be like farther down.

“The smell - it’s getting even worse,” Trixie complained. “What happened to that spell?”

Sunburst sent a light of magic into the darkness. The little glowing ball illuminated part of the passageway, only wide enough for maybe two ponies to walk abreast, but it couldn’t penetrate more than a few dozen feet.

And Twilight had the feeling that this cave went much deeper than that.

They stood there for a few heartbeats, staring at the darkness. “What kinds of monsters could be down there?” Twilight asked.

Ivory Tower’s ear flicked. “Many things,” he rumbled. “A menagerie of beasts live in the dark places of this world, and many of them could be what we are searching for. Basilisks, the worm-touched, umber hulks, myconids, negoli…”

Trixie shivered. “Myconids. Didn’t you have to clear out an infestation of those in Trottingham, Master? They’re horrible fungi that can take over a pony’s body,” she explained to Twilight.

“Not myconids, venom spores. Completely separate. And it was merely a single city block with a shared basement that they had nested in.” Merely or not, Sunburst still shifted at the thought, as he stared down into the cave. “The infestation was… virulent. But, they do not enjoy the desert.” He sighed, seeming to shake off his hesitation. His magelight zipped back to him. “Let’s go.”

What does enjoy the desert then? Twilight wondered. She gave Trixie a look, but the other mare could only shrug as she trotted after her master.

Not wanting to be left behind, Twilight hurriedly caught back up with the group, trying not to shiver when she passed into the full shadows of the cave. The ground was dry and littered with sand for the first few dozen feet, but slowly, as the group descended, Twilight felt more and more moisture under her hooves.

Sunburst and Ivory Tower took point. They walked staggered from each other, but both had a bright magelight sitting atop their horns which was bright enough for Twilight to clearly see the sides of the tunnel wall. It looked fairly natural - until Twilight saw a long, wide cut set deep in the stone.

“Not all of this is natural, is it?” Twilight asked. She’d seen Sunburst and Ivory Tower glance at it as they went past as well.

“It’s certainly been widened in places,” Ivory Tower agreed.

Another cut in the stone came up. This time Trixie stopped to get a better look at it. “Tools didn’t do this,” she declared. “There are too many imperfections.”

Twilight hadn’t noticed that, and she looked at Trixie with a newfound appreciation. She had said that this was her third hunt, hadn’t she? That meant she’d been through this twice already. Her face was serious as her eyes darted around, taking in the tunnel and any clues.

Belatedly, Twilight knew they were probably only talking for her benefit. She had never studied anything about monsters or investigative tactics. So, for the first time in a long time, Twilight started to feel out of her intellectual depth. All she could do was keep her eyes and ears open as they kept descending down, down, down into the dark void.

Twilight roughly counted two hundred or so feet before the passage widened into a massive cavern, but along with the new room to move came more of the stench. Down here it was almost enough to make Twilight gag. The natural cavern they were now in allowed the foursome to finally spread out, which they did, each conjuring their own magelight. There were natural columns of rock that broke up the space, but Twilight could only barely see the far wall across a flat-looking cave floor. The cavern was enormous, even with all the rock features filling it.

“Stay alert,” Sunburst whispered. “Stay close. We don’t know what manner of beast is down here.”

Ivory Tower stopped in his tracks. His magic flared for a moment, illuminating something, before it nearly winked out completely, spilling darkness across his section of the cavern. “Dear Celestia,” he muttered. “Hook horrors.”

Hook horrors. The word went through the other two magisters like fel lightning. Sunburst pushed back to the front of the group and his horn blazed like a torch. What it uncovered made Trixie actually retch.

“Now we know what the smell was,” Sunburst muttered. Twilight forced herself to look at the bodies - not pony bodies, thank Celestia, but the mangled corpses of a dozen creatures strewn about a dirty nest. They were big things, with the largest being several times larger than Twilight. At first Twilight thought there were two different monsters, but she quickly saw that the singular creatures were twisted monsters, with the heads and beaks of a bird and the body of a stubby beetle. In the magelight the shells glittered, free of the decay of the flesh, as did the pair of metallic claws each hook horror had for front legs.

“There are at least a dozen of them,” Ivory Tower muttered, his head shaking. “This nest could have taken our entire group out, if they had ambushed us. What could have done this?”

“And they’re not too old. Look at the nose. There’s only a little fungus.” Sunburst leaned in closer to one of the monster’s faces and forced its mouth open with his magic. “And only a little in the mouth. In a cave like this I would say they’ve been dead for only a week, at the most. They aren’t even bloating yet.”

That was more than Twilight ever wanted to know about dead bodies. Trixie dry heaved a few more times, but she didn’t have anything left to expel. Twilight passed her the waterskin without being asked.

Tower walked around to some of the other bodies. “Some of these look predated. What eats hook horrors?”

“Lots of things,” Sunburst mumbled, “and none we wish to meet down here.”

But Twilight was bothered by something. Holding her breath, she walked as close as she dared to the tangled pile of corpses. Some had obviously been… eaten… by something, but looking closer she saw something else. “These are sword cuts,” she realized. Something had stabbed straight into the bigger hook horrors, or cut into their soft bellies. “Look at this one’s stomach.”

Sunburst frowned. “Are you certain?” He trotted over to her and did a closer look. Clicking his tongue, he rolled the dead beast over, exposing its shell. He adjusted his magelight, making the light move to different angles, exposing shallow shadows across the carapace that had looked smooth at a distance. Some of the grooves were clearly done by the wicked claws of other hook horrors, but there were straight, neat lines as well. Lines from a blade - a heavy one.

“Did the Magisterium send another team?” Tower wondered.

Sunburst looked at the cuts for another few moments and slowly shook his head. “No. No, these aren’t cuts from a conjured blade. Look at the edges of the shell, you can see that it’s not completely clean. Someone else stumbled across this nest - and wiped it out.”

Silence fell in the cavern. Someone using a regular sword had taken down all these monsters? They had come down to this dark hole in the desert and fought them in the horror’s own lair?

“It’s impossible,” Trixie whispered, voicing Twilight’s own thoughts.

Sunburst’s light grew, revealing the entirety of the cavern and the bodies. With the light, though, came new discoveries - cuts across the stone stalagmites and stalactites, sprays of blue ichor across the floor and walls and ceiling, and scorches from mage fire or lightning everywhere in between.

There were no other bodies to be seen. Someone had waged a war down here, hundreds of feet below the desert, and came away victorious.

“Look over there, at the back,” Tower called out. The resolute unicorn raised his foreleg and pointed at another tunnel. It wasn’t natural like the one leading down; the sides were too smooth, like someone had just cut a jagged chunk out of the wall. Rubble was piled up all along the back of the cavern too.

Without needing to be told, they formed back up. Sunburst led, with Twilight and Trixie behind him. Tower fell to the back of the group, keeping a careful eye out, as the magister led them toward the new passage. Disturbingly, though, the closer they got to the tunnel the less they needed the magelights - something within was casting a dull red glow against the walls.

Sunburst extinguished his completely, with Tower and Trixie doing the same. Twilight reached out with her telekinesis and groped at the blade strapped around her middle. The long, thin strip of enspelled metal slid free with only a slight hiss. She had no illusions about being able to fight against whoever had dispatched those hook horrors, but not knowing any combat spells she wanted something. No one said anything to her, not even Trixie, which made Twilight feel a little braver.

“Is that crystal light?” Trixie whispered, only to snap her mouth shut at a look from Sunburst.

They walked down the passageway carefully, with only the sounds of Twilight’s non-spelled horseshoes hooves giving them away to anything listening, and even that was swallowed up when Ivory Tower cast a wordless spell behind her. Twilight couldn’t even hear her own breathing when he was done, or the rustling of their clothes.

Now, truly, it was silent as a tomb.

The glow intensified, eventually becoming clear as a lit lamp when they stuck their heads out into the new cavern. Or, rather, room because it was clear that this new space had been purposefully cut out of the rock.

It was small, about twenty feet by twenty feet. Trixie had been right; the walls were lined with glowing red crystals, giving up a steady glow that let the group see the lived-in space they had discovered. Along one wall was a small cot made of molded rock and hay, with a molded desk and a molded chair right beside it.

But that wasn’t the center point of the room. Taking up the largest part by far, in a pit that looked like it’d been dug out by picks and chisels, was the shattered shell of a massive, massive egg. Disgusting, foul-smelling dried afterbirth was encrusted on the floor around it and the shell looked leathery and shriveled, but Twilight could imagine it whole and it would come up to her eyes at least.

Sunburst looked around. There were no other ways out of the room. “No one touch anything,” he ordered, looking straight at Trixie.

“Trigger one poison dart trap in an ancient temple and you are branded for life,” she huffed, though she didn’t move to immediately go rummaging. Ivory Tower stepped up to the shattered egg and bent down to examine a piece of it, while Sunburst started muttering a spell by the doorway.

Twilight realized there were no eyes on her. Trixie was looking at the egg with Ivory Tower and Sunburst was busy with his spell. Feeling a bit foolish with her blade out, Twilight put it back into its sheath and wandered over to the desk. It was neat, except for a few scraps of paper. Twilight tried to make heads or tails of the words on them, but it was all gibberish to her. Some kind of code? Maybe, but Twilight was no cryptologist.

Nothing else on the desk caught her attention, so she moved to the bed. There was a small blanket folded neatly at the foot, but the hay only went an inch or so deep before it was just hard stone. Whoever slept on this was camping worse than Twilight was back at Fort Dressage.

She was going to go look at the egg with Trixie, but something caught her attention. A splotch of black amongst the faded yellow hay. Twilight looked back at Sunburst. His horn was flashing and white letters were starting to appear around the doorframe. Ivory Tower and Trixie were now in the pit, talking about different types of monsters that could have come from it. Dragons had already been ruled out, but Trixie was saying it could be something called a “dragon turtle”, which had started a discussion about whether or not a dragon turtle was an actual dragon. They were too engrossed in that to keep track of Twilight.

What could it hurt? Twilight lit her horn and pushed aside the hay. The splotch grew more and more until she had dug out a small, journal-sized book, wrapped in coarse, black leather. Even feeling the stuff through her telekinesis was disquieting. She had heard that griffons and minotaurs used the stuff, but to see it in Equestria was jarring.

She flipped it open and nearly choked. It was full of magical wheels. The more pages she turned, the more wheels she saw. There was text as well, in that strange cipher the documents were written in, but the wheels! Twilight could understand them!

“Hey, guys. I found-”

A deep rumble that raced throughout the cave cut Twilight off. Trixie’s and Tower’s conversation died and Sunburst wheeled around, looking at them accusingly. “What did you do?” he demanded of Trixie.

“Nothing! I didn’t touch anything!”

Twilight panicked and shoved the black book into her saddlebag before the magister’s eyes fell on her. All he saw was her standing by the bed, sword back out and looking around fitfully as the rumble became more pronounced.

A horrible, grating screech of rock grinding against rock came from the far side of the room. Twilight jumped back as the wall closest to her suddenly fell away like a massive trap door, revealing a massive suit of armor. It was full combat barding, made to fit a stallion twice as bulky as Sunburst.

“Get away from it!” he shouted, horn glowing. He looked to Ivory Tower. “Helmed horror?”

The other magister nodded. “Agreed. We have to get out of here.”

But it was already too late. Behind the blood-red helmet, the empty space was suddenly filled by a dark light, pitch black except for two bright red points where the eyes would have been. To Twilight's growing panic, the suit seemed to stand on its own, spectral legs lifting it up. All the parts of the armor seemed to gain the same mass within, filling out with a wispy blackness that propelled the suit out of its little alcove.

It’s chanfron swiveled to Twilight, and the little pinpricks of light under that helmet stared straight at her. An enormous blade, as red and vicious as the rest of the armor, pulled free from a sheath on its back. The claymore itself was as long as Twilight was, but it floated loose and steady in the air between them.

The room suddenly lit in a strobe of blue light. Trixie leaped forward, horn sparking with Twilight’s orchid magic and crackling electricity, aimed straight at the helmed horror. She set her stance, braced herself, and shot an incredible bolt of lightning, straight at the thing’s chest. It hit dead center and the resulting thunderclap popped Twilight’s ears.

But it didn’t stagger. In fact, it didn’t do anything at all. Little blue arcs of lightning jumped all around the metal barding, but it didn’t look like the horror even felt them. Or could it feel anything at all?

Another spell, this one from Sunburst, came at the construct. An orb of fire the size of a beach ball slammed into its head, but the flames simply washed around the armor, not even leaving a scorch mark.

“Two immunities, fire and electricity,” he said. “What’s the third?”

Ivory Tower let out a breath. His horn didn’t fling a spell, but Twilight thought she saw a wisp of magic try and grab the thing. The armor shook, but it didn’t look like the helmed horror was even noticing it. “Telekinesis.”

“Okay, now I know we need to- Look out!”

Twilight’s blade came up just in time to intercept the horror's claymore before it could separate Trixie’s head from her shoulders. The magister yelped and jumped back to the others, but Twilight was separated from them. The helmed horror stepped into the gap and pushed his blade with his infernal magic, and Twilight started to give way.

It was so strong! Twilight’s one point of pride was her telekinesis, and this thing was matching her. No, overcoming her! It was using leverage to push down on Twilight’s blade, which was far easier than Twilight trying to keep hers up. The sharp edges slide off each other in a shower of sparks, and Twilight hand to scrambled out the way of its swings as it got around her guard with ease.

The stone bed behind her was sliced in twain. Another swipe that Twilight couldn’t deflect took out the desk and then the thing ran at her, metal plates grinding against each other from the effort. It was fast, too, and nearly took Twilight’s own head off with a kick, but she managed to crouch justin time. Its armored horseshoes plowed into the wall instead, chipping off rock.

Twilight stabbed up with her blade, but its point only skidded off the thick peytral protecting the horror’s chest. It tried to stomp her, but Twilight rolled out the way at the last second. Its infernal hooves hit the carved floor like thunderclaps and its head swung around to her in what Twilight could have thought was fury had it been alive.

“Twilight! Over here! Get through the doorway!” Sunburst yelled. The others were already gone.

She made a break for it. The horror’s sword whipped at her, and Twilight couldn’t deflect the whole strike. She felt fire race along her barrel as the tip caught flesh and gouged several long lines into her skin, biting through the thin fabric of her padded coat with ease. It hurt horribly, but Twilight focused on the door and pushed through the pain.

Sunburst was right behind her. The horror thundered after them, but when he tried to pass the portal it crumpled like it’d just ran into a wall. The thing fell hard on the stone floor, but was back up on its feet almost immediately.

“Strigan’s Portal Permanence,” Sunburst wheezed. “It… it can create a barrier… oh Celestia I haven’t had to do spellwork like that in a long time…”

Twilight suddenly remembered that Trixie had told her that Sunburst had come up with the majority of sympathetic magic in Equestria as a way to overcome his naturally low capacity for magic. “Are you going to be alright?” she asked, watching as the horror started hacking away at the invisible block with his blade.

“Yes, but we need to get out of here. The horror is likely bound to this specific place and can’t follow us into the desert.” He winced as the entire cave seemed to shake with the fury of the helmed horror’s strikes. “...I hope.”

“Magister Sunburst!” That was Ivory Tower, and it had come from the central cavern. “Your assistance is needed!”

Twilight and Sunburst shared a look, then ran toward the rest of their party. One of them had lit a magelight near the roof and illuminated the entire cavern in blue. The other two magisters were still near the door, but staring out into the cavern with tense expressions.

Ivory Tower glanced at Sunburst. “The helmed horror?”

“Contained.” Sunburst’s tone was clipped as he fought to not show his exhaustion. “The hook horrors?”

The large unicorn’s lips pulled into a strained smile. “You already know. We are facing a necromancer.”

Necromancer. The word made Twilight’s skin crawl. Every unicorn knew about necromancers, those unicorns that dyed themselves in dark magic. They were casters of incredible power, able to wield that evilness without losing their minds, and the most famous of them were villains the likes of which Equestria rarely saw.

But right now, at this moment, the most important thing about them was that they could raise the dead.

A shudder went through one of the hook horror corpses. Twilight saw the decayed muscles tense with power as it jerkingly pushed itself to its feet with its massive claws. The neck of the thing, so much like a bird’s, twisted at unnatural angles as it took in the reunited party.

It roared at them, diseased mouth flinging flecks of spittle and ichor. Whatever foul magics had reanimated it gave the beast unnatural vitality, because it rushed them at a lolloping gait that was rapidly gaining terrible momentum.

Ivory Tower blocked its way. With a flick of his horn, the undead beast lit in white fire, stumbling in its run and crashing into a stalagmite. The force of the blow broke the stone off from the cavern roof, sending shards of rock skittering every which way. Its horrible cries echoed as the fire slowly snuffed it out, and one last fireball from Sunburst silenced it for good.

“You shouldn’t waste your magic,” Tower rumbled, and Twilight saw why he hadn’t relaxed. Even as the one downed monster stopped thrashing, the pile of mangled corpses was beginning to stir. Half-eaten hook horrors were pushing themselves upright, and even ones with missing limbs were starting to move.

It was something out of a nightmare, and yet Twilight knew she had to fight. Her only solace was that the remaining ones weren't in nearly as whole a shape as the first.

“I have to save what I have left for the helmed horror behind us,” Sunburst whispered. Twilight had blocked that monster out of her mind. She had to if she was going to focus on the most immediate threat. “Ivory Tower…?”

But it was Trixie that stepped forward. She was shaking and shivering, but she stared down the mass of monsters firmly. “The Great and Powerful Trixie will handle this,” she said. Her eyes flicked to Twilight’s, pleading.

Well. This is what guards were for, wasn’t it? Twilight brought her blade up. She doubted either of the two spells she knew would be much help against these things, and the weapon was starting to feel comfortable anyway.

And Twilight would probably feel guilty if Trixie ran off and died. “An assistant should stand by her teacher.”

Presented with two willing meals, the zombified hook horrors turned their attention to the two mares. Trixie’s horn lit orchid and she whipped her head in a wide circle. Twilight recognized the spell as the one Trixie had used against her at the fort, so she got ready.

The air shimmered and a fiery red line followed the motions of Trixie’s horn. The wide circle of fire blazed white-hot for a moment, making the corpses pause. With another whip of Trixie’s neck, the circle went flying at the beasts. Twilight ran after it, blade spinning overhead. The circle caught several of them, burning straight into their bodies and igniting the oily flesh. As they flailed, Twilight’s blade flicked out, cutting and slicing at will. The ones without real mobility went down easy, and the fire still burned even when it crashed into the stone floor.

Motion caught Twilight’s attention and she spun, just in time for her blade to go up and catch the two descending hooks of an intact horror. The thing pushed down at her and its beak snaked around the obstruction, spittle and blood splattering with every snap.

Twilight twisted on her hooves and kicked out at the thing, feeling the shattering of its beak against her horseshoes. It stumbled back and Twilight drove forward, blade flashing in the blue magelight. But in her hurry she stabbed instead of swiped, and the steel only sank midway into the beast’s stomach.

“Move!” Trixie shouted. Twilight dove out the way just as a titanic bolt of orchid lightning honed in on the jutting metal. The beast warbled and groaned, but was cooked just as efficiently as the ones hit by fire. It collapsed in a smoking heap at Twilight’s hooves, blade only a little scorched.

There were only a few undead horrors left, but the second demise of their group didn’t deter them. They came on with the mindless determination of the dead.

Another tremor went through the cavern. “That was my containment spell!” Sunburst shouted.

“We’re still dealing with these things!” Trixie shouted back. She whipped back to Twilight, eyes wide and worried.

Twilight made her decision. She spun on her hooves and galloped to the back of the cavern. Ivory Tower passed her on the way, horn blazing, as he thundered to take her place bulldozing a way through the hook horrors.

Sunburst was straining. He had cast some kind of shield on this entrance to the tunnel, but it clearly wasn’t as solid as his first one. Every terrible swing of the horror’s sword seemed to rob him of his vitality, and he was shaking with the strain of holding the creature back.

“Let him through!” she ordered, setting her stance. “Don’t tire yourself out! Do it!” she shouted as he hesitated.

The moment the shield was down the fell suit of armor charged, red blade spinning in a deadly arc overhead. Twilight shifted and dodged as it came down where she’d been standing, trapping the horror’s blade in the stone floor. The construct made no noise when Twilight kicked it hard enough to dent its armor, nor did it look worse for wear after taking a blow that had shattered monster bone not a few moments before.

It wrenched its sword back through sheer force of black magic, sending Twilight’s blade flying off into the growing darkness until she caught hold of it again. Wordlessly, it lunged at her, sword flashing, stabbing out at Twilight’s defenses. She parried as best she could, but her training at the fort hadn’t covered anything beyond the basics and this creature was by far her master.

But Twilight wasn’t alone. Sunburst's horn flared and a stream of frosted air slammed into the side of the horror. Twilight’s skin shivered even though she wasn’t in the direct stream, and she kept well back from it as the spell intensified. Ice began to build up all along the thing’s armor, across the small, intricate plates that made up its crinet and crupper, and then into the larger joints of its neck and back. Even its spectral legs began to frost over.

“The head!” Sunburst shouted. “You must get the helmet away from the rest of the body!”

Twilight galloped at the thing, screaming as she brought her blade down on its neck. The armor caught the blow, but it hadn’t been able to turn and deflect. She slammed into it again, one mighty swing after another, until her sword snapped clean in half.

The armor shuddered as it fought free of the ice. Plates of metal were hanging off it as the rivets and straps holding it together had snapped from Twilight’s furious attack, but the animated armor was still standing. Haggard, covered in ice, and moving much slower - but still standing.

And now Twilight didn’t have a sword.

She looked around in a fit. Trixie and Ivory Tower were still fighting the last of the hook horrors and neither of them had brought a weapon. Sunburst was leaning against the cavern wall, huffing furiously. That ice spell had been all he had left.

The massive red metal broadsword flew at Twilight. It, at least, didn’t lose any of its speed and ferocity, unlike its wielder. Twilight ducked and dove, but it was keeping her back. Twilight thought that a few good kicks would end the fight, and the horror seemed to come to the same conclusion and wasn’t letting her close range.

Twilight knew that eventually she would slip up. Sweat was pouring off her and the humid mire of the deep underground was starting to really get to her. The helmed horror had no such limitations; it could fight and fight and fight until its creator told it to stop. What did heat or exhaustion mean to it? Twilight knew that she had to conserve energy where she could, but without a sword to block and parry with her defense was down to her own agility, and her telekinesis was useless against the thing.

For a split second Twilight thought about bringing down the ceiling on the horror, but what if that collapsed the whole cave?

“Anyone have any ideas?!” she shouted, ducking under a swipe so razor close that it cropped a part of her mane down to her neck.

“Trixie is busy!” the other unicorn shouted. She was at grips with a hook horror - it had her pinned against the wall of the cavern and only Trixie’s shield was keeping it from nipping chunks out of her. Ivory Tower plowed into the undead at speed, body glowing white with magic, and crashed the beast through a stalagmite.

Inspiration struck. Twilight grabbed the biggest chunk of the new rubble she could get and sent it hurtling at the horror like a club. The thing saw the attack coming and stepped out the way of the wild swing, which slammed into the nearest wall like a hammer. Undeterred, Twilight quickly pulled her new club back and sent it at the knight again.

Its red blade flashed and the chunk of stalagmite was cut neatly in half. Before Twilight could even comprehend that, the blade was sailing toward her in a wild spin so fast Twilight could hear the air being displaced.

Her own orchid shield came up out of reflex. The sword chopped her bubble with enough force to deform the entire thing, pushing into and deforming the spell like a stallion trying to crush a water balloon underhoof, but it gave Twilight enough time to scramble out of the way before it popped.

So. It couldn’t just pop the shield immediately. Twilight pawed at the ground, considering. She was at least a dozen strides from the horror, but if she could get close she was sure a good kick would end the fight.

Twilight gathered her magic. She dug in her hooves. She reared and pushed forward with all the energy she had left to give.

The helmed horror’s sword rocketed back to it and put itself between the charging unicorn and its body. Twilight’s shield shimmered to life even as the red claymore struck true, cutting deep into the orchid bubble.

Too deep.

It popped with the loud crack! of shattering glass and the flat of the blade caught Twilight full on the shoulder. She was lifted off her hooves and flung like a rag doll, slamming against the wall of the cavern.

Her vision swam. The glow of the blue magelight seemed far dimmer, the shadows growing longer, and all she could hear was a horrible high pitched ringing between her ears that stole her concentration. Twilight thought she heard someone scream her name, but there was little she could do to answer them. All she really wanted to do was rest, if only for a few minutes.

A blurry thing appeared before her. Something metallic lifted her chin, so she could look at it. A black mass of squirming, slithering darkness at the end of the sword which would rob her of life. From that vision of terror, epiphany hit - the armor wasn’t to protect the thing inside, it was there to contain it. Restrain it. Force it into a form that could serve and give it will and purpose to suit its master.

The helmed horror didn’t wish to obey, but Twilight sensed it would take great pleasure in ending her life.

But something blindly white plowed into it.

Ivory Tower bellowed as he bowled the construct over. He reared up and brought his front hooves down again and again, the sound of metal horseshoe on fell armor echoing throughout the cavern. Trixie galloped up to Twilight and helped her get to her feet, though not without incredible effort on Twilight’s part.

The magister’s eyes widened as she looked at the massive knot forming under Twilight’s fur by her shoulder. “Is it broken?” she asked, voice scratchy. “We… we have to get out of here! We have to-”

The great magister stallion bellowed again, but this was no war cry. Trixie fell back on her rump with shock as Ivory Tower was flung back, sailing over both unicorn’s heads. Drops of blood fell on them and the massive unicorn made no sound as he bounced across the cavern floor, before sliding to a stop by the far wall.

He didn’t get up.

“Oh Celestia,” Trixie whispered. It sounded like the beginning of a prayer. The horror was back on its feet, looking much worse for wear now but certainly not down. Rivers of pure darkness leaked from the holes and breaks in its armor, and an infernal red fire burned inside its shattered helmet.

From behind the horror, Sunburst furiously raised his head, horn sparking back to life. With an almost casual swing of its sword, the horror crumpled the magister with the flat of its sword, ignoring Trixie's shrill scream as Sunburst's limp body crashed to the cavern floor.

The magelight overhead abruptly winked out. Darkness filled the void, only chased away by the inferno that was the wounded helmed horror. The red light from its helmet danced along the walls of the cave-like a demonic camera obscura, and Twilight saw murder and madness in the shadow theater as the thing stalked forward with silent, furious, gleeful intent.

Trixie’s breath was coming out in hysterical puffs. What little she could have done against the thing was impossible for her now. Her eyes were wide, watery, and locked on the shadowy form of her master and the pool of blood gathering under his face.

The same terror was beginning to take Twilight. Every purposeful step of the horror stole slivers of what little bravery she had left. In the darkness over the things head, Twilight could see that wicked red sword, swishing back and forth like the tail of a manticore - it could strike at any moment, running either her or Trixie through, but the helmed horror was only slowly pacing toward them, seemingly relishing the fear rolling off the two unicorns.

It was beginning to come unbound from its maker's will, and the thing lurking inside the armor enjoyed toying with them.

Twilight’s mind flashed the exit. On the far side of the cavern, across the newly broken bodies of the hook horrors, was the passage upwards. Could the thing follow her? Would it follow her, with Trixie, Sunburst, and Ivory Tower still left to murder? There were a dozen magisters waiting for them to return; Twilight was sure that so many would utterly destroy this thing. It was the best plan, the smartest plan. The plan that would get Twilight out of this hole alive.

Trixie didn’t even glance at her when Twilight finally got to her feet. She was shocked, comatose, locked in a listless stare with her coming doom. She paid no attention to Twilight as the other unicorn moved.

The helmed horror stopped, it’s fires flickering.

Twilight glared back at it from her place in front of Trixie.

It’s helmeted head tilted to the side, questioning. Curious.

“A guard guards.”

They stared at each other for a long moment before Twilight’s statement seemed to penetrate whatever constituted a mind for the soulless creation, because the infernal glow inside its armor billowed in anger. The slow, savoring pace it had been setting before was gone; it rushed her like a fiery freight train.

A twist of Twilight’s head and the largest piece of her shattered sword flew to her side. There were only two or so feet of steel left, and cracks ran up and down the blade. It wouldn’t hold by itself. Twilight’s shield popped between massive red claymore and Twilight’s own sword, adding that one extra layer of protection, which was enough to keep it from instantly breaking again.

But the helmed horror sensed victory. It bore down on Twilight, buckling her knees to the stone floor. It was so close that its infernal flames licked at her fur; drips of shadow fell onto her from the dents and breaks in its armor. Twilight tried to push it back, but the thing had all the leverage in the world to keep her locked down.

I need more magic! Twilight realized. She tried to desperately claw for the wellspring of power she knew was deep inside, the one brought out when Trixie had teleported them across the desert, but Twilight had no idea how to call it forth. She couldn’t concentrate. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t hold the sword back!

“Trixie,” Twilight gasped. “Trixie! Help me!”

The magister had shrank back. “I… I can’t help! I’m weak! I failed!” She curled tighter into a ball. “You… you have the power! You do it! Trixie can’t… I can’t… Master Sunburst…”

Twilight grit her teeth. Her muscles were straining, dancing up and down her body, as she tried with all her might to push the thing back. It wouldn’t budge! Twilight couldn’t move it! “Sunburst will dieif you don’t help me!” She cried out her control was pushed back farther and the tip of her own blade pressed into her chest. “I’ll die, Trixie!”

“I- I-”

Slowly the edge split her skin, digging deeper. Now the horror’s own sword was right there, only a few hairs away from her skin. “Trixie!”

Trixie gasped in lungfuls of air. She looked at Twilight, now nearly on the ground, only holding herself upright with her shaking front legs. The blood coming off her in a thousand little drops. The sound of the armor-wearing bonfire that was nearly humming with malevolent victory.

Twilight’s eyes fitfully jerked to the side. Her shield was glowing red hot and her blade was only held together by telekinesis. “Please, Trixie! Please!”

A scream. Twilight’s when her blade finally shattered and the infernal claymore bit into the skin of her neck - and Trixie’s own, as she surged up in a fit of manic rage. Her horn flared, orchid magic morphing into pure fire, drilling straight into the broken helmet of the demonic horror when Trixie reared at it. The thing stumbled back, but it still slammed a front leg into Trixie’s face and sent her straight to the ground.

Twilight slipped off the slack claymore. Grabbed it, with the last of her strength. She felt the dark magic of the horror try and stop her, but it was weak. Tenuous. The weight of the blade settled onto her shoulders as she heaved it up.

The horror lept at her like a rabid animal, all conditioning and restraints broken. It was a mass of pure shadow and dark flames and the fell magics animating it blazed fitfully, lighting the cavern like a dark star. An elemental horror that could only consume.

Twilight’s infernal claymore sang. It slashed straight through the mass of shadows like it weighed nothing. Like it had been made for her. It split the horror from head to breast and bit deep into the stone floor.

The thing hung in the air for a breath, pulsing like the demonic heart of an elder god. Twilight screamed again, yanking back up the claymore and slicing down again and again, spilling shadow and tiny licks of infernal fire with every swipe until the dark cavern was lit up like night’s sky. Even when the horrible thing groaned and exploded into bits of shattered armor, Twilight kept slashing and stomping and screaming until each one was nothing but a crunched ruin.

In the complete blackness of the cavern, the only light came from the claymore. The red runes on its blade danced and shimmered, before Twilight let it slip from her magical grasp. They went dark without her magic feeding them.

Trixie was sobbing. Twilight heard her, wanted to go over to her, but her legs finally gave out. Her neck was numb, but she felt the blood dripping down her chest. The cut on her side had grown wider as well, and Twilight toppled over on her other side.

She let her eyes slip closed, slowly losing the sound of Trixie to the encroaching unconsciousness as exhaustion caught up with her.

Author's Note

So, I sincearly hope you all enjoyed this chapter. These days I rarely have this much creativity; I almost feel like my 2008 self.

You might also notice I'm using a lot of DnD monsters for this. I don't play DnD, but I own a lot of the supplementary materials and I love reading through the monster manual. Whenever I use a monster, I'll put a link to them here in the author's notes so you can get a better idea of what they are.

I'll still do my best to incorporate them organically into the story, though.

Hooked Horrors
Helmed Horror

Chapter 15

Las Pegasus was, in stark contrast to other cities in the land, rather quiet during the day. Streets were swept by the local government, any kind of repairs to the casinos and hotels were undertaken, and ponies of every stripe and walk of life were usually sleeping, getting ready for the night of gambling and revelry ahead.

Therefore, when a rageful “Celestia buck it!” shook nearly every window in a two-block radius, ponies were rightfully startled out of their daily routines. Usually, a clammer like that didn’t start until after the nightly losses in the casinos started to mount.

But it was no gambling loss that prompted the outburst. Deep under the city, mired in the web of utility tunnels that snaked under the metropolis, a necromancer trashed about in a fit of rage. Bubbly purple magics spit and sputtered from its horn like a broken fuse box, but the power of the unicorn could swiftly be attested to - if only any of the witnesses weren’t undead husks, an unwitting audience to their master’s potency as they were.

The mirror that had just played the last few moments of a helmed horror cracked, buckled, and ultimately was crushed down into a tiny ball of molten metal by the unicorn’s dark grip - a victim of its displeasure. A rare magical artifact to be sure, but not one the unicorn couldn’t enchant again. And imagining the mirror was a certain lavender mare’s skull certainly helped the unicorn’s mood.

But however good it might have felt to vent frustrations on an inanimate object, the fact that the desert lair had been taken couldn’t be ignored. It had only been partially cleared out and held important papers - including a quick reference guide to the ancient, heavy grimoire sitting in its place of prestige on the other side of the room. Only a hundred or so pages, encrypted, of course, detailing only some combat spells useful for ridding the cave of its more virulent residents... but still. It had taken them several weeks to transcribe it, at a great cost of materials and time. Its loss was nearly as great as that of the helmed horror.

And that thought made the anger come surging back. So much had gone into its creation, from making various bargains, material and demonic alike, for materials, to capturing the ancient soul of a powerful devil. Even the armor itself had been specially-crafted out of Saddle Arabian runesteel! Barring traveling all the way back to that hellish corner of the world, there would be no replacing it!

An incredible loss. More than the book, more than the lair itself, more than anything there!

The sewer shook. “Well, there may have been one thing in that pit more valuable,” the amended, a slow smile spreading across their lips. They tossed away the crushed mirror and walked out into the darkness of the tunnels... or what remained of them. What had been a simple sewer tunnel was now three times its old size, carved out of the limestone below the city. Only the dark, purple light of the necromancer’s horn lit the darkness.

Creatures scattered. Small, mean things that were only useful for their labor. Dozens of beady yellow eyes stared at the unicorn from the darkness, brave enough to watch, but not brave enough to challenge the mage for control over the subterranean nest.

Not when it was here.

A rumble and the things scattered like the vermin they were. The necromancer’s lips curled. From the darkness, a pale face appeared, and then another. Long, white necks growing into the unicorn’s light like mushrooms. Mouths hanging slightly, showing stained teeth larger than the necromancer was tall. But they showed no fear; this was their beast.

“Our timetable has been pushed forward,” the unicorn said, voice echoing off the cavern. Each of the heads took the words independently, gnawing on them like a mental soup bone. Not for the first time did the unicorn wonder just how this thing’s mind worked. Were the heads in tandem? Was it playing at some kind of pantomime, putting on a show for its master?

The necromancer shook their head. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that the enemy, that unicorn, was here now, in the city. Right above their heads. Dangerous, but also a grand opportunity.

A new sound. The creature was always making noise (which the necromancer had, in accordance with the ancient, ruinous texts that taught them how to find its egg in the first place, immunized itself to), but now there was a new note. A new chorus among the wailing.

A third face appeared out of the dark. Stubby, malformed. Lips and teeth still locked behind a thin veil of veiny afterbirth, but visible all the same. The necromancer could swear it was smiling.

Three heads. Five to go.

And then, finally, revenge.

Defense in Depth: Chapter 15

Twilight shifted. Twisted, as much as she could, but something tugged unpleasantly at her skin and flopped back into her original position. It was an unsettling feeling and she reached out with her magic to stop it, but nothing came.

A hoof brushed across her shoulder, gently pushing her back down. “There’s no need for that, Miss Twilight.” A mare’s voice. Kind, but professional. “You need your rest. You’ve been through an ordeal.”

With more than a little effort, Twilight managed to get her eyes open. Blinding light hit her, and she curled her neck away, pushing down into the soft pillow she was resting on. “Blarh,” she groaned.

“Oh, the light. My apologies.” Twilight heard a soft click and the white halo bleeding through her eyelids gradually retreated. Cautiously, Twilight cracked an eye. Everything was hazy and unfocused, but there was definitely a pony-shaped thing standing next to her... bed?

Twilight pushed herself up with her forelegs. The pony at her bedside gave her a helping hoof and there were enough pillows to pile under Twilight’s chest to stay upright.

Her eyes cleared a bit more. “You’re a...” Twilight noticed the small cap on top of the mare’s head. “...a nurse? Is this...”

“Sunset Medical Center,” the nurse provided. “The central-most hospital in Las Pegasus.

Hospital? How had she gotten here? The last thing Twilight remembered was that cave and that... helmed horror. She’d killed it, hadn’t she? But it had...

Twilight tried to get all the way up, but a firm press of magic kept her still. “I need... where’s... Sunburst!” Twilight looked around, ignoring the sudden alarming beeping of the machines she was hooked up to. “Trixie! Trixie?!”

“...shurt up...”

The surprise Twilight felt hearing that voice allowed the nurse to finally put Twilight back under the covers of her hospital bed. The beeping from the machine gradually slowed down and went back to normal, which the nurse let out a relieved sigh at.

“You’re quite the handful,” she muttered, but her expression softened when she followed Twilight’s eyes to the blue unicorn sleeping in a chair pulled up to the foot of Twilight’s bed. “She rotates between rooms all day. Always find her in here with you in the morning, though.”

What an idiot, Twilight thought, but a smile was tugging at her lips. Twilight noticed the large bandage on the side of Trixie’s face, covering her left eye - where the horror had stomped her after she’d gored it. “Is she alright?”

“Only some stitches, from what I understand. They were worried about a hairline fracture in her jaw as well, but I believe the doctors managed to heal it. The black eye will have to heal on its own.”

Twilight nodded. She’d gotten a few black eyes in her life, but she was sure Trixie would be complaining about it for days - when she wasn’t being an absolute terror teasing Twilight about needing to be saved in the first place. She would be so insufferable...

...but Twilight didn’t feel like she’d mind it too much. Maybe Trixie’s earned it?

The nurse used the lull in the conversation to swap out Twilight’s IV bag, and the unicorn finally took a good look at everything she was hooked up to. There were two IV lines in her: one was a clear IV and the other was a blood bag sitting at around half-full.

It was a little creepy to see a bag of blood just hanging there, and the tube running down into her neck. Twilight felt lucky that she couldn’t actually see where the hose went in, since it was up close to the base of her skull and the main artery there.

“I lost a lot of blood?” she asked, breaking the steady stream of beeps and hisses coming from the machines.

The nurse was quiet for a moment. So long that Twilight didn’t think she’d get an answer. “It was... touch and go, for a few hours.” Twilight thought that was a more polite way of saying “you almost died” than the truth. It didn’t surprise her, really. She remembered losing the sword fight with the horror, and the way that claymore had cut into her neck at the last second. Before Trixie had saved her. Saved all of them, really.

Twilight let out a deep breath and concentrated on her horn. It felt whole, and for that she was supremely thankful. A broken horn was a handicap no unicorn wanted to live with. Her magic felt strained, though.

“Please don’t try and cast with a dampener on,” the nurse said. “It’s for your own health.”

Dampener. Twilight rolled her eyes; she hated those things. When she concentrated she could feel the thin band of bespelled iron sitting at the base of her horn. “How’s my neck? Other than the blood.”

Another hesitation. “Miss Sparkle, I don’t think-”

The door to the room cracked open. Twilight smiled when she recognized the stallion poking his head in. “Sorry to eavesdrop, but I can take it from here.”

The nurse startled. Sunburst was there, by the door. His entire chest was wrapped in a thick cast, but he hobbled inside the room without too much trouble. He even managed to smile at the nurse without it looking too fake.

“But, you shouldn’t be...”

Sunburst’s smile didn’t leave. “I promise I shall take it easy, but this is Magisterium business.” The polite emphasis wasn’t lost on the mare and she finally nodded, defeated.

“Do not get excited,” she warned Twilight as she smoothed out the bed. “There’s a button on the wall you can push if you need anything.”

Somehow Sunburst managed not to wilt under the look the nurse gave him on her way out. “Charming mare,” he muttered. His petulance shifted to genuine affection when he turned back to Twilight. “And there’s our little hero.”

A groan from the foot of the bed. “Trixie can practically hear her head inflating from here,” the unicorn groaned, cracking her single bloodshot eye first at Twilight, then at her teacher. Slowly, grudgingly, she lifted her head to properly join the conversation.

Twilight couldn’t help but stare at the bandage that covered half of Trixie’s face. Even past that, larger than the bandage, was the ugly purple bruise on the magister’s face. She didn’t look away quick enough and Trixie caught her staring; Twilight couldn’t hold the mare’s one uncovered eye.

The unicorn sighed, which also blew a stray cowlick of mane out of her face. “Trixie supposes you feel guilty?” she asked, sounding petulant.

Guilt? Guilt made the most sense. But she remembered Trixie's scream Sunburst had been thrown against the wall. The horror in her face when Ivory Tower's broken body was flung over their heads. The sobbing when the horror was looming over her. The split-second Twilight felt something when the mess of a unicorn had speared that damn thing with her horn and saved them both.

“Yeah. Guilty.” Guilt was easy. Guilt Twilight understood; could compartmentalize efficiently. Had time for. “Sorry, Trixie. I was supposed to guard you. But now you have stitches, and your eye. I just... I wasn’t strong enough and you ended up having to save me.”

Trixie’s scoff was as exaggerated as always. “How ridiculous! You were there to do manual labor for Trixie, not fight her battles. If anything, Trixie should... she should...” The mare’s voice trailed off, losing her normal fire. Twilight glanced up at her, but the other unicorn was staring down at the checkered bedspread. Her face was angled away, so Twilight couldn’t see her uncovered eye. “I should be thanking you,” she whispered.

The thick tension was thankfully shattered by Sunburst. “Well, I never thought I would see the day,” he said, staring at Trixie, “when you would play the martyr.”

Twilight expected that to break Trixie’s melancholy, but she just made a humming sound and curled up tighter in her chair. Sunburst looked questioningly at Twilight, but she shrugged. Twilight had no idea what Trixie’s normal moods were like; they’d only been traveling with each other for a few days. Shouldn’t he have a better idea?

But it seemed like Sunburst didn’t. Instead, he just barreled over the uncomfortableness by continuing on. “W-Well, regardless of how all this turned out, I am glad you joined us on this expedition, Twilight Sparkle. I’ll be sending my regards to your trainers at Fort Dressage, along with an official Magisterium accolade!” He floated something over to Twilight - a small golden pip, the type worn on a service uniform. “We usually can’t give them out to trainees, but in this case we’ll be asking the fort to officially present it to you after you graduate.”

That... was a big deal! Twilight felt her heart jump - and the machines at her bedside echoed it - when she took the medal. These were only given out to ponies that had gone above and beyond the call of duty, and only for joint missions with the Magisterium. A trainee getting one was unprecedented, as far as Twilight knew.

Sunburst looked over to Trixie. “And of course you’ll also get rewarded. This could easily be your capstone project for your next journeyman circle. You could see the fastest advancement in Magisterium history from this.”

Unlike Twilight, though, Trixie didn’t look thankful. “Because it’s such an honor to be cut from the investigation,” she spat.

Those words shook Twilight out of her daydreams of greatness. “Wait, what? We beat the monster, Trixie. It’s gone.” She turned to Sunburst. “It is gone, right?”

“That helmed horror has been exorcised from our world,” he quickly affirmed. “There are no traces of it left. Even its sword has been thoroughly de-spelled. It’s now just an inert lump of Saddle Arabian runesteel.” He nodded to a corner in the room, where Twilight was surprised to see the massive red blade. The glowing runes along its fuller were now just dead marks in the metal - bereft of the fel magic that had once animated them.

“But the helmed horror wasn’t what we were hunting,” Trixie cut back in. “The necromancer is still out there! And whatever was in that egg!”

Sunburst’s lips thinned. “Yes,” he admitted, “they are. But our group is in no condition to investigate further. If they are in this city, and if they are behind the disappearances, we cannot afford to provoke them into more overt action. A relief team is already being prepared at the High Spire.”

“So we just wait?” Twilight demanded. “They could be out there right now killing ponies! We should be getting a militia together or, or something. Not just sitting here!”

“And you would do what, exactly, in the state you are in?”

Sunburst jumped. Cast and all, he leaped straight up, a solid foot off the ground, at the sudden voice. Trixie was on her feet, horn blazing, at the sliver of shimmering of light that had just appeared in the center of the room. Twilight tried to get up, machines and tubes be damned, but an inescapable force of magic stilled her struggling.

A head appeared. Ancient eyes narrowed slightly at Twilight. “None of that, Miss Sparkle,” it sternly said. Soon the rest of the unicorn’s body stepped out into the room as if the laws of magic hadn’t just been broken.

Recovering in excellent time, Sunburst pushed his glasses back up his snout and respectfully dipped his head. “Master,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting the replacement force until tomorrow.”

There was only one pony Sunburst would call his master, and Twilight recognized the unicorn - the Supreme Magister of the High Spire, in the wrinkled flesh.

He was a short stallion, bent with age. His coat might have been brown at one time in his life, but now it had grey splotches covering his ears, snout, and what little Twilight could see of his chest in the gap of his magister robe. It seemed to shimmer in the fluorescent lights of the hospital, reminding Twilight of velvet.

Sol Shard's eyes were alert, though, even if their color had dimmed similarly to his coat. He took in the room with practiced ease, zeroing in on his student.

“That’s because they’ll still be arriving tomorrow. I came early when I heard of your injuries.” The stallion actually did seem worried as he took in the extent of the casts, which surprised Twilight. He hadn’t seemed the… caring type, when she’d first met him.

“I trust that you are following hospital orders, Sunburst.”

“O-Of course…”

Sol Shard snorted, just like an old goat. “See that you do.” His attention turned to Trixie next, eyes narrowing. “And you? Lost the eye?”

Trixie frantically shook her head. “J-Just some stitches, Sir. Master Sir.”

“Just ‘Master’ will suffice, Magister Lulamoon. I’ve been told that you and Miss Sparkle were the only things that kept the team alive. I might even owe you a personal debt, Lulamoon.” He glanced out the corner of his eye at Sunburst, who wilted. “I’m not ready to lose my old apprentice just yet. And you apparently saved me one of my best combat casters, also.”

“Ivory Tower?" Twilight guessed. She felt a flush of shame; she hadn't even thought about him.

Sol Shard’s face tightened. “He’s lost a leg, but the Magisterium has prosthetics that will make him nearly whole. But it was an incredibly close thing, Miss Sparkle. If the rest of the team had needed to finish the horror as well as rescue you all he wouldn’t be with us. Incidentally, he asked me personally to send his regards to you two. He is not an easy stallion to impress.”

A leg. Losing a leg was one of the worst things that could happen to a pony, prosthetic or not. Twilight’s eyes went to the runesteel blade unbidden. That had taken Ivory Tower’s leg. Wielded by an evil construct that had nearly killed them all. There were cursed runes on it, disabled or not, and Twilight had nearly been beheaded by the thing.

And yet… she wanted to take it up again. To feel its weight in her magic again. Badly.

“Ah, and there’s the last bit of the horror left.”

Sol Shard had followed her eyes. The elderly stallion hummed. He floated the massive sword over, turning it in the air like a jeweler examining a precious stone. “Runesteel,” he muttered. The blade didn’t whistle so much as it hummed as the Master Magister whipped it through the air, just as expertly as any trained swordsman. He pointed it away and looked straight down the blade with the same critical eye. “This is an old blade. From before the founding. There are several enchantments still on it, but the worst of them are gone. Your work, Sunburst?”

“Yes, Master. It was cursed, of course, but there are several helpful ones we left for weight, sharpness, and strength.”

Sol Shard nodded and the massive sword slid back into its sheath without so much as a hiss. “A fine weapon. I assume you have already promised it to our guard helper?” Sunburst nodded. “Excellent. May it serve you well, Miss Sparkle.”

Twilight finally let out the breath she’d been holding since the magister had taken an interest in the blade. “T-Thank you. I… was worried you would want to keep it,” she admitted.

“I do. Very much so.” He twirled the scabbard a few times and Twilight thought she saw a small smile tugging at his lips. “Learning the history that must have followed such a weapon would make for a wonderful diversion in my spare time, but it is not mine to research.” Now there was a smirk on his face. “If you ever get the chance, show it to Princess Celestia. She may recognize it.”

Show it to Princess Celestia. Twilight’s eyes grew so wide they felt like they might pop. The idea that Princess Celestia might want to see Twilight’s sword was… was…

“Master,” Trixie called out, snuffing Twilight’s daydreams of the princess before they could begin. “Master. Trixie, ah, I was wondering if I could still be a part of the team.”

Sol Shard cocked an eyebrow. “With only one working eye and your magic still under the influence of that ill-conceived sympathetic magic spell you cast?" His smile turned sardonic when Trixie visibly blanched. "Yes, Magister Lulamoon, Sunburst filled me in on that. And he was completely correct about the possible repercussions if Miss Sparkle had proved to be the vindictive sort. In fact…”

He walked up to Twilight’s hospital bed. Trixie flinched back, as did Twilight, when he lowered his horn at them. A magic mist slithered out of his horn and enveloped the two mares.

The effect was immediate. Trixie let out a gasp and fell forward, her horn sparking. Twilight felt a disquiet pull on her horn and it itched like a botched filing job. Horribly uncomfortable and it only got worse as Sol Shard continued his spell.

Finally, seemingly tired of the slow pace, the old stallion snorted and whipped his head. Trixie growled like a wounded animal and Twilight fell back onto her pillow, clutching her horn. But in a moment the scratchy feeling left, along with the stallion’s magic.

“That was more difficult than it should have been,” Sol Shard grunted. He looked sharply at Trixie. “I hope that teaches you a valuable lesson about becoming dependent on outside magical sources, Magister Lulamoon. This is your second offense, is it not?”

Twilight wasn’t so out of sorts that she missed the stricken look on Trixie’s face. “I said she could do it,” Twilight cut in, breathing hard.

Now Sol Shard gave her a look, but Twilight didn’t back down. As terrifying as it was to meet the eyes of the stallion, who technically was the second-most powerful creature in Equestria, Twilight felt herself just grow more resolved. “It’s true,” she insisted. “Trixie told me that she knew a way to get us to the rest of the team and then she explained the spell she wanted to do. I told her to go ahead.”

Amazingly, the ancient magister looked away first. “Stubborn,” he muttered. “Very well, I won’t put this down as a mark on her record, but you two should refrain from any more… experimentation with magics. And no, Magister Lulamoon, you two will not be on the team. In fact, you are now under Magisterium orders to rest and recuperate until next Monday, after which you will escort Miss Sparkle back to Fort Dressage.”

Trixie turned red. Twilight actually thought she was going to see her shout the stallion down, but Sol Shard just stared at her, daring. Trixie’s nose flared and Twilight could actually hear her teeth grinding, but she was smart enough to just hiss a, “Yes, Magister Sol Shard.”

“That’s settled then,” the stallion declared. He turned around and walked toward the door. “Sunburst, come with me. I need you to walk me through everything you saw in that cave before the coven gets here tomorrow.” The yellow unicorn gave Trixie a sympathetic look, but he dutifully followed Sol Shard out the door.

Except for the beeping of the machines Twilight was hooked up to, the room was remarkably silent. Trixie was still staring at the door, lost in her own thoughts. Twilight could imagine what she was thinking, sympathetic link or no, after Trixie’s blow up in the desert at being similarly dismissed then. This time Twilight didn’t have any comfort to share and she tensed, waiting on the unicorn to explode.

Only, Trixie didn’t. She just sat there for a long moment, clearly seething, but she pushed away from the bed without a tantrum. “I’ll come back and see you tomorrow,” she said to Twilight. “We’ll go over the train tickets or something.”

That wasn’t right. Twilight wanted her to yell, or curse, or come up with some kind of joke. Not… wilt, defeated. “They’re wrong, Trixie,” Twilight blurted. It made the mare stop on the way to the door at least. “You’re a great magister. You… you saved my life, Trixie.”

Twilight heard the unicorn open her mouth, the click of her tongue as she tried to come up with something, but the soft click of her teeth as her mouth closed again heralded her leaving as much as the clink of the closing door did.

Twilight slumped in her bed. She stared at the sword across the room, mind wandering, as a wave of exhaustion hit her.

Author's Note

A short chapter, because I'm doing some big rewrites and fleshing-out of the second half.

Also, coincidentally, I'm looking to update the cover art of this fic. If you know anyone who can draw a good guard Twilight and takes some commissions, let me know!

Chapter 16

“And you signed section 3A, front and back?”

“Ye- Oh. Sorry, missed the back.”

“And what about 9N? There’s a line there about releasing the attending physicians of any wrongdoing, that you need to also sign when releasing yourself against our recommendation.”

“Signed it already. And I did section 11C.”

The nurse didn’t look as pleased with that as Twilight felt, but she nodded after verifying all the correct signatures. “Very well, Miss Sparkle,” she sighed, “you’re free to go. But the doctors wanted me to reiterate that you should be monitored for another few days, at least.”

Of course they did. It took a lot for Twilight not to tell the nurse to hurry up, but she clamped down on that immediate compulsion. She was in the downstairs waiting room, almost out the door. She could see the sunlight.

Finally the nurse slid the clipboard back over to her. She didn’t look pleased. “Everything seems to be in order then. But, Miss Sparkle, once again I want to caution you. You lost a lot of blood. Even with a transfusion, if you start to feel weak, or feverish, we want you to check yourself back in.”

“Sure.” No way in hell. “I’m free to go now? Can I have my things back?”

‘Her things’ being the saddlebags and tattered gambeson that the nurse begrudgingly turned over to her. Her padded suit certainly seen better days; it was scuffed and cut and some of the straps had been snapped, but Twilight stepped back into it, right at the hospital desk, and managed to get it tied by herself. It just felt right, and the one thing she hadn’t let out of her sight, her sword, fit right along the back like they’d been made for each other.

But that wasn’t the thing Twilight was looking the most forward to. Not by a long shot. But it would have to wait for later, even though Twilight shivered as she felt its weight in her saddlebags as she strapped them on.

The nurse said something else, probably another warning, but Twilight’s attention was already gone. It’d been a strained thing over the last three days as she endured test after test, even though she didn’t feel bad at all. Each morning had been better than the last until she no longer felt the need to play nice with the hospital.

Especially considering everyone else seemed to have forgotten about her.

Twilight wasn’t interested in any prospective excuse, either. Trixie hadn’t shown her face since walking out on her days ago. Neither had Sunburst or Sol Shard for that matter. Twilight didn’t think the Grand Magister of the High Spire had an obligation to take any kind of interest in her, but it would have been nice just to get some kind of notice about what was going on. After all, she only had a few more days before shipping back to Fort Dressage.

Damn Trixie. Well, if that’s the way her partner wanted to play it, then whatever. What did it matter if Twilight thought they’d parted on… well, not good terms, but at least friendly.

One day Twilight could understand. Trixie was mad at being cut out of the investigation, same as Twilight. Two days, even. Maybe she was off getting drunk somewhere? Or living it up in a casino for a bit.

But three days and not a word? No. Twilight had demanded to be checked out that morning. If Trixie wanted to be an angry mule, then so be it. They wouldn’t be each other’s problem anymore.

It was still early morning. There were a few ponies walking around outside the Sunset Medical Center, either arriving or waiting for a rickshaw taxi. The hot desert air hit hard out here, away from the blessing of air conditioning. It was a dry, oppressive heat, but not as bad as it had been out in the desert itself. Las Pegasus was a city in the clouds, after all - half a construction of both unicorn and pegasi magic, and the other half an amazing work of earth pony mountaincrafting. The result was a resort city of both cloud and stone floating above and around the Applewood mountains. That made it convenient when the city needed to grow - the pegasi could just push more clouds around the existing city center.

The altitude made the heat bearable, at least. But that altitude came with its own challenges, such as the one staring Twilight right in the face a few feet from the hospital’s doorway.

Clouds. Puffy, springy, white clouds that surrounded narrow strips of walkable land for non-pegasi.

“This can’t be real,” she muttered, stunned. She knew that Las Pegasus was a pegasus city, but seeing it was something completely different. She’d just been in a building supported by land which was in turn supported by nothing but… what? Clouds? Did that make any sense at all?

A nearby rickshaw puller chuckled. “First time walking up here?” he asked. “It’s safe. No worries.” He jumped up and down a few times, just to prove it. “The magisterium unicorns keep it all up in the air. They say they don’t have to cast the spell but one time a year, but they do it every three months just to make everyone feel better. Don’t want to scare off the tourists, right?”

“That would be bad for business,” Twilight admitted. Taking a deep breath, she put her other hoof down on the walkway, then her back hooves. It felt… normal. Like regular ground. Just don’t think about it, she thought. It won’t make sense no matter what.

“See? Firm as a mountain. Just don’t go wandering off the beaten trails unless you suddenly grow wings.” His eyes flicked to her gambeson, then her sword. “Here on leave or something? We get a lot of you guards from the fort before they go back home or to their first assignments.”

“Something like that. An assignment before I graduate. Have you seen any magisters out here this morning? Unicorns in black cloaks?”

The stallion shook his head. “Not today, but I did see one yesterday. Yellow, wearing glasses.” He chuckled. “Teleported away before I could so much as give him my sales pitch. But you’re still here. Need a lift?”

Twilight shook her head. “No bits,” she said. Saying it out loud actually made it sink in that, yes, she definitely had a problem if she couldn’t find the magisters. Sheepishly, she asked, “I don’t suppose you know where the magisters in the city stay at?”

“I’ll do you one better. I’ll take you there and put it on their tab.” He pointed to his rickshaw. “I don’t suppose that you would be cheating me for a free ride, considering whose money you’d be taking.”

So that was how Twilight found herself being carried into town on an authentic Las Pegasus rickshaw. Her puller was telling her about this casino, or that casino, and about the history of the city as they went further in. Buildings got older and the new, pretty walkways slowly gave way to old cobblestone.

“We’re on the mountain now,” the puller said. “Las Pegasus and Applewood used to be two separate things, but it all got mushed together a century or two ago. Still easy to tell, though. The heart of the city is built right on top of a shaved mountaintop. There's a few thousand feet of stone under us. There are some old casinos back here before they started making them out of that spongy concrete stuff that can sit easier on the clouds.”

“So this is technically old Applewood?”

The stallion nodded. “Yup. I’ll be level with you - I prefer it back here when I can put my hooves on the actual ground. No offense to you unicorn types. It’s not that I don’t trust the spells, but...”

“No, I completely understand what you mean,” Twilight assured him. She was breathing easier knowing that it was 100% Equestria below her now too.

And the stallion was right. The buildings here were showing their age and the sturdiness of their construction. Some of them reminded Twilight of Manehattan or the lower parts of Canterlot, with their old stone construction and narrow alleyways between each building. Twilight could see little windows of the day-to-day life of the citizens here when the lights of the casinos weren’t on as she rumbled past.

Eventually, the rickshaw came to a halt in front of a stately-looking row house situated at the intersection of two streets. It stood out from the rest of the block by its off-grey blocks that made up its four stories, rather than the brick or sandstone of its neighbors. Set at the very top, high enough that Twilight had to crane her neck, was a massive attic window that Twilight imagined was the eye of some magical giant, looking out over the city. On each level there were gargoyle statues, each with a different, horrible face, staring down at whoever would dare walk up to the door.

“Creepy, isn’t it?” the rickshaw puller intoned, but there was a teasing smile on his lips. “Like I said, I’ll put the bill on the Chantry’s tab. Although… if you were lying for a free ride, I’d let you just work if off by pulling the rickshaw for a few trips, rather than make them track you down.”

Twilight shook her head, but she had to admit that the building was definitely creepy. “Believe me, I’d find better ways of stealing rides than cheating the Magisterium.”

She went up to the door as the rickshaw puller clopped back down the street. Without him, Twilight suddenly felt alone. Strange city, no money, no real idea where she was - it hit her there, on those doorsteps, how isolated she’d become. If Sunburst or Trixie weren’t here, what then? Where would she go?

But those thoughts didn’t rule Twilight, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. Her hoof rapped on the door with three deep knocks and the sound of them seemed to echo in whatever space laid beyond.

No answer. Twilight counted to ten in her head and knocked again, louder this time. Ponies walking by looked at her like she was mad, whispering to each other as they passed, staring at the little mare in tattered armor knocking on the door to the Magisterium.

A few more seconds went by. Twilight leaned over the porch railing, trying to look in one of the windows. Only blackness stared back at her from within.

“What is it?”

The voice surprised Twilight enough that she nearly fell right over the railing and into the hedges. “Who is that?!” she demanded, spinning around and looking every which way. The ponies on the street still looked at her like a madmare, but none of them had said anything.

But the voice didn't just come from nowhere. Twilight’s ears were still instinctually swiveled toward it - or rather, toward the gargoyle statue crouched closest to the door. It was an ugly thing, with a face like a monkey and twice as tall as Twilight at the shoulders. The etching on it was amazing. Twilight could easily see that it had been carved with armor, lamellar plates if she didn’t miss her mark, and a helmet.

Twilight rolled her eyes, embarrassed at herself. It was a speaker system, clearly. Very cleverly hidden. She couldn’t make out where the speaker was, no matter how much she searched for it.

Ah, but the mouth was open, wasn’t it? That’s where Twilight would have put a speaker.

Whoever had carved this thing had been a master, that was for sure. The thing even had rows of carved teeth and a tongue. Was the speaker down there? Twilight leaned in, hoping to catch a glimpse...

The thing’s mouth snapped shut like a bear trap, nearly taking off the tip of her hoof. Twilight flailed and fell back on the steps, looking up in awe as the massive stone thing rolled its neck, sending little flecks of concrete and dust skittering where it moved.

Its eyes rolled up, revealing two black jewels instead of concrete carving. Jewels that Twilight felt zero in on her. Some snickering from the street lessened the wonder somewhat; some passersby had stopped to watch, others to laugh. Apparently this wasn’t too rare of a show.

A look of bored distaste came over the sculpture. “Are you blind, deaf, and dumb? I asked what you wanted with this chantry. We’re not expecting any deliveries today. Solicitors are eaten on sight.” His teeth gave another bored chitter in Twilight’s direction.

Gathering her wits, Twilight pushed off her haunches and (cautiously) approached the gargoyle. “I’m Twilight Sparkle,” she said.

“Nice to meet you, Twilight Sparkle,” the thing said, amicably. “Now. Kindly sod off. Or don’t, and wait for the city watch to catch you. Carrying around a prop like that in broad daylight I’m sure they won’t be long.”

Twilight stomped her foot. “It’s not a prop and I’m not going away! Not until I talk to Magister Sunburst. Or Trixie Lulamoon.”

Finally, the gargoyle seemed interested. But it was the wrong kind of interest. Instead of the boredom from before, the stone ape’s face twisted into a giddy, cruel mask as more and more of its body started to crack and grind. Twilight had thought it was twice her size, but watching it clamber down from its perch she saw that her estimate was… not in the least bit accurate. The thing towered over her. Stretched all the way out it would have to stoop to even get into the building it was protecting.

It suddenly crouched, hundreds upon hundreds of pounds of stone collapsing all at once, in the blink of an eye, until it was only a hair’s breadth from Twilight’s face. “So, you’re saying you won’t leave? That you, right now, are refusing to vacate Magisterium property?” it asked, with barely contained anticipation.

“N-Not at all,” Twilight stuttered, suddenly feeling far, far too small for this conversation. The fists alone on this thing were bigger than her head! “I said that I wanted to talk to Magister Sunburst or Trixie Lulamoon!”

“And I said that we’re not entertaining solicitors.” It reached out and caught Twilight by the back of her tattered gambeson and lifted her as easy as she would a pebble off the road. Up, up, up she went until her legs flailed around in the air a dozen feet off the ground. Now she had been the one brought to its level to talk. “We get fans like you from time to time,” it said, stepping forward off the doorstep in a single stride. Ponies on the street scattered like little animals. “You think that you’re something special and that you can just march down to your local chantry, throw some names around, and get whisked off to magic school. You went the extra mile with the sword, but I’ve seen better.”

The colossal thing dropped her in the middle of the street, though it did bend down so it wasn’t too bad of a jolt on Twilight’s bad leg. “Don’t come back,” the gargoyle warned as it walked away.

Twilight followed.

There were a few gasps from the crowd as Twilight darted between the gargoyle’s legs, standing between it and its perch.

“I’m going in,” she said.

The stone monkey smiled. It wasn’t a mean smile, or a giddy one. Just sad. With one hand, it reached out again to catch Twilight by the scuff of her gambeson.

An orchid glow stopped his hand. The gargoyle stared at its appendage, frowning, but its black eyes glittered. “Maybe you are better than the normal riff-raff I have to deal with,” it amended.

Then it pressed.

Twilight’s legs instantly started to buckle at the intense force being put against her telekinesis. She was a certified telekinetic powerlifter, but this thing was in another weight class entirely. With just one stone arm it was putting so much pressure on Twilight’s hold that her horn was starting to burn from the strain.

“I’m pretty impressed right now,” the monkey stated, and it honestly did sound sincere. Ponies had stopped to stare and the laughter was nowhere to be heard. “I could just choose to ignore your magic and squish you like a bug, but this is the most interesting thing I’ve done in over a decade. But how long can you keep this up?”

“Until you go get Sunburst or Trixie,” Twilight growled through grit teeth. She sucked in a hiss of breath when the gargoyle used his free arm to press down on the one Twilight was holding back.

Suddenly, the front door to the chantry slammed open. “What is all this ruckus?!” someone demanded, and Twilight dropped her telekinesis in shock. The second she did the stone hand rocketed forward and caught her around the barrel, like a toy. Like her magic didn’t even matter.

The smile on the gargoyle’s face was gone, replaced by a blank look. “Removing a solicitor, Master Strauss,” it said, voice devoid of any inflection. “I apologize for the disturbance.”

“Strauss” was a unicorn stallion. Middle-aged, but coat still a vibrant red, he looked like an angry devil standing in the doorway. His chique, rounded glasses perched precariously on his muzzle, but yellow eyes stared out balefully from behind them. Twilight shivered when those eyes landed on her.

“It took you this long to remove a simple solicitor? We deal with them at least twice a month without you bothering the chantry. Are you suddenly deficient for your task?”

The stone hand gripping her tensed at the question. “No, Master,” it said. “This one is simply more talented than most.”

Strauss scoffed. “Then you are deficient. You have enough anti-warding built into you to ignore Princess Celestia’s magic, if only until she tires of playing and burns you out like a cinder.” The unicorn’s eyes narrowed. “Did you forget, or do you need me to experiment and see why my runes are not functioning correctly? Release them, at once, and I will deal with your failure later.”

Twilight yelped as she suddenly fell half a dozen feet. The gargoyle didn’t say another word as it crawled back up to its empty perch by the door, either. Its black eyes rolled back to stone.

The show was over, apparently. Ponies went back to their business on the street, helped along by the no-nonsense unicorn glaring at them from the stoop. Twilight had a fleeting thought of scattering along with them, but Strauss was pinning her to the spot now with his attention. He looked her over critically, eyes lingering on her gambeson and sword.

“You must be Twilight Sparkle,” he said. “Master Sol Shard mentioned you might arrive sometime this week.” Strauss sighed, but he did extend his hoof out to her. Warily, Twilight shook it. It seemed like the polite thing to do. Strauss dropped her hoof as soon as it was socially acceptable to do so and nodded to the open door. “Come in.” Feeling more than a little whiplash from the different receptions, Twilight stumbled along after the stallion.

The sudden shift from the streets of Las Pegasus to the inside of the chantry was disorienting. The light was so soft inside that Twilight couldn’t even see for a few moments, but when her eyes adjusted all she saw was pure opulence around her. Crystal chandeliers, velvet-covered furniture, thick velour curtains - it was like walking into the Royal Palace in Canterlot (or so Twilight imagined).

Other ponies were walking around as well. Most in the same black magister robes that Strauss was in, but there were three pegasi in armor not dissimilar to Twilight’s sitting in a lounge area off to the side of the foyer. Twilight caught the attention of one of them, and they alerted their companions, so now all three were staring at her and whispering. More than a few glances were sent at her horn and lack of wings, along with some smirks.

“I thought this was the magisterium headquarters,” Twilight asked. Strauss glanced at her, then at the pegasi she was looking at.

“It is, but we work hoof-in-hoof with the Royal Scouts during monster eradication missions. A small five-member flight has made itself available to us, along with their apprentices.” The stallion’s tone made it clear what he thought about that. “They have the first floor to themselves. If you wish to have your… shirt replaced, speak to them later. Goddess only knows what the bits we make available to them go toward.”

Strauss stopped at the stairs leading up. They were massive, sweeping things with a mid-floor landing that transitioned into a switchback that blocked any view of the higher floors. “Take a look at this stairway,” Strauss said, sweeping his foreleg at the first few steps, “because this is the only view you will have unless invited up by a magister, and even then they must consult myself for permission. Delicate magical experiments and spells are being performed on the next few floors and I won’t have laymen interfering with our magisters.”

Laymen? The word made Twilight’s cheeks heat up, but she couldn’t deny that she was very badly out of her magical depth.

But she didn’t come here to be insulted.

“Get Sunburst,” Twilight demanded. Strauss gave her a look, but she didn’t care. “I won’t go upstairs, but I want to talk to him. Or Trixie. Either one.”

“You’re not in a position to order ponies around, Miss Sparkle. You’re here because The Master of the High Spire considered it a favor for me to open my chantry to you.” Strauss’s eyes narrowed. He was looking at her the same way he’d looked at the gargoyle. “That invitation can be revoked. In fact-”

“Twilight?”

Both unicorns turned to look up the stairs. Sunburst was staring down at them, confusion and pleasant surprise written on his face. “I wasn’t expecting you to get out of the hospital for a few more days.” He stepped down the stairs, putting himself just wedged enough that it was only police for Twilight and Strauss to step away from each other. “How did you get here?”

Relief washed over Twilight; she felt anchored again, just seeing someone she recognized. “I signed myself out and took a rickshaw. The puller knew right where to bring me when I asked him about magisters.” Blushing, she added, “He said he would, uh, bill you guys later. Because I don’t have any bits.”

Strauss frowned, but Sunburst waved off her concern. “That’s fine. It’s my fault for not keeping a closer watch on your recovery.” He nodded toward the stairs. “Come on up. I was going to get a room ready for you, but I thought I had a few more days. You can at least store your things there.”

“Sunburst,” Strauss cut in, “do you think it wise to let an uninitiated acolyte wander around the chantry?”

“She’s not an acolyte,” Sunburst cut in, before Twilight could. His smile was pleasant. “She’s a guard trainee we picked up from Fort Dressage and worked closely with us in the business outside of town.”

Some kind of byplay went on there, between Strauss and Sunburst, and Twilight didn’t need to be a social butterfly to see that Strauss was out-gunned. The other unicorn just managed to catch himself at the start of a sneer, but the narrowing of his eyes and the tightness of his lips let Twilight know what he thought about this whole thing.

“Miss Twilight will be under your care,” he said, but it sounded more like a threat before he abruptly popped out of existence. The sudden departure made Twilight jump, but Sunburst just let out a small huff of air that could have been a sigh of relief.

He turned back to Twilight with a wry expression. “Sorry that you had to deal with him for so long. I only felt your magic a moment ago, when things got heated. Strauss can be a bit difficult to ponies he thinks could disrupt the flow of his chantry.” Sunburst motioned to follow him up the stairs. “We’ll get you settled. No worries.”

The stairs creaked under their weight and Twilight’s heavy horseshoes scuffed the wood more than once on her way up. Sunburst hardly made a sound, though.

“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” Twilight asked. She smiled at the surprised look the stallion sent her. “You know where all the loose boards are on the stairs.”

“Clever. Yes, I have been here before. And I know these stairs very well, considering how many years I spent going up and down these very steps.”

That wasn’t the answer Twilight expected. “You grew up here? In Las Pegasus?”

Sunburst scoffed at some mental joke and shook his head. “Can you imagine growing up here? No, I simply came here for my journeymanship. It’s the step a magister takes after finishing their apprenticeship.” he explained. “I’ve always had some interest in card tricks and hedge magic, so it seemed like an excellent fit. So, when I was offered a choice where to study I picked the chantry here. It’s where I met Trixie, as well.”

Twilight’s ears perked. “Trixie? She was here too?”

“Well, not the chantry. Not at first. We met after she jumped up onto the stage of a magician act I was watching one night. Said that she could put on a better show than what the magician was doing, and basically ran him off the stage with some magicked fireworks.” Sunburst laughed at the memory, and Twilight smiled as well. That sounded exactly like something Trixie would do. “When security managed to drag her off the stage, I was waiting for her outside. She took her aptitude test here at the chantry, and that was that.”

Something tickled the back of Twilight’s mind and an odd memory clicked into place. “She wasn’t wearing some kind of silly magician hat and cape when she jumped up on stage, was she?”

“Well isn’t that something? I didn’t think she would tell you the story! She always gets embarrassed when I bring it up.”

“I just saw the hat and cape in her travel trunk.” That she made me lug around. “But… aren’t we all around the same age? Can you take an apprentice that young?”

“I’m flattered you think I’m as young as you are!” Sunburst laughed. “I’m well into my twenties, but unless I’ve missed my mark you’re still in your teens?” Twilight nodded, suddenly a bit bashful. Sunburst certainly didn’t look much older.

But, then again, the stallion did have a stately air around him. His little wisp of beard made him seem a bit more dignified, like a wise old goat from a storybook, and the glasses tied it all together. And when he wanted to explain something, he got a look in his eye. The beginnings of a twinkle.

“Trixie is only a year younger than I am, but she’s a very special case.”

“Like… what you guys do with candidates who go into the military late in life?” Twilight wondered. If she had taken Feldspar’s offer, she would have started the Magisterium now, at seventeen. That seemed old for some kind of magical school, didn’t it?

Maybe I would have fit in after all, Twilight thought, unbidden. If there were ponies in the same situation as her, starting later in life, then… then…

Twilight hadn’t noticed she’d stopped until Sunburst walked back up to her. The twinkle was gone, now replaced by concern. “Are you alright? You stopped for a moment.”

“Sorry. It’s… it’s just a thing. When I think too much. I get-”

“-wrapped up in the thought? Oh, there’s no need to apologize. Not to me, at least. I can lose days when I start thinking and researching something. Trixie says I turn into a… what did she use to call it? A ‘great and bespeckled log’?” Sunburst snorted. “As though she doesn’t have any quirks. As if any magister doesn’t.”

He doesn’t think it’s weird. “R-Right. Just a quirk.” It’s not weird here. Twilight shook her head. She had to, to get the thoughts out. But they were still there, whispering to her. “Y-You were saying something about Trixie? About her being a special case?”

Sunburst blinked. “Oh. Right. Well, she was already fairly talented in illusionary magic when I ‘discovered’ her, even more so than her father, who is a bit of a local legend around here. I knew that she was a bit old for introductory training, but I explained her situation to Master Sol Shard and he agreed to let me try. And she took to it rather quickly, so she was more of a… junior research partner than my apprentice. She- Oh. We’re here. Your room.”

And they had been walking, hadn’t they? Twilight looked over her shoulder - rows of doors were behind her, all closed, and a thin slip of daylight shining at the far end of the hallway. In the beam of light Twilight could see a snowfall of dust coming from the wooden ceiling and walls; the building was ancient.

But when Sunburst opened the door fresh sunlight hit Twilight square in the face and it took her eyes a second to adjust. Instantly a whole of Las Pegasus was before her, right behind a massive bay window. It was a wonderful view; Twilight could even see the Sunset Medical Center way off in the distance.

“Sorry that there’s not much room, but you know Trixie. It was impossible to convince her to put all the trunks in storage.”

Twilight blinked and refocused back on the room. It was a double dorm. One bed on each side and there were three large trunks stacked on one of the beds. Trunks that Twilight instantly recognized as belonging to her missing partner.

A smile tugged at Twilight’s face, despite her bed being treated as nothing more than another shelf for Trixie’s storage. “It’s fine. I got used to her sharing a tent. At least there are a few feet between me and her sleep talking now.”

Sunburst chuckled, but his eyes went distant. “She can go on for hours if you don’t stop her,” he said, smiling in turn. “I can’t count the nights I had to cast a silencing charm on… her… oh.”

He realized what he’d said just a moment after Twilight, and he suddenly seemed more like a blushing teenager than the wizened apprentice of Sol Shard. “Ah, um. Not that we ever…!” Sunburst backpedaled. “We just… for the Magisterium, you understand, we had to share a lot of accommodations-!”

The stallion’s mouth finally clicked closed, face burning. “I… I’m just going to… go. YoushouldcheckinwithMasterSolShard!” he stammered as he nearly ran out the door.

Twilight hollowly chuckled in the empty room. She looked around and threw her rucksack on her bed, next to one of Trixie’s trunks. Why did he get so embarrassed? They were adults. Adults did… things. All sorts of things. “Don’t know why he thought I cared,” Twilight reasoned out loud as she roughly pushed Trixie’s trunk on the floor. It hit with a loud thud that shook the ancient wooden floor.

“Because I don’t care.” The trunk thudded again as Twilight pushed it against the far wall. This time it felt like the walls shuddered. “Why would I care?

She didn’t. Trixie could do what she wanted, with whomever she wanted. She was apparently this adult, mature unicorn who had better things to do than visit Twilight’s hospital room, or even send a letter. Turned out she was just another boring adult. That was fine. It was all fine. Everything was f i n e.

Twilight’s eyes turned sly. Oh, everything was just fine because she had something much better to do right now.

Quickly, Twilight shut the door to the little room and tugged the curtains closed. They were thick things of black canvas, so the room was almost pitch black now. She waited, silently, not even breathing, and listened right at the door. No sounds. Good.

She levitated off her saddlebags and set them on the bed. Her sword she propped up in one corner. As interesting as the blade was, and as much as she missed its weight already, Twilight was focused on just one thing and one thing only.

Twilight drew out the book. The leather-bound spellbook she had plucked from the Necromancer’s lair. Even now, just holding the thing in her magic, the feel of it made Twilight’s skin crawl. Monsters used leather for armor, but never ponies. It was a banned substance in Equestria, outside of some museum pieces, even though it was a very desirable material for armor. Griffons used it to great effect years ago, during the last war between Equestria and Griffonstone. Minotaurus used it too, despite how familiarly close they were to the cattlefolk that provided most of it.

Though, for a book... leather-bound books were the things of evil wizards or necromancers in stories. Evil tomes that kept their wicked spells safe and sound until the hero could miraculously throw it into a fire and save the day.

But I have one right here. Twilight couldn’t stop shivering. A lifetime of spells at her disposal. Spellbooks were jealously guarded by any mage, and Twilight hadn’t caught even a glimpse of Trixie’s after days of traveling with her. Twilight doubted that the mare would even travel with it. It was the summary of years of magical dedication. A place to put magical spells, which Twilight now knew were magical rune wheels, that a mage could quickly reference.

One last check at the door and the windows. Then, not even daring to light her horn more than a glow, Twilight lifted the front cover. Squiggly characters started from the very first page, filling everything, including the margins. In fact, page after page was full from top to bottom, over and again. Twilight told herself that she would crack whatever code the necromancer was using later; what she wanted were the spell circles! Circles that would give her an edge getting into the Royal Guard, as a trained unicorn with a spellbook!

But as she flipped and flipped, her enthusiasm was replaced by something else - Dread.

Where were the circles?

Twilight’s mouth went dry. She flipped a page. Then another. Then another. Then she flipped a chunk of pages all at once, scanning each one as they flew by. There was only text. Walls and walls of text, written in the same gibberish. From front to cover.

But no circles.

I saw them! Twilight furiously thought, flipping back to the front and rapidly cycling the book again. She knew she had seen them, down in the lair! Dozens of circles! Dozens of spells!

All gone. There was nothing but front-to-cover gibberish. The book slipped from Twilight’s grip and she sat down hard on her rump. All the spells she could ever want or need. Her chance to impress the Royal Guard judges at the end of her training.

My only chance to pretend I hatched that stupid dragon egg.

It was the last thought that made Twilight’s nose flair. Her eyes fell on the book. The stupid, bespelled book! It had been a trick! She had taken it… almost gotten them all killed…

Her magic flared red. Hot. Scorching. This book. This thing! The smell of burning leather filled the room as Twilight near-instantly compressed the cursed thing into a ball of jittering fire the size of a marble. It hung in the air like a tiny star, spitting little globs of burning ash as it was crushed by enough magical force to flatten a cottage.

Twilight was huffing, but she didn’t feel tired. She felt… exhilarated. Her disappointment was already bleeding away into a pleasant adrenaline high, not unlike the one she always got after a heavy power lift. And it was comforting just to watch the stupid little thing get turned into so much slag. It made Twilight feel like she’d taken something back from it, for all that disappointment.

It made her feel powerful.

Slowly, Twilight eased up on her magic. The ball expanded in a grand pop! that was so loud Twilight felt the air around it displace against her coat. A thousand little sparks showered down around her, but they burned to cinders before anything caught fire. Darkness descended again on the room and left Twilight with nothing but a fleeting feeling of empowerment and nothing to show for nearly getting herself and three other ponies killed.

Her hoof scraped against the soot on the floor. She was going to have to clean this up before Trixie came back.

But as Twilight started to get back to her feet, she felt her cropped mane start to shift. And then her tail. Like they were being blown by a breeze.

Then she felt the soot on her hoof start to move.

Quickly, Twilight jumped up, horn flaring. In the dim light, she saw all the soot on the floor start to slither, rolling into clumps both big and small. She lifted her head, angling her light at the far side of the room where it was all gathering up into… something. A writhing, pulsing something that seemed to shy away from Twilight’s light.

“Mistress, please! The light!” The pathetic little voice was whimpering from the soot. It was pushed back against the thick window curtains, trying to get away. “Turn off your light, Mistress!”

Twilight stomped her hooves, supremely agitated. Was this… was this some kind of feature of the chantry? But no, it had come from the ashes of the book! Twilight had no idea what the creature could be, or what manner of magic gave birth to it, but she set her jaw.

“Tell me right now why I shouldn’t throw open that curtain!” The thing wailed as if she’d already done it. It wasn’t loud, thank Celestia, but the high-pitched noise made her ears twitch. “What are you?!”

A small, clawed hand reached out from the soot and grabbed a tiny fistful of curtain to wrap around itself. “A quasit, Mistress! A humble quasit!”

Twilight had zero idea what a ‘quasit’ could be, but the thing had answered her. Warily, carefully, she dimmed her horn. “If you try anything, I will crush you into nothing. Do you understand?”

Two bright, yellow eyes stared back at her. The thing was only about half as tall as Twilight’s foreleg, but it slowly crept forward, hunched over and cringing. Whenever Twilight's horn would move, the thing’s little head would find cover behind one of its long, willow-like arms. It seemed to be bipedal, like a minotaur, but Twilight also saw that it could jitter forward using all four limbs, with its long, rat-like tail to keep balance.

“That’s close enough,” Twilight warned when it was a few feet away. Her light increased in intensity a bit, showing the full creature. It was green, she noticed, with little horns and barbs all over its skin.

“Yes, Mistress. Powerful Mistress.” Its mouth was also full of needle-like teeth. Dozens, maybe even hundreds of them. “Please, no brighter!” it begged as Twilight took a step forward. A wing - a white, dove-like wing - folded around the quasit to shield it. “I am not used to the light, Mistress!”

Twilight stopped, but she didn’t dim her horn. “I’m not your ‘mistress’. Where did you come from? What do you want? Are you part of the chantry guard, like the gargoyle?” Oh, but if it was… if it had seen the book…

“I am here because you freed me, Mistress!” it cried, yellow eyes peeking out from behind its wing. “Because you destroyed one of 【Ｈｉｓ】tools!”

Twilight shook her head. “What… what did you say? What language is that?” Something pressed in her mind like a headache when the little thing had spoken, but Twilight had understood all of it. It was speaking common Ponish. But her head was throbbing!

But she wasn’t so far gone as to not catch the quick little movement stalking toward her. Twilight’s horn flared and the quasit screeched as the light hit it. The little beast leaped back from her. “What did you try and do!?” Her magic grabbed the curtain and shook it, causing the thing to skitter under the bed with a wail. “You want me to turn you back into ash?! Get back out here or I swear to Celestia I’ll blow a hole in the roof! Then you’ll get all the light you can take!”

“Mistress no!” it cried. “I submit! Please! I submit!”

“Then get back out here and sit still, or else!”

Slowly the pitiful thing crawled back out into the center of the room. It was shivering so much that Twilight almost felt sorry for it - until it opened its mouth and she saw all the teeth again.

No, it would stay far away from her. “So you came from the book. Or you were the book.” Did that even make sense? “Were you the book?”

The quasit raised its eyes as high as it dared, which was only Twilight’s chest. “I am a part of my 【Ｍａｓｔｅｒ】. A part of 【Ｈｉｓ】 knowledge, given as part of a bargain. I-I am sure to be rewarded. The deal was broken fairly before the fulfillment of the contract! That is good for me!”

Again, the strange words in the quasit’s speech hit Twilight, but she was mentally prepared for them this time. It wasn’t Ponish. She was sure of it. But the meaning was clear to her, all the same. Like her mind instinctively knew what the strange barking sound was in the middle of a sea of proper Ponish.

Twilight caught the intent stare of the quasit and smirked. It wouldn’t get another chance to ambush her this time. This thing, whatever it was, wasn’t nearly as cowed as it wanted her to believe.

“So you were… given to the necromancer? Why?”

“Because that was what she bargained for. Knowledge of beasts and spells. Dark magic.” The quasit’s thin little claw tapped its head. “All put here, by my 【Ｍａｓｔｅｒ】. So 【Ｈｅ】could watch.”

Twilight felt a cold line of sweat trail down her neck. So he could watch. “Is he watching now?”

The little head bobbed up and down.

“Can… he hear us?”

Another bob.

She reached for her magical reserves.

The little quasit wasn’t shivering anymore.

“Where is he?”

A touch on her shoulder. The slightest scrape of a claw on her neck. Twilight’s mind wasn’t fast enough to fight the instinct not to turn. Not quick enough by far.

The quasit was behind her. On her back. Mouth open in a maw stretched open wider than she was tall. Thousands of teeth descending like a rain of daggers.

Inside its mouth - Abyss.

Twilight Sparkle - Falling.

【Ａｎｄ　ｎｏｗ，　ｈｅｒｅ　ｙｏｕ　ａｒｅ．　Ｗｉｔｈ　ｍｅ．】

Author's Note

I forgot the DnD link!

Your friendly, neighborhood Quasit!

Chapter 17

Sol Shard looked around the table. His student - former student, he had to remind himself - was at his right. Sunburst was looking much better, thank the sun, than when he’d first seen the young stallion in the hospital. His cast had come off with a little help from the chantry’s healing magic, even if Sunburst privately confided he was still sore.

Next to him was the no-nonsense Serine Strauss, the nominal head of the Las Pegasus chantry, looking dour as usual. Sol Shard didn’t mind the unicorn’s attitude like he knew Sunburst did, and Sol Shard could even empathize with the magister. This was his chantry that had been taken over by Canterlot magisters, pegasi scouts, and one very onerous guard trainee.

Sol Shard resolved to make it up to the other magister somehow.

But it would have to be later. His eyes slid even further down the table. Magical projections of his fellow council members were mostly all present, taking the time to catch up as most of them were flung around the country - Master Flawless Prize was talking in low tones to Velvet Chaser, but Sol Shard distinctly heard them talking about meeting up next time Chaser was back in Canterlot (as if their dalliance wasn’t the most open secret in the magisterium); Solar Comet was quietly reading a book in his seat; Ivy Spice was talking to someone out of the range of the Crystal Empire transmitter, her words magically distorted; Dewdrop, Long Whistle, and Jade Jester were in a little clutch on the other side of the table, talking animatedly about some new magical theory, all in the same projection because they happened to be in Canterlot.

And the last one, at the end of the table, facing Sol Shard, was the 12th Master Magister - Feldspar. The “stallion” with a secret only he knew on this council.

It’s about time to get this started, Sol Shard thought. He cleared his throat and all the little side conversations faded. Although they were all technically on the same footing, Sol Shard was the first among equals. The overseer of the Magisterium, a position he’d held for nearly a century now. He’d built this organization from the ground up; even trained a few of the unicorns now giving him their attention.

“Thank you all for making time for this meeting,” he started. “I know this isn’t our usual schedule, but events here in Las Pegasus have made it necessary to share some information.”

Ivy Spice learned forward. “You mean your little monster hunt vacation turned into something serious?” Her eyes glittered and Sol Shard had to remember that when he was twenty years young he too found adventure something to jump at and the youngest master hadn’t gotten it all out of her system yet. “Are you asking for volunteers to come help? Because I volunteer! Baltimare isso boring.”

Sol Shard snorted. “Nothing Master Strauss will not be able to help with, I’m sure,” he said, dipping his head to the chantry’s master. “Simply a necromancer. Though, granted, one of some talent. They created a helmed horror.”

That went around the table like wildfire. Eyebrows ticked up on the most stoic of the unicorns and the others immediately fell into quick whispers. Sol Shard let them talk for a moment; a helmed horror was something far out of the reach of the typical black magic user crawling around Equestria. The last time a necromancer of that kind of talent had been sniffed out had been over forty years ago before some of the masters were even born.

But eventually, the old unicorn tapped his hoof against the table and brought them all to heel. “As I said, nothing to be too excited about. The horror was dealt with by Sunburst and his former apprentice.”

“‘Nothing to be excited about’, you say?” Eyes went to Solar Comet. He was an old stallion, nearly approaching Sol Shard’s years, and the second-longest serving member of the Master Council.

And always, always willing to push the envelope if it could make Sol Shard look weak.

Even over the magical connection, Sol Shard could see the smirk on his old rival’s lips. “I’ve heard that your apprentice was nearly killed,” he said, nodding to Sunburst (who Solar fully knew wasn’t an apprentice anymore, but a full master). “One of our top battlemages, Ivory Tower, also lost his leg to the demon, didn’t he? I’ve heard that the entire expedition was nearly a complete failure… if not for an outsider.”

Eyes went back to Sol Shard and he mentally cursed whatever little spy Solar Comet had in the Las Pegasus chantry. If Sol Shard ever got his hooves on whoever it was....!

“Hardly an ‘outsider’, Master Comet,” Feldspar interjected. His smiling face radiated calm. “I believe the master council remembers the unicorn I brought up several weeks ago? Twilight Sparkle?” One or two nods and mumbling, but Feldspar continued as if everyone had agreed. “If you need a refresher, it was the unicorn that passed all seven of the training rings installed at the Military Port of Entrance in Canterlot. The one that turned down my offer of a position in the Magisterium.”

“The one I said we needed to watch,” Solar Comet grumbled. “The one that seemed too dangerous to just let loose on Equestria with no oversight.”

“Just the one,” Feldspar said. “I recommended her to Master Sunburst as an auxiliary. Just to show her what she was missing in the Magisterium. I never expected her to end up like she did, though.”

Sunburst laughed. He glanced at Sol Shard and received a nod to talk. “You and I both, Master Feldspar. Twilight Sparkle has incredible magical potential, probably the greatest I’ve seen outside of Sunset Shimmer. Maybe even greater raw power.”

Across the table, Flawless Prize sputtered. “Surely not?” he said, looking around at the other masters. “I trained Sunset Shimmer for a few semesters of her education, and I can honestly say that outside of Princess Celestia she is the most gifted unicorn in Equestria. And you two are saying that this… this… Twilight Sparkle can rival her?”

“Is it that unbelievable?” Sunburst countered. “According to Master Feldspar, she could cast inside of the seven dampening rings in Canterlot. No pony has been able to do that since they were installed.”

“I assumed they were malfunctioning,” Flawless mumbled.

“They weren’t. We had technicians check and double-check them,” Feldspar said. “Princess Celestia herself went to the Port of Entrance to test them. They are working just fine.”

Solar Comet’s hoof came down on the table. “She’s powerful. We’ve established that,” he growled. “But what are we going to do about her? We can not let her wander Equestria, doing Celestia-knows-what. She must either join the Magisterium or be magically gelded.”

Gasps erupted, and for very good reason. Magical gelding was the harshest punishment that the Magisterium could impose. For any unicorn, from a master in the magical arts to a simple shop worker, losing their horn was a nightmare. It couldn’t compare to losing a leg or losing an eye or an ear. It was losing the most fundamental part of being a unicorn.

Cut from magic completely, the horn cropped right off at the skull. It was terrifying for any unicorn to even think about.

“That’s too far!” Dewdrop erupted, with Ivy Spice and Long Whistle rising out of their chairs with her. “Master Comet, you are too quick to jump to the most severe of punishments! This unicorn’s only crime is existing!” She turned a furious look on Sol Shard. “I will not vote for this!”

Sol Shard held up his hooves. “I’m not suggesting to magically geld her at all,” he said. But, he also sent a look at Solar Comet and Flawless Prize. “And I am not saying she should be left to her own devices.”

Comet snorted. “This isn’t a television drama, Sol Shard. We are talking about the safety of Equestria. If there is even a chance that this Twilight Sparkle could tip the scales before our problem next spring we have to pull it up at the root.” He glared at Dewdrop and her section before slumping back into his chair. “Or cut it off at the root, as the case should be.”

Whispers all around. Dewdrop was furious, as were Spice and Whistle, but the other Masters were talking to each other in low tones.

Sol Shard would be lying if he ever said he didn’t consider it the first time he heard of Twilight Sparkle. The unicorn was an enigma, coming from a family of piddling magical abilities. Shining Armor had been considered by the Magisterium as being the shining star of House Sparkle and the sister was just a footnote. Literally, in her case - Twilight Sparkle. Sister. Failed Celestia School applicant. Sol Shard had read the report himself.

But. But. She was so very powerful. More powerful than Sol Shard had been in his prime. More than any of the High Spire’s Masters, if he had to guess. Enormous talent.

To cut that talent off before it could even begin to bloom… well, it was frankly too much of a waste.

Feldspar caught Sol’s eye as the debate raged on around the table. The stallion looked attentive, as he always did during the meetings, but the High Magister could read the little messages on his face - Celestia’s face.

It was time.

He closed his eyes just in time to avoid the blinding flash of Celestia’s personal long-distance magical communication. Unlike the rest of the Magisterium, the princess didn’t need to use a messenger crystal, but the effects of her magic were much more disruptive. Ponies gasped, chairs rattled as some masters leaped up to defend themselves, but just as soon as the light cleared nearly everyone was bowing.

Celestia’s horn extinguished. She looked out over the table and smiled.

Even though Sol Shard knew that it was just a projection, Celestia’s magic filled him with a familiar warmth that he had once jealousy coveted. The casual use of power that others could only dream of… it was heady, and Sol Shard wagered Celestia made her spell as flashy as possible for just that reason.

There was a dance to her interactions with the Master Council, and she began her script. “There is no need to bow, my little ponies,” Celestia said, her voice melodic and her slight chuckle like the chiming of a holiday bell. “I am the one intruding on all of you, after all.”

“Please, Princess. You can never intrude in what you own,” Sol Shard said, falling into his role as well.

Celestia gave him a warm smile. “I’ve been told in the past I’m very good at intruding, though,” she said, walking around the table, greeting each master by time. Even Feldspar, her own magical construct. How she did that was something not even Sol Shard could imagine.

She took her place in front of the little attic windows. She sat, as regally as possible without a throne, and all the chairs turned to her. “You must all forgive me,” she said, “but I have been eavesdropping on Master Feldspar’s connection. I had intended to ‘wait my turn’, so to speak, but when talk began of magical gelding I felt I needed to step in.”

Solar Comet's posture stiffened. “Princess, I was only suggesting that because this is an extraordinary circumstance,” he said, squirming. Sol Shard would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy watching it.

Celestia’s beatific smile cut through all the growing tension. “Of course, Master Comet. You have been one of the most far-seeing, proactive voices for safeguarding Equestria on this council for most of its existence, and I hope you will continue to be a voice of pragmatism. I would in no way wish to give you the idea I am censoring you. Twilight Sparkle is, indeed, a very special case.”

Dewdrop opened her mouth - respectfully, now - but Celestia silenced her with a shake of her head and a motherly smile. “And I am certainly not suggesting we take the magic from someone who has provided so much aid to the Magisterium. I understand that Twilight Sparkle dispatched the helmed horror herself, with some help from Magister Lulamoon and Master Sunburst.”

Sol saw his former student blush. “I-it was mostly Twilight and Trixie, Princess.”

“I’m sure it was, my humble pony. But it was still very brave of all of you. Helmed horrors were among the most dangerous of the servants of darkness I once faced.” Celestia’s lips dipped into a frown. “To hear that one was summoned close to a city such as Las Pegasus is troubling, which is why I shall charge the investigation to Master Sol Shard. I feel that this will require the full attention of the Magisterium.”

Silence. For Celestia to personally comment on a threat was… not something Sol Shard had discussed with her before the meeting, when they ironed out how it was supposed to go. But then, they hadn’t been able to talk much of what Sunburst had found in that lair…

Time enough for that later, Sol thought. Some up-jumped necromancer or dark summoner was something the Magisterium had gotten very good at dealing with. Strauss could take care of it. He’d probably appreciate a chance to test his anti-magic golems in a real situation as well.

There were bigger fish to fry right now.

Comet knew it as well. He wasn’t going to be distracted by talk of the investigation. “I’m sure we owe them all a debt,” he said, voice testing the waters. “But princess - Twilight Sparkle is still an issue. An unknown. From what I know of her, she has no interest in joining the Magisterium.”

“Which is likely my fault,” Feldspar pipped. Eyes went to him, some surprised that he had spoken up a second time, which for him was unusual, and not about his duties at the castle. “My sales pitch wasn’t exactly the best, and I fear I have soured her on ever becoming an acolyte. Apologies, Princess.”

Celestia chuckled. Whether it was because that was expected or because she had technically just apologized to herself, Sol Shard didn’t know. “There is more than enough fault to go around. Princess Cadance informed me of Twilight Sparkle’s existence years ago, but I never bothered to look into it. There. Now we’re all on the same footing.”

And now the Master Council was aware of Twilight Sparkle, and her background. Just like Celestia and Sol Shard had planned. The princess caught his eye as the other masters absorbed the admission.

Time to start your final act, old stallion.

“And that brings me to what I was going to suggest earlier, everyone,” Sol called out. Heads swiveled back to him. “All of us are aware of Sunset Shimmer's destiny, what she will face next Summer Solstice, and what she will become after that. I feel there is an opportunity there, when the Princess's attention isn't so focused.”

Flawless Prize coughed, but it sounded more like a gag. “S-Should we be discussing this in such an open place?” he asked, eyes darting around until they landed back on Celestia. “Not that I’m implying that anything escaped your notice, Princess! Not at all! T-this is just the first I’ve heard of… you know what outside the Spire.”

“Your prudence is well placed, Master Prize, but things are accelerating,” Celestia admitted. She closed her eyes and everything stilled once again. This was the big step; the big moment. Although the Magisterium normally served the crown, the unicorns in this room were the most powerful beings in Equestria. Politics and jockeying infected every inch of the Master Council.

But Celestia had faced worse in her lifetime, Sol Shard knew. A room full of sycophants was nothing to her.

“I will take Twilight Sparkle as my new personal student, after the Summer Sun Celebration.”

Even the princess’s presence couldn’t stop the immediate crush of questions, but Sol Shard noticed the dejection on Ivy Spice’s face. She had been not-so-subtly asking if Celestia would consider a new apprentice after Sunset fulfilled her destiny and this was her answer.

You are better off, Sol Shard mentally told the young mare. Celestia’s attention was like a sunbeam through a magnifying glass - incredible and awe-inspiring at first, but then you feel the scorching.

Celestia eventually had to hold up a hoof to stop the barrage of questions. “I realize that this has caught all of you by surprise, but this is an extraordinary case. Twilight Sparkle is too powerful to be left to her own devices. Even if she never harmed another pony in her life, the sheer waste of her talent would be a loss to Equestria as a whole. And Princess Cadance asked it as a personal favor.”

Long Whistle crossed her front legs. She was good friends with Ivy Spice, Sol Shard knew. “She has some lofty friends, doesn’t she? Who is this pony? What family is she from?”

“She is a daughter of the Canterlot Sparkles,” Sunburst answered. “Minor nobility, but her brother is all but Princess Cadence's fiancée. Some of us remember Shining Armor, I’m sure. He was one of the final candidates three years ago for admittance.”

For the first time, Strauss leaned forward. “And we rejected him because he was a military pony. The mindset, that is. How does his sister compare to that?”

“I can answer,” Feldspar said. “She is fanatically devoted to the crown. She wants nothing more than to join the Royal Guard and serve Princess Celestia in person. She might even be a member of the Church of the Dawn, but that hasn’t been confirmed. Iron Cross is still looking into her school records.”

Solar Comet threw up his hooves. “The ‘Church’ of the Dawn! A fanatic. A horse with religious blinders on her eyes. A weapon to be pointed at things until it blows up in our own faces.” He shook his head. “The decision is yours, Princess, but I think she is a major risk.”

“I agree.”

The others were surprised, but none more so than Solar Comet when Sol Shard added his voice to the (planned) opposition. “You do?” Comet asked, suspicion dripping from every syllable.

Sol Shard looked straight at Celestia. The small frown tugging at her lips; her eyes, slightly narrowed. It was beautiful. It was a wonderful bit of acting.

Were you always acting?

But he had a part to play as well. “I do. I doubt Twilight Sparkle will ever willingly turn her magic against Equestria, given her personality, but such rigid thinking can be twisted. She needs a Magisterium education to properly use the tools your tutelage will give her, Princess. To think critically, to apply her magic in helpful ways, and to follow basic magic scholarship.”

“What are you suggesting?” Celestia asked.

“That you offer her something she can’t refuse. A chance to be your confidant, after her stint as your student is through, and her military days are behind her. A chance to stand next to you for the rest of her life, even after she graduates from being your student.” Sol Shard looked around the table. Most everyone was confused, but he saw the gears turning behind Solar Comet’s eyes. And Sunburst’s.

Well, time to make it official.

“I will train her after you, Princess… to eventually take my place as the High Magister and your number one magical advisor.”

There was no outburst like the one that had followed Celestia’s announcement. No shouting, no questions. Just stunned silence from every single master.

And all of them were looking straight at one pony - Sunburst.

It was easy to understand why. As his personal student, Sunburst had always been the anticipated next-in-line to be High Magister. His knowledge was encyclopedic and his papers and presentations had advanced entire fields of magic, even back when he was just an apprentice.

But all also knew of his glaring weakness - he had no actual spellcasting ability past the average unicorn. He was crippled in that way, forever leaching power off of others when needed to cast spells he himself had created.

“It shouldn’t be a big shock,” Sunburst chuckled. “Many of our new apprentices can out-cast me.”

Eyes guiltily slid away. It had always been the biggest elephant in the room when it came to his presumed spot as the next High Magister, although Sol Shard had no doubt he would have the votes of the majority of the Master Council should something unforeseen happen. Sunburst was friends with many of the other masters, both young and old, and had collaborated with them on projects.

He pushed his glasses up his nose. “From what I’ve seen of Twilight Sparkle, I think she already has the qualities to be an excellent High Magister. I don’t doubt she can be stubborn, or obsessive about the Princess, but I never saw either when I was working with her. Instead, I saw a pony who bravely faced down a helmed horror to save a life. I saw a pony with a thirst for magical education, who in a few days did what many of our younger apprentices struggle with for months. I can guarantee that she will absorb her lessons in record time, and if Master Sol Shard says she could be a good replacement for him… well, I’ll be the first Master to cast a passing vote.”

Sol Shard felt a burst of pride in the stallion. That had been completely unbidden. They had spoken about Sunburst’s future in the past, of course, but the maturity of his former apprentice… it was a little bit humbling, even to an old goat like him.

And the effect on the rest of the Master Council - every pony was nodding along with him. Even Comet was quiet. Sol Shard caught Celestia’s eye and nodded. Their little play had gone off without a hitch.

That was the cue for the princess to clear her throat. “That was quite the full-throated show of support, Sunburst. It was very well said.” The stallion blushed as many of the others nodded along with Celestia. “With that, I think that we can, for now, put this matter aside. Twilight Sparkle will be allowed to continue her training at Fort Dressage and kept out of the way until after the Summer Sun Celebration so that Sunset Shimmer does not have any distractions.”

Nods all around. Celestia nodded once herself, closing the matter. “It is decided, then. Master Comet, I will ask that you keep tabs on Twilight Sparkle until I am ready for her. Do you agree?”

“Of course, Princess.”

“And Sol Shard, she will be allowed to stay in Las Pegasus for a few more days, to get a better understanding of the chantry and the Magisterium?”

“I believe she returns to Fort Dressage on Monday, which gives her nearly a week. She’s rather close to Magister Lulamoon, so I had them roomed together. However Lulamoon is teaching her, it is seemingly working. I wish to foster that partnership as much as possible.”

Solar Comet cleared his throat like an old goat. The stallion seemed to have regained his mental footing, now that Celestia had given him a specific task. “I have a concern,” he said. “Is Lulamoon really the best magister to instruct a future High Magister? That one already has a major mark against her for unauthorized magic usage.”

Sunburst was on his feet in a flash. “She has grown past that!” he forcefully countered. “It was years ago and she was properly censured for it by the Master’s Council! She was set back an entire year in her apprenticeship!”

Comet didn’t relent. He stared down Sunburst’s outrage with measured disinterest. “Your point? She still was found guilty of stealing artifacts from a declared historical site. Princess, I suggest that we give Twilight Sparkle over to Master Strauss as long as she’s here. He can show her how a chantry works, and what goes on here. That is sure to interest her more than anything a first-ring magister could offer.”

Sunburst clenched his teeth, but a flutter of feathers forestalled his arguments. Eyes turned back to the goddess in the room, who had outstretched one of her great wings. The long, graceful pinyon fluttered out over the table, pointing straight at Solar Comet.

To the magister’s credit, he didn’t quail much.

“There is little point in arguing this now,” Celestia said, voice calm, yet expectant that she would have the last word. “I understand that my future student and Magister Lulamoon have already grown close. Magister Lulamoon is her only tie to the Magisterium and I shall need to leverage it when I ask Twilight Sparkle to give up the Royal Guard. If there are any so-called ‘bad habits’ to be ironed out later, then so be it.”

The building tension drained out of the room. Sunburst let out a huff of air and slumped back into his chair as if he’d just fought a battle; Solar Comet looked contrite, but he wouldn’t push the argument again.

Celestia looked around the table with a smile, as if she hadn’t just pulled the ultimate rank card. “Is there any other business? It is unnecessary for me to order the Master Council to silence on this matter, I assume? I have a particular way of training my students, after all.”

“I believe that is it, Princess,” Sol Shard concluded. “I shall hunt this necromancer to ground here in Las Pegasus and keep Twilight Sparkle as far from the investigation as possible until she returns to Fort Dressage.” He eyed the sullen master down from him. “Perhaps with the chantry’s help?”

Strauss tapped his chin. “We can keep both her and Lulamoon suitably occupied,” he said, looking neither pleased nor put out.

Celestia stood. Even though she was just a magical projection, the other masters rushed to follow her out of protical. “Then I shall leave this matter to Master Strauss and you, Sol Shard. If you require aid with the necromancer-”

“I think I’ll manage, Princess,” Sol Shard cut in, drolly. He saw Celestia’s teasing smile as she nodded back at him.

“As you say, Master Sol Shard. Keep me abreast.”

The old stallion didn’t even get a word in edgewise as Celestia’s magic unwound itself with a flash of light so bright it made the masters flinch away. “Always has to make an exit,” he muttered.

He did send ‘Feldspar’ a glare for good measure, though.

“Bunch of absolute drivel,” Solar Comet grumbled, not being circumspect at all. It was riding the very line of propriety, but the old master was good at that. “A ticking time bomb and our only job is to mitigate the eventual explosion. Laud it, even. Call it master.”

He stormed around the table faster than Sol Shard had thought his old ‘friend’ capable, only stopping when he was nearly snout-to-snout with the nominal Magisterium head. “I don’t know why you are willing to stick your old neck out so much for this unicorn,” he snarled, “but it will be on your head when everything goes sideways. And it will.”

With that proclamation, Solar Comet vanished with a pop as he canceled his projection spell. Across the table, Flawless Prize and Velvet Chaser said something to each other in a low tone and vanished as well.

Sol Shard would bet his entire savings that the three were already conferencing.

“Well that was absolutely bracing,” Sunburst said. Unlike the others, he was flesh and bone. As the other masters all vanished he stepped in close. “A new royal student and a new High Magister, all in one meeting. I can’t remember the last time we had such excitement. The masters are sure to want to try and get a glimpse of Twilight now.”

“And there’s no helping it,” Sol Shard agreed. Some of the masters were very young, all things relative, and would likely serve for decades with Twilight. “I’m fairly sure they will not test the Princess’s orders too much.”

The other flesh and blood pony in the room, Serine Strauss, flicked his ears. “I’ll ensure that they don’t,” he said, probably for the sake of his chantry’s peace and quiet as much as following Celestia’s command.

Sunburst stepped up to him. “I wanted to thank you,” he said, looking so much like the little colt Sol Shard had nearly raised. “You didn’t have to go along with everything so easily or include Trixie as you did. I… I was too harsh with you this morning.”

Strauss studied him for a second, face blank. “If they must be here, I will get some use out of them,” he said. “Nothing more, nothing less. The Princess had already made up her mind. This was all a predetermined show.” His eyes went to Sol Shard. “Was it not?”

Sol Shard felt a real pang of surprise and it must have shown, because the chantry master actually smirked. Just a little one, but it was there. “Thought as much,” he said. The door to the meeting room opened with a flick of his horn, breaking the master-class seal placed on the entire top of the chantry. “Tomorrow, tell Lulamoon and the guard to report to Laboratory 5, in the basement, at first light. I will somehow spin a lesson on sealing magic as a chore, to keep them both out of the way.”

Sol Shard had to chuckle. “As you say, Master Strauss. But you must let me repay you with dinner.” He turned to his former student. “Both of you.”

Two agreements and the trio set off, hooves clapping on the hardwood floor.

And once they were well out of earshot, when the attic had gone silent and still, as if it had never borne witness to an event that would change Equestria, another set of hooves hesitantly left as well, leaving behind nothing but the fading glimmer of a powerful illusion spell dissipating in their wake.

Author's Note

I wonder how Twilight is doing...

Chapter 18

A twitch of the nose. A flicker of… something. A whisper at the edge of hearing.

Cerberus raised one head and sniffed deeply of his realm. Brimstone. Sulfur. The stench of the lower Abyss, bubbling up from below. Just a whiff. Just a taste. A tiny trill of a song he might have remembered centuries ago, but had lost the ear for it with his contented domestication.

Still. He remembered how to listen well enough.

These incursions had become more frequent in the last hundred years or so. Things below that wouldn’t have dared raise their heads were starting to stir again, deep in the Abyss. Things that had once ruled before Discord; before Celestia. Old things.

Things very close to beings like Cerberus, but ones that hadn’t taken a deal from a vengeful, living goddess when she had crusaded down to the depths of hell.

Things that, technically, he was supposed to be keeping an eye on. Those were the terms of his deal with Celestia. A devil always kept his deals, when fairly struck. And Tartarus was a nice realm to rule. In the Abyss, he never would have been able to scratch out a territory this large with so little effort. Ambient magics to feed him, prisoners to torment when he saw fit, and the ability to stymie his former rivals in the Abyss with a most potent ally at his back.

But that was such a long time ago, and the original deal didn’t have an end date. Hardly a fair bargain. Cerberus had done his duty, and done it well.

The devil’s heads slowly drifted back down. It was such a small thing, too. Not even a real test of the limits. Just enough Abyssal energy for something slight, like a portal. Hardly the first one he had noticed in the last few years. He had even done his proper duty and sent a missive to Celestia - one she hadn’t bothered following up on.

So that meant she didn’t care, right?

Cerberus let that thought sit for a moment. He tried it out, like someone would try on a new jacket. It didn’t raise his hackles to think such a thought and no lightning from the sky. That meant he hadn’t broken any terms of his agreement with Celesia, right?

Right. Correct. Perhaps I should send another message.Three thoughts, three heads, and two agreements to one disagreement. Decided, the devil closed his eyes. Celestia had decided she didn’t care, so neither would Cerberus.

And if Celestia found his logic lacking, then maybe she needed to be reminded of why you always had to read the fine print when it came to dealing with defeated Archdevils.

Defense in Depth: Chapter 18

Twilight woke in a box.

A dank, foul-smelling, humid box that had no light. Her first few breaths were labored and gasping as the unicorn’s brain began to slowly smolder again, but before Twilight fully recovered the fetid, sickly air pressed around her fully invaded her senses. It was overpowering. In her first moments of wakefulness, it was just one of many pressing instinctual concerns battering at Twilight’s mind, but after a few deep breaths, the stench of rotting, predated meat broke through all the other concerns.

It was a smell that tickled the very ends of Twilight’s primordial instincts. The fine hairs all across the unicorn’s body raised and she flailed her legs up because Twilight had woken on her back. But her hooves only scraped against an ungiving wall a few inches from the tip of her nose; the box she was in was only a few inches taller than she was. In a panic, Twilight tried to roll to either side, but she was packed tight, with no room on either side of her.

Something bit her leg - a sharp, stabbing pain - again and again and again as she frantically scraped her hooves, trying to get some purchase against the lid of the box. More bites, rapid in succession, went up and down Twilight’s body. She felt little legs and claws scratching and crawling all over her like running water.

When something crawled into her nose, Twilight’s mind finally snapped.

Her horn lit and for one terrible, mind-scarring second Twilight saw the mismatched, bleeding limbs and stacked pieces of bodies packed around her in the dank coffin. Then it was all washed away in a screen of white fire spilling out from her horn. It washed over her body, burning away the hundreds of corpse beetles gnawing at her flesh, and blasted the coffin to cinders. The soil above of her groaned and shuddered as the tons of soil pressed back against her power, but Twilight was irresistible.

A dozen feet above her, the blasted, damned soil of Thanatos shuddered. It shifted, blistered, and burst in a pillar of flame that sputtered up into the sky like a geyser. A lavender unicorn frantically crawled her way out of the deep grave, shaking off the soot of immolated corpses as she rolled across the ground.

Twilight gagged and coughed, sucking in air not polluted by rotting death, but what she found was nearly as fetid, nearly as disgusting, of the air down in the coffin. Her stomach lurched and Twilight threw up most of everything on her stomach, but as she coughed and sucked in air, she saw the squirming black shells of corpse beetles and her mind rebelled again. A gout of fire erupted from her horn and torched everything around her as she screamed and shook her head.

The unicorn’s terror and rage were both spent quickly, though. Her horn, glowing white-hot, sputtered and smoked as everything around her was turned to ruin. Other graves, marked by a thousand broken tombstones, shattered in a fire that flowed and snaked between them like water. Orange waves licked and scorched their stones and raced down into carrian burrows, adding a chorus of chittering screams to the roar of the flames.

But Twilight’s magic wasn’t inexhaustible. Her horn flickered from fire-white back to orchid and the flames abruptly ceased, leaving only a burning graveyard. She fell back on her rump, panting and shivering. Twilight gagged a few times more until she was sure nothing else was in her stomach, food or otherwise, before finally trying to catch her breath and take stock of her surroundings.

Or, rather, surrounding. Twilight was engulfed by a massive, unending graveyard. The air smelled of rotting gravestench and the sky was a dark, cloudy stain of black and gray with only a slight tinge of light by which Twilight could see. Her own grave, the one she had blasted out of, stood open a few feet away, smoldering and smoking. Twilight stumbled over to it and looked down, but there was nothing recognizable at the bottom; only the burning fat of the body parts and refuse she had been packed in with.

Her mind shoved that memory aside, violently. The one moment of brightness in that coffin would be buried deep and compartmentalized; stamped down, so that Twilight could focus on surviving. Instead of that horror, she latched onto the last memories she had.

The creature. The thing that had been born out of the ashes of the necromancer’s spellbook. A humble quasit, the horned creature had called itself. Some kind of demon that had entrapped her. Pulled her here, wherever here was. Had it been the one to put her in that grave? And why would it? If it had wanted to kill or harm her, there were much easier ways.

But then, Twilight realized what she was missing - her sword. The runesteel claymore that had been on her back when the quasit had taken her. Its weight was gone and only an empty harness was left in its absence.

Twilight’s ears perked. There was a sound, a scraping, clawing sound, from behind one of the tombstones closest to her would-be grave. Of course the quasit was still here, watching. Of course it had taken her sword before burying her alive. Whatever it had set out to do had obviously failed, so it would try again.

But Twilight was not going to be so easily tricked a second time!

The unicorn rushed to her hooves and charged the tombstone, her magic ripping it away, but there was no tiny horned demon cowering behind it. Confused, Twilight’s ears swiveled this way and that, trying to pinpoint the faint scratching sounds. They seemed to be right on top of her, so she spun in a circle so as to not let the little demon jump on her back again.

Something grabbed her leg in an iron grip. A skeletal hand had burst up through the ground and caught her, yanking her downwards with merciless strength. Twilight’s whole foreleg was pulled into the soft dirt before she could pull herself free, but another arm caught her back leg, and then two arms around her barrel. She was quickly pulled straight to the dirt, swarmed by undead appendages. Her horn lit, but something small and green bounded over to her from across the clearing, fast as a jackrabbit. What magic Twilight had been gathering slipped away as a band of cold iron clamped around her horn.

Still, she nearly managed to gore the little demon before it could leap back. All she got for the trouble was another half-rotted arm looping around her neck, pulling her down until she was chin-flat in the dirt.

The quasit, for that is what had revealed itself, laughed as deeply as such a small creature could. “Thought you were so clever!” it taunted. “So powerful! But not so clever or powerful now!”

“I swear to Celestia I’m going to end you!” Twilight yelled. She nearly retched when a rotting hand clamped down over her muzzle.

Braver, the quasit walked up and kicked her right in the ear. “Puny horse! Puny! Nothing compared to the mighty Verrbon! I have fooled both you and the other horse that thought to bargain with my master!” Its little lips quivered excitedly. “Now you should die in terror and become my minion!”

It had clearly wanted to say something more, but a long, tall shadow washed over it, Twilight, and the tombstones far behind the demon like a dark blanket. Twilight twisted this way and that, but the undead holding her wouldn’t budge - but she felt the footfalls of whatever had just joined them. Each step shook the dirt of the graveyard.

The quasit, that had called itself “Verrbon”, tried to scamper away. It was so terrified that it tripped and nearly ran straight into a tombstone, but Twilight thought it had escaped - until an arm reached out and plucked him up like a tiny pebble. The clawed fingers on this arm were easily half as long as Twilight was from snout to tail and were attached to a hand as wide as a dinner table.

“Noisy thing,” a deep, guttural voice said as the quasit was pulled up into the air. Twilight felt a shudder deep from the ground below her and she was suddenly free, the undead arms fleeing back under the dirt. She whirled, backing up into the cool stone of a grave marker, as a massive creature loomed a good dozen feet above her.

It was hideous. A great bald, bulbous head filled with sharp, protruding teeth was set atop a sturdy body the color of a corpse. Its skin hung loose around its shoulders, but Twilight saw chords of muscle ripple as it manipulated the screaming quasit. When it chuckled, its tiny red eyes squinted in pleasure.

But, most horrifying of all, was its exposed ribs and stomach. Its intestines slithered around its legs and hips like red snakes, weaving between jutting bone spikes that broke through its skin all over its body. It reminded Twilight of a massive giant from a storybook, only gutted and left out to die.

“Master, please!” Verrbon squealed. “Please master! Take pity on your poor servant!”

The giant hissed in pleasure. “What use do I have for such a pathetic thing?” it asked. “Does my graveyard need a caretaker to scour the headstones? Do I need you to bark like a hound when rats invade my domain?”

One little red eye swiveled to Twilight as it said that. It was a dead, milky-red eye, but its appearance did nothing to hide the malevolent intelligence lurking beyond it. The quasit screamed as a looped tendril of intestine reached out and took it, faster than a striking snake, coiling around the smaller demon and pulling it inside the giant’s rib cage. It didn’t kill it, instead just holding it there, still screaming incoherently for a few moments before some kind of exhaustion took it.

Twilight thought about running. In fact, her brain was screaming at her that she should have bolted the second she’d gotten free, but that quasit was her only lead on escaping this place. It had been the one to bring her here and she needed it back. Which now meant freeing it from this horror. With a flash of magic, she shattered the iron band around her horn and braced herself in the loose dirt.

“A cornered rat will always bite,” the thing chuckled. A fat, rotting tongue licked at the sharp teeth in its mouth; the two narrow slits between its eyes flared as it took a great sniff of the air. “Living rat. Tasty rat. You have such a bright soul that I will savor.”

It lazily reached out for her, thinking to pluck her up as simply as the quasit. Twilight’s magic stopped it dead a few feet away, fingers twitching helplessly. The thing’s little eyes narrowed and it put more force behind its grasping, but Twilight twisted her neck and swatted its arm away telekinetically. Now it snarled at her like a beast and flung its other arm out with all its strength. Twilight tried to grab this one as well, but the force and momentum were too much. She had to roll away from the attack as its massive clawed hand smashed into several tombstones behind her, shattering them like glass.

Its other hand came up. Twilight thought it was another swipe, but instead it pointed a massive clawed finger at her. Verrbon groaned inside the monster’s rib cage and a small ball of green fire appeared at the tip of that claw.

The demon could cast spells!

Twilight put her shield up a moment before the energy ball could slam into her, but her shield was nothing against the follow up swipe of the monster. It shattered the orchid bubble and swatted Twilight like a rampaging bull. She skipped and skidded along the dirt until she slammed into a tall tombstone. She clenched her teeth and rolled back to her feet, but she was shivering and lightheaded from the blow.

It was grinning at her now, claws on its right hand twitching and crackling energy held in its left. Twilight let out a huff of air and charged up her lightning spell - the one Trixie had taught her in the badlands. It didn’t even try to move as the electrically-charged bolt raced toward it, although such a large thing surely wasn’t that quick to begin with. Instead, it simply took the hit, electricity crackling along its skin, making the tendrils of its intestines quiver like worms in a rainstorm.

Then Verrbon’s groans turned to screams. Quickly, Twilight cut off the magic. The little quasit, her one link to home, smoldered and smoked from its prison inside the fiend’s chest.

“Not a clever rat,” the giant taunted. “Careful, morsel, or this little dog will stop its barking. If you want him out you need to only stop resisting and take his place. Before I devour your soul, I may let you speak with him.” Its tongue lolled out. “Am I not a kind master?”

Twilight’s jaw clenched. She wanted to scream at the demon for not fighting fair, but even deep in her temper she knew that would be foolish. It was a demon. They were the definition of wickedness and evil. She couldn’t fight it with magic, because it had a hostage. She couldn’t fight it with strength, because it had magic itself. And she couldn’t shield herself, because it could break her shield.

Slowly, angrily, she let the orchid glow of her horn fade. Her head slumped, defeated.

A happy ripple went through the demon. Exposed organs quivering in delight, it almost sang. “Giving up? Smart morsel. Clever morsel. Submit to me and I promise that I shall make your demise a quick one.”

“Let the quasit go and let me ask it a question,” Twilight hissed. She didn’t shy back as the massive demon walked right up to her, looming.

Its claw came down and caressed her cheek. “If you resist,” he told her, “the quasit dies.”

Intestines as thick as Twilight’s leg unwound from the demon’s stomach. They wrapped around her neck, her barrel, her legs, binding her better than the undead under her hooves had before. Slowly, she was reeled into the slimy, humid wetness, taking the place of Verrbon. The rotting, rank flesh she was neck-deep in molded around her; the ribs, her cage, closed back up before her eyes.

Her horn began to glow a sickly green. “What a soul,” the demon sighed. He lifted his claws out before him and they pulsed with orchid magic. “What power you were hiding! With you, I could leave this tiny graveyard and take a seat at Lachrymosa! No! I could take Lachrymosa! I could-!”

The demon was never allowed to finish.

When she saw the quasit stumble away, Twilight gathered her power and pushed. Not in one direction - all directions. The flesh around her resisted long enough for Twilight to see that great bulbous head bend over to stare at her, but by then the demon’s ribs were already splintering.

Verrbon was only mildly aware of his surroundings as he tried to get away. With the unicorn’s magic, that devourer would break him without so much as a thought. In his tiny chest, hatred burned. Her soul had been his to take. His to consume.

I hope she dies screaming, he thought. In fact, it could be worth the risk to watch the life fade from that unicorn’s eyes for ruining his plans.

Someone did scream, but it wasn’t the unicorn. A chunk of gut wetly splattered in a heap beside him. Unthinking, the quasit ducked behind a tombstone, only catching a glimpse of the orchid-colored bubble now bloating the devourer out to ridiculous proportions. Its massive hands were locked over its stomach, as if it could somehow contain the unicorn’s power, but it was completely futile. It only managed one garbled scream as the tension in its body was finally overcome by the magical force pressing upon it.

Gore covered the graves. A broken piece of rib skewered Verrbon’s hiding place, nearly taking off his ear. He made to run, but his leg wouldn’t move. It was shivering too much.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Horseshoes against flat grave markers. Slow, yes, but steady.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

An orchid light filled the graveyard, casting long and irregular shadows from the granite monuments to the dead. On hands and knees, Verrbon crawled. His power went into the ground, cajoling the mindless undead beneath. There is food for you, he told them. Flesh to tear and bones to gnaw.

But they didn’t answer.

Clack. Clack.

It stopped. The orchid light shrunk the shadow of Verrbon’s hiding place on all sides, closing in as that light steadily came closer.

A face appeared above him, looking over the top of the tombstone. A face running red with the blood of a dead demon, eyes lit with fury brighter than even its glowing horn.

The demon screamed as orchid fire caught him around the neck and began yanking him upwards.

“And now, Verrbon, you are going to have a conversation. With me.”

Author's Note

I'm back. Blame Armasyll mostly, but also blame yourselves. Somehow this story still, periodically, gets over a hundred views a day. It's in cycles.

Seriously. Where are you guys coming from?

Oh, right, our dnd monster of the week! Meet the devourer, who is not nearly as dumb as he looks with a good intelligence stat.

Chapter 19

Trixie had always considered herself a master of the stage. Acting, performance, talent - she was a triple threat of theatrics. She would admit, if she were in a humble mindset, that some of that talent might have come from her father, absent parent though he was.

Good that was all Trixie had inherited from the stallion. Privately, Trixie knew that she wasn’t exactly the most upstanding of ponies, but compared to Jackpot’s brand of rakishness she was practically a saint.

Not that the temptation to be that much worse wasn’t the monkey on her back right this second, though.

“So maybe I shouldn’t have eavesdropped on a master’s meeting,” Trixie grumbled to herself, plodding down the hallway from the chantry’s kitchen. She had just gotten done raiding it of anything remotely alcoholic, only finding some wine coolers for her trouble, and now only wanted to curl up in bed so she could pretend the last few hours of her life hadn’t happened.

But she was in no great hurry, because she knew that her number one headache was just beyond her bedroom door. The purple (an annoying, know-it-all-sounding voice mentally told her “ahem, lavender”) unicorn inside would know something was up the second she walked in. For some unknown reason Twilight Sparkle was good at reading her moods, and Trixie had never been one for keeping secrets. She would probably blurt it all out soon enough and Trixie’s butt would be well and truly cooked.

Nevermind that, of all ponies, The Ancient and Honorable Sol Shard should have been able to sniff her out. Maybe it would have been a stern talking-to, maybe she would have even gotten yelled at, but that would have just been another cheeky mark on her record. One that, in her later years, she could look back on fondly.

But no. Not only had Sol Shard not seen her illusion spell, Princess Celestia hadn’t either. Sure, the princess had been a magical projection, but she was also a living god so Trixie thought that maybe the fundamental rules of magic wouldn’t apply to her. Trixie had almost dropped the spell in shock when the princess had first made her appearance and it was only by the skin of her horn that Trixie had managed to keep her concentration.

So given all of that, Trixie was in a foul mood. Who wouldn’t be, after hearing that you would be nothing more than a stepping stone for some up-jumped magical freak so she could take her place at Princess Celestia’s side. Oh, and if that wasn’t enough, she would also be Trixie’s future boss.

“And of course that old goat Solar Comet had jumped at the chance to bring up that incident with the Chronomancer’s Armlet,” she grumbled. The few ponies she passed were giving her a wide berth in the hallway, because it was never good when Lulamoon began talking to herself. “So I wanted to borrow it to see if that time dilation spell was still in tact. Is that so bad? I was going to give it back.” Probably. Maybe.

And hadn’t she paid back that lapse in judgment in spades? A year of her career, gone. Her first journeyman ring, gone. A permanent mark on her record. Trixie knew many other apprentices that had done much worse than borrow an uncategorized magical bauble and gotten tiny slaps on the nose. Trixie knew she had only gotten the book thrown at her to be made an example of - Sunburst’s pet project was getting too uppity, best to knock her down a peg.

“Ahem.”

Speaking of which. Trixie usually had a sixth sense when it came to avoiding her former teacher, but maybe she was getting rusty? She’d been off on her own, doing her own missions, for almost a year now, ever since she’d gotten back her journeyman ring.

But there Sunburst was, leaning against the wall next to Twilight’s and her’s room, looking every inch like a disapproving teacher. He wasn’t mad - he hardly ever got mad - but in some ways that disappointed look on his face was bad enough to make Trixie wish he would. Ponies being mad at her was normal for Trixie, after all, but she’d never quite gotten immune to Sunburst being disappointed.

“Are we going to have to play twenty questions, or do you know why I’m here right now?” he asked.

Maybe it was the way he’s said it - too familiar - that made Trixie want to dig her hooves in. “Trixie doesn’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied. “Trixie suggests that, if you have an issue with something, that you speak to her like an equal.” She saw his jaw clench, which Trixie could deal with. Annoyance was good; anger was better. Safer.

The slightly-older unicorn let out a sigh of air. “Alright, I had that coming after what I did to you out in the desert.” The admission was a well-aimed lance of guilt, straight through Trixie’s chest. She had still been miffed at the way he’d dressed her down when Twilight and she had teleported into the middle of the camp. It had just been too easy for them both to fall back into old ruts of Trixie being irresponsible and Sunburst cleaning up after her.

“...Trixie… I… apologize as well,” she muttered. “It’s just more comfortable, isn’t it?”

Sunburst was quiet for a moment. Nothing about their relationship was comfortable, or even necessarily healthy, with them being so close in age and magical talent (although certainly not magical knowledge, in which Trixie would readily admit that Sunburst was by far her better).

“Nothing about this is comfortable,” he chuckled, echoing Trixie’s own thoughts. “We’re both adults, though, and we can act like it. Magister Lulamoon.”

Trixie might have smiled as well. “Very well, Magister Sunburst. What is it you wish to speak with me about?”

The stallion glanced up and down the hall. The rooms Strauss had stuck Trixie and Twilight in were well away from the rest of the chantry’s residents, but sometimes these walls had ears. Trixie, having lived here for a few years herself, understood that as well as Sunburst did. “I’m talking about your little performance in the attic,” he said a moment later. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you could have brought down on your head?”

Because of course he knew I was there. He’s seen my illusion spell a million times. “I thought I had you fooled this time,” she muttered. “If Princess Celestia didn’t notice me-”

“Don’t be so sure of that,” Sunburst interrupted. “Not much gets by the princess, Trixie, and that meeting wasn’t purely what it seemed on the outside. You can’t assume anything.”

“I figured that out after the other masters left,” Trixie whispered. It was ridiculous that, between the two of them, they would have noticed any kind of magical eavesdropping in the hall, but they were clutched together like conspiring thieves nonetheless. “Was all of that really just a show for the other masters? Did Sol Shard and the princess really plan all of this out?”

“It seems that way,” Sunburst said. “I tried to get him to explain more to me at lunch, but you know how he can be. I think he likes being mysterious just to aggravate me.”

At least you come by it honestly, Trixie thought, but her eyes slid over to the closed bedroom door. “And all that nonsense about Twilight being the next high magister? Trixie will admit that the unicorn is powerful, but surely not that much. At her age she’s already years behind the rest of the masters!”

“So were you, if you remember. And now look how far you’ve come.” That wasn’t an answer and Sunburst knew it, but he seemed reluctant to show his hand just yet.

Trixie narrowed her eyes. Sunburst would never gainsay his former master, not after everything Sol Shard had done for him, but Trixie knew the stallion’s facial expressions well enough to know that, despite throwing his full support behind the scheme of making Twilight the eventual high magister, that he had reservations. She could see it spelled all over his face.

“You don’t think it’s dangerous? Like Solar Comet said?”

Sunburst gave her a flat look. “I didn’t think you, of all ponies, would care what Master Comet thinks about anything.”

“You’re dodging the question,” Trixie accused. “I let you get away with one, but not this. This is going to directly impact both our lives! Iwant to know what you really think.”

“I trust Master Sol Shard. And don’t give me that look, Trixie. That’s the answer I have,” he said, forcefully enough that his ears pinned back and he rechecked the hallway once the outburst was freed. “Listen, I know it might seem underhanded, what he and the princess are doing, but if they both think it's for the good of Equestria then who are we to say it’s not? They have more information than either of us and you know what’s coming next year.”

Of course Trixie knew. Every master knew that Princess Celestia’s sister was going to return next Summer Sun Celebration and restart a war that had been put on hold for the last thousand years. Trixie had, of course, dragged it out of Sunburst over the course of her apprenticeship, because he was absolutely terrible at keeping secrets. It had shocked Trixie at first, but she figured that the princess, the masters, and Sunset Shimmer had it covered.

What she had overheard in that meeting, though, made Trixie question what she’d been believing about how secure things were.

It made her antsy, and worried. Neither of those emotions were Trixie’s usual state of being and it was more than a little distressing to realize that there might be a real problem in under a year that Princess Celestia couldn’t handle.

Sunburst sighed and Trixie realized that she might have been a bit too open with her concern. It was hard to remember that the stallion was almost as good at reading her as vice versa. “Don’t worry about it,” he told her, trying to smile. “Master Sol Shard isn’t worried, so why should we be? Look at it this way - they’re both already planning for things after the Summer Sun Celebration. That should make you feel better.”

It didn’t, but Trixie appreciated the thought. “Fine. Let’s both pretend that things are perfectly under control. That still doesn’t make Trixie feel any better about being a… a sideshow to an upjumped palace guard!” She stomped her foot, ignoring the way Sunburst frantically shushed her, looking between her and the bedroom door. “Twilight sleeps like a box of rocks. She wouldn’t hear Trixie if Trixie let off her entire trunk of fireworks right beside her head.”

“You’re assuming she’s asleep,” Sunburst hissed, still halfway eyeing the door. “I didn’t think I needed to tell you, but Twilight Sparkle cannot find out about anyof this. It would ruin her for everything the princess has planned. You can’t have those kinds of expectations put on you so early, especially with a pony like Twilight.”

That… was probably true. The unicorn seemed to have a habit of overthinking things. “She won’t find out from me,” Trixie promised, though she was sure someone would let it slip eventually. The magisterium was like high school when it came to the rumor mill and Trixie knew that some of the younger masters couldn’t keep their mouths shut.

“It’s all I’m asking for.” A weight seemed to fall off Sunburst’s back with Trixie’s assurance. His smile was more sincere, maybe even sly. “And don’t think for a second I don’t know how good all of this is for you, Trixie. You’re getting first crack at training the future high magister. I know that half the masters at that meeting wanted to be you when the princess said Twilight was yours for now.”

They had, hadn’t they? The thought gave Trixie pause. As… annoying as it was that Twilight Sparkle was being given so much without putting in the necessary effort, Trixie couldn’t deny that being so close to the next high magister would mean nothing but great things for her own rising star - if Twilight met everyone’s expectations. If not, then Trixie could see no better scapegoat than herself.

High risk, high reward. It was just a matter of walking the right line and teaching the right things - and staying in Twilight’s good graces. Which, if she were being honest, Trixie wasn’t certain she was in at the moment.

She glanced at the door. “Trixie might have made a mess of things,” she whispered. She had been a bit miffed at being cut out of the investigation, and maybe had gone a little too hard at the local bars. And maybe she had forgotten to go and see Twilight while she was in the hospital. Surely the mare wouldn’t hold it against her? If Trixie remembered it right, Twilight had been upset herself.

Should have brought her some booze in the hospital. Snuck them in or something. Shared that misery. That’s what friends did, wasn’t it?

She quickly pushed past Sunburst, who let out a surprised huff, and rapped her hoof on the door. “Twilight! Twilight, I’m here and I’ve brought alcohol!” she called out, one of those sad little wine coolers in her magical grip.

“Strauss is going to be so mad you stole his coolers,” Sunburst muttered.

“He can be as mad as he wants once Trixie is back in the future high magister’s good graces,” Trixie hissed, knocking again. “Twilight Sparkle? Are you awake?”

The door fell open under her knocks; Twilight had apparently neglected to even close it all the way. With her usual brashness, Trixie pushed it open all the way and walked inside. But she was stopped short in the doorway by what she found.

“What in Equestria happened in here?” Sunburst asked, voicing (in a less-colorful way) what Trixie was thinking as she took in the state of the bedroom.

It was ruined. The curtain was ripped, torn right off its rod. Sunlight spilled into the room, illuminating a thoroughly tossed room. The beds were pushed askew, and Trixie’s was even turned over on its side with her poor traveling trunks strewn every which way.

“Ugh, what is that smell?” Trixie gagged as she stepped into the room. Her hoof scraped against something on the floor - a pile of ashes - but nothing looked burned. “It smells like rotten eggs.”

“It’s sulfur,” Sunburst answered as he came in behind her. His voice was grave as he took the bedroom in. His eyes flicked from the window to the beds and then down to the floor, where Trixie was trying to wipe her hoof off. “Stop! Stop, don’t move. Let me see what you stepped in.”

“It’s just a little soot,” Trixie told him, but she didn’t object or pull away when his magic took hold of leg and gently lifted it. He stared at the black ash for a moment and then ushered her to step back, which she did. The mare knew that look in his eyes well enough to be stubborn for no reason.

And it seemed like he’d found a thread of something more than just Twilight being a slob of a roommate. His nose pressed so close to the floor that it almost touched what was left of the soot. Trixie was looking over his shoulder when he suddenly reared back up, almost hitting her, and levitated one of her trunks over.

He clambered up on top of it like a mountain goat. He grabbed another and stacked it when it didn’t give him enough height. “Dear Celestia,” he hissed when he was nearly touching the ceiling.

“What’s got you so upset?” Trixie asked, scrambling up after him. Her question was answered when she looked back down at the floor from her higher vantage - and at the blurry soot outline burnt into the wooden floor. “Is that-?”

Sunburst was already climbing back down. “A summoning circle. And a foul one at that. Celestia forgive me, but I think that it may be demonic.”

“Demonic? As in, Abyssal?”

“That’s normally what one means when they mention demons,” Sunburst snapped. Trixie knew it was bad if Sunburst was resorting to sarcasm.

The shock was so much that Sunburst was already out the door before Trixie came to her senses; she had to run to catch up to him in the hall, and she headed him off. He could have pushed past her, but the look on his own face was fairly unsettled.

“We don’t know for sure,” she stressed, mind racing. When was the last time the magisterium had confirmed an abyssal portal? And inside one of its own chantries? “Where are you going to go? To Master Sol Shard? And tell him what? That we found a summoning circle?”

“Yes. Exactly that,” Sunburst said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Trixie shook her head. “We need information first,” she said, trying to sound sure of herself. Tried to sound in control, even if she could barely hear herself think over the heartbeat in her ears. All she was thinking about was how quickly things would go if Sunburst went to go get anyone else. Anything with the stench of the Abyss on it was immediately treated as a top-level threat.

That was not conducive to a good start in the magisterium.

“There’s got to be some way to get to the bottom of this before we go grabbing ponies,” Trixie said. “What about… Rocky Spark’s Incantation of Scrutiny? I’m sure we can get some lungwort from the chantry stores and-”

“You want to use Incantation of Scrutiny for an abyssal incursion?” Sunburst asked, the very idea (purposeful, of course) taking his attention for a moment. “No, Ginger Afternoon’s Seeker’s Denouement is a much better…” His eyes narrowed a fraction as his brain finally caught up with his mouth. “Oooh, I see what you’re doing, Trixie. No, no, no. We aren’t covering this up.”

“Not a cover-up!” the mare quickly assured. “Just fact-finding! Trixie would never suggest a cover-up! Just, you know, fact-finding.”

Sunburst actually thought about it for a long moment, which lit the fires of hope in Trixie’s heart. Just one more push! “Think! If we go and grab Sol Shard, what kind of message would that send to all the other masters about his judgment? We could be undermining Twilight Sparkle before she even officially joins the magisterium! Trixie just wants to do a little investigation, see what’s really going on, and then we can report to Master Sol Shard.”

Oh, come on, she thought, plastering an earnest, trustworthy face on as Sunburst contemplated. Trixie knows you want to have more information first. You hate running to the old goat without knowing everything first.

If Twilight were actually in trouble and if it was an actual abyssal “snatch-and-grab” (what the chantry had begun, in unofficial capacity, calling the distressingly-regular demonic abductions around the country) then it meant Twilight had been up to some very interesting things, because demons hadn’t just been taking ponies randomly. Nine times out of ten it turned out that they had been a cultist, or at least dabbling in some kind of forbidden magic. This was the sort of thing that Trixie could sit on for years, holding it carefully and then springing it on her good friend Twilight Sparkle down the line for the magisterium posting of her choice!

Too small, Trixie thought, forcing any kind of anticipation from her expression. This kind of dirt could get me my own chantry later on! It was an incredible thought, and if some little part of Trixie that still felt indebted to the purple unicorn for that business with the helmed horror was gratified as well then all the better, right?

“We… can look into this a little more,” Sunburst finally, finally, allowed. It took every sliver of control for Trixie not to celebrate, and the stallion was for sure watching for it. Evidently, because he slowly trotted back to the room, he hadn’t found anything.

Trixie allowed herself a single celebratory prance where he couldn’t see her. Nothing too over the top, because now they actually had to figure out what happened to Twilight. It wasn’t like the magisterium had ever gotten back anyone taken by the Abyss, after all. Could be another feather in Trixie’s cap!

“So, are we going with the Seeker’s Denouement? Should Trixie go and see if she can borrow (steal) some gypsum and clover?”

“No, there’s a faster, and better, option open to us. Come in here and close that door behind you, please. Sit in the circle, please.”

So maybe Sunburst seemed a bit frantic. No big deal. Trixie did as she was asked, because he actually asked rather than ordered - Maybe he finally remembers that Trixie is a peer now? About time - and didn’t want to ruin things when he’d already agreed with her.

The stallion hung the curtains back up as best he could, putting the bedroom back into shadow. His own horn was the only thing making any light, which made Trixie’s eyes forcefully adjust. “Which spell are we doing again? You didn’t say.”

Sunburst nodded, his horn’s light bobbing up and down. “Right. Right. How much do you know about spectral projection?” he asked.

“Not much?”

“Then this will be an excellent learning opportunity,” Sunburst said as the light from his horn flashed too bright to look at, making Trixie’s head spin and spin and spin…

Author's Note

Oh man, two chapters in three days? What is this witchcraft?

Also, Trixie flipping back from first to third-person is on purpose. I like the idea of Trixie trying to be a good, responsible, serious pony, but then slipping back into old habits when she's up to her old tricks.

You can take Trixie out of canon, but you can't take the canon out of Trixie. Scheming is just her way of showing she cares.

Chapter 20

Verrbon was running for his life.

In the Abyssal hierarchy, a quasit sat firmly near the bottom - but not at the bottom. A dretch? He could bully a dretch, weak little things that they were. Manes, too, being fresh souls from the material plane starting on their demonic journey. Verrbon was a solid century old now and was more clever and vicious than most of his kin. Just a few more decades he would have enough souls and magic to become a mighty vrock. Or, as he had thought, just one powerful soul with magic to spare. A stupid mortal that had dipped her stupid pony hooves into something far outside her ken.

“Get back here you strip of filth!” Twilight screamed, plowing right through some unlucky undead that hadn’t been paying attention.

The quasit spotted a rutterkin and angled toward it. Being little more than a mutated, bloated corpse it couldn’t catch the nimble little demon as it scampered between its legs, but it made for a decent obstacle for the murderous unicorn chasing him - until it let out such a horrifying scream of pain and terror that Verrbon almost tripped mid-stride. He was used to the sounds of death, but the meaty pop he heard cut-off the rutterkin’s anguished cry made even him shiver.

He risked a glance backwards and wished he hadn’t. The unicorn’s legs were glowing white now and her hooves were starting little fires wherever she galloped. Far behind them now was the burning lump(s) of flesh that had been the rutterkin. It’d been a vane hope anyway; if the unicorn had burst a devourer apart then what hope did anything nearby have? There weren’t likely to be any demons around worse than some undead or rutterkin this far out into Thanatos’ backcountry.

Unless… he were willing to draw his master into things. Though, that would certainly forfeit his life. If his master found out he might have dragged an aspect of that goddess here…

Well, getting burst apart and dying would be the least of Verrbon’s problems.

The quasit thought about trying to play the repentant servant again, but what were the chances the unicorn would even give him enough time to work up a good fake cry? Maybe a bargain? Small demon that he was, not many unicorns of a violent bent would turn down a demon’s service.

“I am going to rip out your spine and beat you with it until you send me back!”

Okay. No. Nope. No deals. There was only one real way out now, and it involved maybe drawing all sorts of worse attention. But what other chance did he have?

Something with wings, he thought. The quasit took a running leap into the air, launching himself off a tombstone like a springboard. His bones and skin rearranged themselves in the fastest transformation of his life as he took to the blighted sky as a large crow. Below him, he could feel the tingle of magic reaching out for him. The heat of it singed his feathers, growing so near he could feel the ghost of the grip around his neck.

Then, faintly - “Twilight Sparkle! Calm yourself this instant!” Abruptly, the telekinesis fell away.

He was free. Verrbon flapped his wings and rode a hellish updraft up and up and up until he was touching the oily, black clouds hanging over Thanatos.

Terrible things lurked up here, but better the demon you maybe know than the one you certainly don’t.

Defense in Depth, Chapter 20

“You didn’t tell me it was this bad,” Strauss accused. The stench was overwhelming the father into the basement he went, and there were another two sub-levels to go. The pony walking with him only grunted through the thick improvised mask he had tied over his muzzle. His compatriot, the honorable and ancient Sol Shard wasn’t even batting an eye. How many dank caves and basements had that old horse seen in his century-long life?

How many have I? Strauss thought. More in the last decade than in the three before it put together. He was a unicorn of fifty-two years now and few chantry heads could claim to have been out as often in the “magical weeds” as he had, but this was spoiling even his stomach.

His superior was unruffled beyond a few minor tells. It was only the tenseness of his lips that betrayed Sol Shard’s own disgust. For a moment Strauss might have thought that was just his general annoyance at being called away for something like this, since apparently Sunburst had better things to do, wherever he’d gotten off to, but that wasn’t the type of animal the ancient magister was. Sol Shard loved a puzzle, relished a challenge, so Strauss hadn’t been surprised that he’d invited himself along when the chantry journeymen had come back so shaken, begging for help from their leader.

Strauss had already been mentally adding more training onto their regiments, but the second the stench had hit him the thought evaporated. No amount of training could prepare a magister for what he and Sol Shard were going to find at the bottom of these steps; a pony either had the spine and stomach for it or they didn’t.

“I wonder if this has anything to do with our problem out in the desert?” Strauss considered aloud.

The detective walking with them only gave the pair a quick, curious glance; he was too busy pushing down his revolution. Himself unbothered, Sol Shard hummed at the question. “Perhaps. The timing is suspicious. I’m not willing to jump to any conclusions just yet, though.”

Fair. Strauss chastised himself mentally for voicing his thoughts just yet. It was premature, at this junction, and if the sheer repulsiveness of the atmosphere hadn’t been so bad it could have led to some awkward rumors getting around the LPPD. Although they often worked with the Magisterium on arcane issues and monster hunts, it was better to keep them in the dark about things in their earliest stages, to keep untrained ponies from getting underfoot.

Not that overzealous police were a problem at the moment. The attending detective led them into a musty basement with a ceiling so low they all had to duck their heads. Las Pegasus was a vibrant, economic powerhouse now, but it hadn’t always been. In fact, the cloud city was the new bit - the bones of the city were in Applewood, a tiny mountaintop settlement dating back all the way to the time of Princess Platinum. I’d been a harsh outpost of wildcat miners and prospectors until the pegasi had moved in and planted their cloud city right on top.

What that left was a shiny veneer of modernity built atop squat earth pony dwellings almost as old as Celestia. Untold passageways and ancient mines littered the mountains and monsters were a constant issue to keep under control as they crawled up from their deep mountain nests. Unless Celestia herself decided to clean out the entire mountain range there was little to be done other than set up a network of alarms and detection spells.

Of course, nothing had gone off in this home, or even on this block. All was clear, according to the spell matrix a few houses over. Obvious tampering. They were clearly dealing with a unicorn that understood their craft (Strauss hoped, prayed, that it was a unicorn because a monster that knew such magical nuances would be infinitely more of a headache).

“You’ll want some light,” the detective told them, voice muffled by his mask, but obviously distressed. His steps were getting shakier the farther he led them into the inky blackness of the basement.

Strauss gave his leader a look. Thankfully, they were of a similar mind. “Detective, we can take it from here if you and your ponies would like to wait outside.” Smiling in that fatherly way the old stallion had perfected decades ago, he laid a weathered hoof on the detective’s shoulder. “It would actually be a great help to us, if you were to interview some of the neighbors to see what they might have heard or seen. You never know if a monster nest could be connected to other buildings.”

The poor detected actually saluted. “O-Of course! I’ll just… I’ll go conduct some interviews.” The poor stallion couldn’t have retreated back up the stairs any faster. “I’ll have a report ready when you’re done down here!” he called back over his shoulder.

Strauss shook his head. “Our taxes at work,” he sniped. “Inspiring how dedicated they are.”

“Indeed,” Sol Shard murmured. His horn lit and a soft glow illuminated the squat little basement. It wasn’t the most complicated of spells, but Strauss was still casually impressed with the uniformity of the light. So many unicorns treated their horns like flashlights instead of being proper mages.

“I suppose that’s it,” the chantry master said, eyes catching on a crumbled bit of wall at the far end of the basement. The whole thing had been made out of badly-carved bricks and several had been pushed over, creating a sort of tunnel.

The pair walked over to it. The smell of rot was surely coming from the hole and this close it was almost overpowering, even for a seasoned magister like Strauss. Admitting defeat, he finally cast a spell to put a magical filter over his head. Whether or not Sol Shard had done the same, he hadn’t seen.

“Look at the bricks,” the old stallion said, pointing to the pile. “They’ve been pushed out, from behind. Seems like something might have come up from below.”

Not good. This had all the trappings of a major monster den. The only worry Strauss allowed himself on the outside, though, was a slight shift of his legs. “Perhaps I should go fetch my golem? It would be more useful against the worst things in this mountain.”

Sol Shard thought for a moment, but shook his head. “Call it, but we’re going to press on. I want to see what it is we are dealing with, and if it would be a good match for our new ward.” Ducking, he squeezed through the gap in the wall.

Strauss mentally sent his animated gargoyle a command to find them, as well as a general idea of what the plan was. The stupid homonculous couldn’t answer him back, but it would be sure to find them for all of the compulsion spells Strauss had layed upon it.

His fearless leader was already gone and out of sight. Strauss took a step toward the hole, but his left lingered in the air, his first step aborted for the moment. Warm air brushed against his coat and face, like something was taking massive breaths right in front of his nose.

Like the hole was really some monster’s gullet he was willingly walking into. Like the remaining stones above his head were teeth, ready to come down and crunch him the second he was past the threshold.

“Ridiculous,” he harshly whispered to himself. It was only a monster den and a few bodies; nothing to be afraid of. Was he no better than his journeyman? Did the Chantry Head of Las Pegasus quail at darkness? Of course he did not.

The fit was tight. Sol Shard, thin in his age, was making better time ahead of him. Strauss was no sedentary pony, but there were places his barrel got stuck and he had to squeeze. The walls were unsettlingly warm to the touch and even his filter spell couldn’t shield him from that. The whole endeavor was starting to feel like he was traveling down some creature’s massive throat and he found it more difficult to push the thought away the narrower the tunnel became.

“Almost through,” Sol Shard called from somewhere up ahead. His light was a dim glow around the bend of the tunnel that seemed to flicker like a lanturn.

The old stallion might be feeling his age, Strauss thought as he squeezed through the last bend in the tunnel. Sol Shard was waiting on him, but his spell seemed to have evened itself out. Now the light was firm and steady in the darkness. The ancient magister’s face was troubled, though. His eyes were staring past Strauss, eyebrows slightly drawn, deep in thought.

He startled when the chantry head stepped over to him. “Are you alright?” Strauss asked, whispering.

Sol Shard slowly nodded. “Something is… not right. Tell me what you hear.”

It was a strange question, but Strauss perked his ears up. “Water,” he said, after a moment, “but far off. Are we in a cavern?”

“A large one. I can’t find the edges with my light.”

“Should we risk something brighter? What could be down here that the two of us could not face?”

Silence, for a few moments. “Trying to be the upbeat one, Strauss? I must be in a state.”

“A bit unnerved, perhaps.” The younger stallion prepared his own illumination spell that slowly pushed out from his horn. Sol Shard didn’t stop him. Strauss’s spell slinked across the floor in fits and leaps, crawling into every crack and cranny it could like water.

The bodies weren’t a surprise. Not even the state they were in, a jumble of half-eaten bits and pieces, was too shocking. Monsters were messy eaters and it didn’t matter to them that the meat they were consuming had been a living, thinking thing once. They didn’t have reverence for the dead.

The amount, though…

Even Strauss felt a spark of sympathetic anger burn through his clinical disposition at the sight of the jumbled stack of corpses. There must have been the remains of a dozen or so ponies there, haphazardly strewn in a refuse pile a few yards away from the basement opening the two magisters had exited from.

And the size of the cavern was concerning as well since there were signs of excavation. Not claw marks, but instead deep ploughs in the stone. Like a giant pony had dug through the rock with their dull hooves.

Sol Shard was looking at the bodies when Strauss turned his attention back. “Whatever we are looking for wants brain matter,” he muttered, anger bleeding through his wizened, raspy voice.

Strauss could have asked if Sol Shard would think it best to hand this over to his future replacement, but he held his tongue. He could see the steel in the stallion’s eyes - he wasn’t leaving this place until whatever was down here was dead.

“The undead?” Strauss asked. He was mentally going through his bestiary and trying to pick out what fit all these disparate clues. “Mind flayers?” Dear Celestia, let it not be mind flayers.

“Too messy for them and too clean for the undead,” Sol Shard answered. “No, whatever killed these ponies specifically targeted their heads and only nibbled on the rest. And I believe it to be a single creature and not a nest.”

“A single creature? Something that could make a cavern this large without alerting the chantry?” Strauss couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his voice; the entire mountain was warded for just this type of incursion.

Sol Shard’s horn began to glow in a soft light. He jerked his head and a ball of wispy energy sailed into the air in a wide arc until, at the very peak, it burst into a thousand shards of light that glittered in the darkness. It wasn’t a spell that Strauss recognized, but he could feel its magic tugging at him as the snowfall of light tickled at his exposed coat.

Slowly intricate symbols began to glow along the walls of the cavern, standing out in the darkness like cattle brands. “Counterwards. I am willing to wager that they are directly opposed to the nearest batch of monitoring wards in this neighborhood.”

Such a feat wasn’t possible by a simple dark magic meddler. “Someone didn’t want this nest to be found. I believe we may have discovered your necromancer,” Strauss hypothesized.

Sol Shard nodded. His magelight drifted over the walls, following the glowing runes etched in the stone, until it came to a narrow little passageway on the far wall. What light shined into it was soon blocked by a twist in the tunnel a few feet in, hiding whatever was farther beyond in crouching darkness.

“Far be it from me to question your wisdom, but perhaps we should-”

“We can’t lose the element of surprise,” Sol Shard preempted. “They escaped us in the desert, but we cannot allow them to go to ground here in the city. At the very least, we must discover what manner of beast they are using.”

Unwittingly, Strauss’ eyes were drawn toward the dark portal at the far end of the cavern, where the light wouldn’t penetrate. Some ancient prey instinct was telling him to not go there, that there was nothing for a pony beyond it. Years of focused training tempered the frantic edge of panic that would have otherwise started to descend upon him, but his steps were hesitant.

A few spans ahead, Sol Shard looked back over his shoulder. “Perhaps you should…?”

He left the question hanging. Like bait on a hook, Strauss thought, a flash of anger going through him. His mind couldn’t help but turn towards decades past, when it would have been a test. One that, years ago, Strauss had always guessed he had failed when the high magister had chosen a different journeyman as his preferred student.

The stallion steadied his breathing. “Simply watching my footing,” he said, catching up with a few quick trots. Sol Shard nodded and turned back to the work ahead, but not before Strauss caught the relieved look on the magister’s face that he hadn’t been left down here alone.

As they descended into the deeper darkness, though, Strauss sent one more mental command to his golem: hurry.

Author's Note

Another day, another chapter. Sorry it was a bit longer than the other ones. I might not update again for a month or so - college finals and a long vacation - but I'll get back into the swing of things next month.

For a reminder, here's the bestiary for the dnd monster that Verrbon, the quasit, is!

Also, another new denizen of the Abyss! The rutterkin!

Next few chapters are back to Twilight's Bizarre Adventure in Hell, so look forward to those!

Chapter 10

“Unicorns, front and center!”

Shattershield’s bellow raced through the platoon like a wildfire - all unicorns were to report to the parade area. It had come down during the typical hour of afternoon free time, so ponies were scrambling to hide contraband and throw on their uniforms.

It had meant a lot of complaining and spilled tea for Twilight’s social group. Bay Orchid was blase about the whole thing, helping Noble Cause round up the more stubborn of their clique, but Twilight saw the tightness around the unicorn’s eyes. For once, her considerable familiar information network hadn’t predicted something and it was showing on her face. She even asked Twilight for help rounding everyone up, which she’d never done before.

And, to Twilight’s great surprise, she didn’t mind helping. Her “arrangement” with Orchid had gradually morphed into something a little more concrete. They weren’t friends, not really, but Twilight had found herself enjoying tea and evening talks with the snooty group, or walking Noble Cause through some advanced telekinesis lessons. It beat trying to turn in early and have Lightning Dust wake her up when she flapped into the tent just before lights out.

Speaking of the feather brain, she was waiting on Twilight near the front with many other trainees, probably eager to watch someone get smoked. Shattershield and his cadre had a distinctly “group punishment” streak in them - some unicorn had probably been caught using magic during the day and now every unicorn would pay for it.

At least, that’s what Twilight had thought. But Shattershield wasn’t sporting the gleeful look he usually had when dishing out punishment, nor did he badger the slower unicorns for once. He was strictly professional, standing almost at attention, and Twilight soon spotted the reason why: Colonel Jackdaw was standing a few feet to his right. Twilight hadn’t seen the Colonel since getting off the train, but he still had that same unimpressed look about him that she remembered.

He stepped forward when every unicorn was gathered. “I expect you to gather twice as fast the next time we call you to attention,” he said. Jackdaw’s voice was a sharp contrast to Shattershield’s, but his slight displeased sneer was twice as intimidating.

“I will not mince words. There is a mission you may be put on. The task force needs a powerful unicorn, so we’ll be testing some of you.”

A ripple went through the line of unicorns. They were just under three weeks from graduation, but someone was getting sent out on a mission? Next to Twilight, Bay Orchid gave her a slight hip bump. When Twilight looked over, the other unicorn was giving her a significant glance.

‘You need to be the one,’ she mouthed, and turned back to the front.

Twilight let out a breath. This was her chance! Her hoofs stamped involuntarily and she had to rein herself in.

The Colonel’s eyes slid over to her. “Well, some of you are eager. That’s good, because this is entirely voluntary. There is a possibility that this mission could be deadly. Monster hunting usually is. Everyone who does not want to risk themselves can step back now. I highly encourage those slated for administration jobs to do so.”

A full two-thirds of the group did so. Twilight had known that many unicorns went into clerical jobs, but she hadn’t expected that only four unicorns would be left. Noble Cause was still at the front, and Twilight herself, but so was the red unicorn from Lightning Dust's little gang - Sure Shot.

“This makes things a bit easier,” Colonel Jackdaw said, sounding pleased. “We had dozens of potentials for the earth pony and pegasi slots. I suppose not many unicorns join the Guard that aren’t clerks or medics.”

“Because most unicorns don’t put stock in the dramatic! Or the adventurous!”

A robed figure leapt out from behind the colonel, twirling in midair and landing on her two back hooves. “Today is your lucky day!” she declared, whipping the hood down from her head. Locks of a moonlight-pale blue mane spilled out around the mare’s pretty face. Twilight saw some stallions in the crowd blush; they hadn’t seen a clean, makeup’d mare in over a month now.

But the unicorn didn’t have eyes for them. She smirked (the expression seemed default for her) and looked the group of unicorns that had stayed at the front over critically.

“Well, at least they look the part of the brave Royal Guard. Perhaps the Great and Powerful Trixie will find what the Magisterium needs here after all.” She flipped her mane over her shoulders, clearly aware of the attention she was getting and reveling in it. She trotted straight up to them and walked up and down the line of four like a judge at a dog show.

Twilight could have sworn there was a look of calculation in Trixie’s eyes as she sized her up, but maybe she was being more critical because Twilight was the only mare? “Twilight Sparkle?” she whispered, making a show of looking at her hooves and horn. No one else seemed to have caught the question. “Trixie will be looking forward to seeing what you can do.”

That was… odd. The other mare was still smiling at her, but it had turned conspiratorial. When she moved on to Noble Cause, it went back to cocksure and flirty. Weird mare; didn’t she know the Magisterium had it out for her?

“Yes,” Trixie called out, “this group will do! Allow Trixie to prepare something for our little test.”

Her horn lit magenta and four training dummies flew out into the courtyard. They were shabby-looking things; unicorns had probably been using them for target practice at the fort for decades.

Shattershield grunted. He didn’t seem to like Trixie taking over his training yard because he stomped past her. “Alright, so the four of you can see what we want you to do here. You each get three minutes to show the magister your abilities.” He jerked his head at the dummies. “Pretend they’re monsters that are going to do whatever it is that will get you motivated enough to not be your usual brand of useless.”

“And the Great and Powerful Trixie can help you with the visualization,” she said. The dummies shimmered magenta for a moment before a silverish smoke bellowed out from them. That smoke solidified into four forms - illusions - of a griffon in full war armor, a ferocious manticore, a moaning zombie pony, and a towering, club-wielding ogre. They even moved and paced around like real things!

An excited murmur rose from the crowd of trainees, and not nasty looks from the cadre could quiet them down. Twilight had to consciously keep her jaw from dropping; that level of illusion magic was incredible, and Trixie didn’t even look winded!

The mare took a small bow, and made her illusions do the same before they went back to snarling. “Now, shall we begin? Who wants to go first?”

Before Twilight could even think to open her mouth, Lightning Dust’s unicorn friend jumped forward. He was big for a unicorn, brawny muscles stretched tight under a bright red coat. Twilight hadn’t seen his casting yet, but he looked sure of himself.

“I will, ma’am! Trainee Sure Shot, at your service.”

“Eager! Trixie likes it!” She dramatically pointed at her dummies and the big ogre lumbered forward. Somehow, even the sounds of it walking seemed to boom out over the training yard!

Sure Shot grinned. He crouched, like he was getting ready to sprint. “Just want to save you a little time, ma’am. You won’t need to test anyone else after this.”

Shattershield had a stopwatch. A nod from Trixie and he hit the timer. “Go!”

The red stallion’s horn blazed to life. Twilight and Noble Cause shied back from the sudden wind that whipped past them and flattened the grass in a circle around the unicorn. Instead of launching a spell at the ogre, his magical aura settled on his body like a second skin.

“Ooooh, physical enhancement,” Trixie cooed. “That’s-”

Whatever else she was going to say was drowned out by Sure Shot letting out a bellow and breaking into a thunderous charge. The unicorn was big - almost as big as most of the earth pony stallions in their group - and his hooves made a clatter as he rapidly closed distance with the ogre, but Twilight didn’t know what he hoped to do. He was going to run face-first into that dummy.

At least, that’s what Twilight thought he was going to do. A few yards away he lowered his head and his horn lit again. A thunderous BOOM went through the training yard, shaking even the tents, as a red streak of unicorn zipped straight through the illusion.

A dozen feet on the other side, Sure Strike slid to a halt, kicking up dirt and rocks as he applied four hooves as breaks; even still he skidded a solid yard before coming to a stop, panting hard.

The ogre fared much worse. The illusion flickered and there was a massive hole straight through the center, showing the shattered training dummy at its core. Trixie let the magic fade away and the whole thing collapsed in a heap.

It was the single-most impressive thing Twilight had ever seen. Judging by the stomps and claps from the audience, that was true for most of the other ponies, magical or not, who had just witnessed the same thing. Even Trixie looked impressed.

“Bravo! Trixie did not know Dressage taught War Magic. An excellent application of Flawless Victory’s Instantaneous Movement Incantation!”

Sure Shot managed to nod, but he still looked wobbly. “I wanted to show you the best I could do,” he wheezed. Whatever that spell was, it had taken a toll on the unicorn and he was wobbly on his hooves. “I learned that from my dad. I’m going to be a second-generation battle mage.”

Trixie smirked at him. “Very good, very good! But~”

The zombie pony started to shamble toward Sure Shot. It wasn’t fast very fast, but it didn’t need to be to get into the unicorn’s personal space faster than he could recover. Its ugly, rotted teeth clicked and snapped and even though it was an illusion Sure Shot still ducked and weaved to avoid getting bit.

“You have to use your magical ability like a resource,” Trixie lectured. The zombie pony wasn’t pressing Sure Shot very hard, but it was all he could do to fend it off. “Come now, let’s see how fast you can recover! Monsters won’t wait on you to catch your breath!”

A few times the illusion of the zombie bit into Sure Shot before he could get his horn sparking again. When he did, he used a simple telekinesis spell to push the dummy back and get some space. Before he could gear up for another charge, though, Shattershield called out, “Time’s up!” and clicked the stopwatch.

Trixie nodded, and she even clapped along with the rest of the audience - even the colonel. “We have a front-runner!” she declared. It didn’t even matter that Sure Shot was the only one to go so far - Twilight knew he would be the one to beat. The red unicorn was swarmed by Lightning Dust and her group, all patting him on the shoulder and telling him how cool that was.

The pegasus threw a look Twilight’s way, knowing she could hear them. “No way you’ll lose to some nerdlinger who can only lift heavy rocks,” she said. “Bet she doesn’t even know any spells. You’ve got this thing in the bag!”

Shattershield cleared his throat. “Next!” he called out. “We’re going down the line now.”

That meant Twilight was last, after Noble Cause and, weirdly, the admin job unicorn element leader - Little Snow. He was a weedy thing, thinner than even the smallest pegasus, but he had a determined look behind his glasses as he watched the remaining three dummies.

Trixie sized him up. “Well, well. How will you do against our manticore?” she asked, and the illusion bounded forward. Shattershield started the clock right before it reached the little unicorn.

But his horn lit in a flash and a green shield popped right up in front of him. The illusion bounced right off it, complete with the beast looking confused. As impressive as the swift shield was, Trixie’s commitment to her act was better. Twilight was even starting to forget it was all an act, and so was the crowd judging by the gasps as the manticore took swipes at the green wall in front of it.

The stallion split his attention. His horn glowed brighter as a separate string of magic went over to the ruined pieces of the dummy Sure Shot had destroyed. Amazingly, they all mended back into a complete dummy and Twilight couldn’t see a flaw in the spell work.

“Time for some offense!” Little Snow shouted, and he whipped his head at the manticore. His reforged dummy lurched forward like a puppet and slipped right through his shield, swinging at the manticore. The crowd oohed and awed as the two constructs battled, but it was clear Little Snow had the advantage. His shield was still there and he used it to block hits from the manticore, while his dummy could pass through it at will. Soon the manticore was boxed in on the far side of the training ground and Little Snow’s puppet scored a clean hit. The head of the manticore dummy went spinning off into the air, to the amazement of the crowd.

It wasn’t a showy battle like Sure Shot, but Little Snow didn’t look nearly as winded. When Trixie sent the diamond dog after him, he could still keep it away with his shield and his puppet. Even when the zombie pony joined in he held up until the timer ran out.

“What excellent spell craft,” Trixie said, and for the first time she didn’t seem to be joking. She took hold of the puppet and brought it over for her inspection as well. “Perfect repair. We can use it in the next demonstration.”

Little Snow blushed. “I’m good at fixing things,” he muttered. There were snickers from the crowd; he couldn’t even look Trixie in the eyes.

No one said it, but Twilight knew that a new front-runner might have just appeared. What could be better for a monster hunt than someone who could cast shields and animate objects? But then again, if the group needed more firepower Little Snow wasn’t it. It took him a long time to put down the manticore.

Noble Cause hummed. “Offense or defense. It looks like the magister has a choice,” he said, voicing just what Twilight was thinking. Unlike the other two, Twilight knew some of his spell work. They had been training together for a few weeks, after all, and he was a graduate of Celestia’s School. If there was someone to beat, it was probably him.

“No need to look so fierce,” he laughed, and Twilight realized she’d been staring a hole in him. “But we’re competitors now! I’m not going to go easy on you. This will be another feather in my cap, Ms. Sparkle.”

“Big talk for someone scared to get his coat dirty,” Lightning Dust sniped. “Aren’t you worried you’ll chip a hoof?”

But Noble Cause didn’t rise to the taunts. He took his position in the field, giving Little Snow a nod as they passed. Facing down the illusions he was all business. “I’m ready when you are, Magister.”

Trixie’s smile was back. The zombie lurched forward, in a herky-jerky shamble that was surprisingly quick. “And to give our audience a good show, let’s see how you deal with two at once!” At her words, the griffon took to the air in one mighty leap, armor and battle-ax rattling as it went.

“En garde!” Noble Cause shouted. His horn lit a vibrant blue and a spectral sword and shield materialized in front of him. It was a thin, long blade and a small magical dueling shield, but Twilight saw the wisdom of it. He would have to be precise with his movements, but Noble would be able to conserve a lot of energy and still retain his offensive speed!

The noble unicorn smashed his shield into the zombie’s face and charged the griffon. His magical sword caught the blade of the griffon’s ax and Twilight looked away from the action to concentrate on Trixie. The magister wasn’t keeping up with her color commentary for once; she was concentrating on her illusions. She had switched the griffon’s ax for a magical construct, on the fly, to keep pace with Noble Cause! It was incredible!

But Trixie did not have the experience Twilight’s friend did, and that became evident when he neatly sliced the griffon’s arm off. The underlying training dummy’s arm went too and the illusion flickered for a moment. Noble flicked his attention back to the zombie, who was just getting around the shield. The lithe unicorn neatly sidestepped the bite and lashed out with a hind leg, nearly taking the thing’s head off. His sword came down right after and split the illusion in two.

Trixie let out a huff of air. She was sweating now, if only a little. “I’m no magical fencer,” she muttered, sounding just a little perturbed.

Shattershield clicked the stopwatch. Noble Cause hadn’t even used up a full minute. “I think we have our winner,” he said, shooting Twilight a look.

And Trixie was nodding! “I didn’t know we had someone classically trained. But we do have one more over here, maybe…”

“Don’t you think we’ve wasted enough time with this?” Shattershield cut in. “I need to get these trainees back on schedule. Disruptions like this can ruin entire classes.”

Everything was moving too fast. Noble Cause was frowning, but the colonel was walking up to Trixie and Lightning Dust was looking so very smug and Bay Orchid was frantically shaking her head and… and…

“I want to take on Magister Trixie.”

Twilight’s world stopped. Who had said that? What moron had just signed their own death warrant?

...why was everyone looking at her like that? Like she was a crazy pony?

“Well, someone thinks an awful lot of herself.” Tixie’s face was a few inches from hers and Twilight was so shocked that she fell back on her rump. Across the field the illusion of Trixie was only just starting to fade, making Shattershield jump.

The “Great and Powerful” Trixie wasn’t any older than she was, Twilight realized, but the unicorn carried herself in a completely different way. Confidence flowed off her in waves. This was a unicorn mage in her element. Magisterium mages went out on missions for the crown, fighting monsters and monstrous ponies all the time. But she was right there, right in Twilight’s face, staring into Twilight’s eyes.

And she smirked. “They told me you were trouble,” she whispered. Louder, she said, “The Great and Powerful Trixie applauds ambition, even if it’s a bit too big in this case! But she is also very gracious.”

Trixie trotted away, nearly swatting Twilight on the nose with her tail as she went. She went to the other side of the training yard where her training dummies one stood and lit her horn. “You’ve got two minutes,” she said, still smirking. “Let’s see if you can impress Trixie!”

Two minutes to impress a trained mage in single combat?! “Me and my mouth,” Twilight grumbled. She had the beginnings of a plan earlier, but she doubted it would still work. Then again, she didn’t know any fancy shield spells, or augmentation magic, or fencing.

All Twilight had was brute force and a nasty disposition when it came to losing.

Trixie braced herself when Twilight lit her horn. Trixie’s magenta shield popped right down between them, ready for anything. The surface of it was etched with arcane symbols of strength; the type of mental craftsmanship and spellwork that came after years and years of dedicated study. The Great and Powerful Trixie was ready for anything to come her way, be it spell or sword.

What she was not prepared for was a two-tonne plow weight to float above her head.

Trixie jumped just as the massive thing crashed down right where she’d been standing. “Are you trying to kill Trixie?!” she screamed. But that neanderthal purple pony wasn’t listening. A smaller weight flew from the side of the field and crashed straight into her shield, shattering it like so much glass and missing Trixie’s head by inches.

Oh, that was it. Trixie twirled her horn in a circle, lighting the afternoon sky. The bright magenta circle turned into a ring of red fire that shot out toward Twilight. That pony wanted to live dangerously? Okay then. And Trixie was ready for Twilight’s own shield. She had a special bit of magic that would do the trick, hidden in the flames.

But the other unicorn never conjured a shield. Instead, she just jumped through the ring, like some kind of circus act, and it ripped up the ground behind her in an (impressive, if Trixie did say so herself) inferno.

And damn was that unicorn fast! She crossed the field in just a few strides, nearly taking Trixie’s head off again, but with her own hind legs this time. Trixie, who had never had to actually fight anyone, did what any pony would do in this situation - she ran. She ran like the dickens, forgetting that she had all kinds of magic at her disposal because Twilight was right there! The purple unicorn was easily keeping pace with her, not even breaking a sweat, as she pulled aside her and gave her such a hip-check that Trixie went sprawling.

And then, to add insult to injury, Twilight had Trixie by the scruff of her neck! In her teeth! Like a foal!

“Enough of this!” Trixie shouted, lighting her horn again. But Twilight’s own horn lit in response and Trixie felt the firm press of magical suppression. “You want to compare horns, huh?” Trixie growled. She threw everything at the purple unicorn. Every scrap of raw magic that had been won through years of study and training. Every little bit.

And slowly, slowly, Twilight’s suppression was pushed back. It rolled back like a thick blanket on a muggy summer day, sticky and clinging, but back it went. And Trixie started to think that she could salvage this, that she could get back in the driver’s seat, that maybe she’d just been caught off-guard by some psycho…

But then Twilight’s horn started sparking and licks of fire started rolling off it in waves and what little resistance Trixie could put up died. Snuffed out like a candle in the middle of a wildfire.

It terrified her.

Shattershield tackled Twilight. Slammed into her like a runaway freight train. He was twice as massive and several times more bulky, so she went tumbling. “When I say ‘match over’ you damn well better listen!” he shouted. “You alright, magister?”

Trixie let out a breath. She hated herself for how shakey it sounded. “I’m… Trixie is fine. We just got a bit carried away.”

The stallion looked at her like she was nuts. Between the massive fire that the trainees and cadre were trying to put out and the biggest training weight in the yard being thrown around like a hoofball, Trixie could understand the look he was giving her. If her regent got even a sniff of this, he’d have her robes.

Well. There was no way Trixie was going to pick that neanderthal. Telekinesis and magical suppression. Both at amazing, astounding, levels, but so very mundane. No spells. No incantations. No wards or shields. No, Trixie wasn’t going to pick that one.

Trixie opened her mouth to say just that, but then she caught a look at Twilight. The trainee was still there on the ground, cowering under Shattershield. Terrified. Shaking. She thought… well, she probably thought they were going to throw her out of training. Trixie looked over at that colonel, Jackdaw. He was talking to his staff and gesturing angrily at the purple unicorn.

But that wasn’t Trixie’s problem. Trixie had a mission and she didn’t intend to get embroiled any deeper in Magisterium politics than she needed to right now, as a new magister. It wasn’t healthy, it wasn’t…

Twilight stared at her. She was scared, yes, but also angry - indignantly so. I won, she mouthed. Trixie realized then that the two of them were the only ones who recognized the magical suppression for what it was - everyone else was too far away from the fight to feel it, or didn’t have the ability to feel it. They only saw Twilight grab Trixie by the neck, which probably wasn’t strictly legal in a magical duel.

All Trixie had to do was turn around and pick someone else. Maybe that stallion who could fence? He looked like a noble and nobility could always help a smart and upwardly-mobile pony like Trixie…

But. But. “Celestia damn it,” Trixie muttered. Shattershield gave her a look, but Trixie was already turning to the colonel. “Colonel. Colonel Jackdaw. Trixie thinks we have… we have our winner.”

She was really going to regret this.

Author's Note

This might be the best chapter I've written for anything in... a long-ass time. Really, I'm happy with it, which is very rare for me.

I'm going to keep chugging away at this story for the first time in a few years, because I'm having such fun writing it. Dunno if anyone is around that was a reader, but keep me honest!

Next chapter we're going to see more exposition as to how much different this AU is, and where the point of divergence with canon was. This is definitely a more worried, defensive Equestria than we're used to.