Prologue: The King's Gambit
King’s Gambit
*chik*
*chik*
Each swing of his pick sent a shock up his foreleg. The opaque crystal came apart in chunks which clattered to the ground around him. In all of his years in the mine, he’d never seen such a thick vein of it before. The same thought crossed the minds of most of the miners. Some of them saw it as great fortune, others a dark omen. Personally he didn’t really know or care which was the case. He kept his head down, did his job, and focused on trying to make a living.
*chik*
*chik*
He glanced down at the pile of crystal that had collected at his hooves, then looked around him for one of the zebras whose job it was to collect it. Not seeing one, he continued.
*chik*
*chik*
*chuk*
That was a strange noise. He tapped the crystal with the broad side of his pick.
*chuk*
The sound was deeper, and reverberated oddly through the crystal. He weighed his options. He could continue, assuming there was no problem, or he could alert the foreman, and have him come check it out. On one hoof, it was probably nothing and the foreman would just yell at him; on the other hoof if there was a problem, he’d get yelled at too. His ears flattened in annoyance at his predicament. After a few more seconds of deliberation he decided to alert the foreman, at least that way he got to stop swinging that blasted pick for a few minutes.
He slipped the mining pick off of his hoof, and stretched his legs. After his spine gave a few grateful pops, he started following the string of lanterns along the wall back to the surface. The entire mine was a maze, dark and labyrinthine; it was not unheard of for green miners to get lost for days at a time.
After a few minutes of stumbling he finally reached the lift. Blindingly bright light streamed down, drawing a harsh line between the dark of the mine and desert above. The light felt like daggers in his eyes, but he didn’t avert his gaze or squint; the light of day was always a welcome sight. Besides, he thought, the more quickly his eyes adjusted, the sooner the pain would subside.
He got on the wooden platform, letting the sunlight instantly wipe away the cold of the depths. Reaching out with his neck, he grabbed a rope that dangled down from the surface. With a sharp yank a bell could be heard up above. After a few minutes of patient waiting, an activity greatly preferred to mining, the platform started to rise slowly. This mine was one of the oldest in Zudan, and still used a lot of the old methods and technology. Usually he uttered curses to the primitive lift, eager to be home, but today he was quite content to let it take as much time as it needed; especially as the midday sun warmed his striped coat.
Upon reaching the top he thanked lift operator and scanned around for the foreman. He eventually found the young zebra taking a nap in the shade of one of the scattered, shrubby trees that dotted the landscape.
This wasn’t going to go over very well. He approached the foreman and tried to get his attention. “Um, sir? Sir?” Nothing. He tapped him with a hoof and tried again. “Sir, I need you to check something out.”
The foreman opened his eyes reluctantly. “Huh, what? What is it?”
“I need you to check something out, sir.”
“What on Equus is it, now? Spit it out.”
“The crystal I’ve been mining, um,” he didn’t know how to phrase it that wouldn’t make him look silly. He decided to go for vague. “There’s something wrong with it.”
The foreman glared daggers, but got up. “Alright, show me. But I swear, if this is a waste of my time...” the foreman left the promise of bodily harm tacit, but they both knew it was there.
He bid the midday sun farewell and made his way back to the strange sounding crystal.
“Is this it?” The foreman asked, clearly not amused.
“Yes, sir. It sounds hollow, sir,” the miner replied, striking the crystal with his hoof for emphasis. “It’s impossible to tell how big the cave is, I don’t think we should push through. It would be a safety hazard.”
“Nonsense!” the foreman nearly shouted. “You’re just trying to weasel out of work, old coot. Give that here,” he said, grabbing the pick with his mouth and, with a bit of effort, fastening it to his hoof. “Your job is to mine this crystal, not waste my time.” At this, as though to emphasize the last word he said, he struck the crystal hard.
*chukkkkkrrrrrrr*
Hairline cracks radiated from the struck crystal. The foreman removed the offending pick, only to release a small geyser of something dark and wet, which hit the foreman in the face. It reeked of oil.
“Oh, ponyfeathers.”
All at once the crystal before them shattered, releasing a torrent of foul ichor.
* * *
“The symptoms are almost unnoticeable at first: dizziness, nausea; are you getting this?” Reccani asked her secretary, who was busy writing what she dictated. The pen in his mouth rendered him unable to reply; though he did attempt to acknowledge her with a confusing hoofmotion.
He stood at a desk on the far side of the rather plain office, transcribing furiously. “Right. The first symptoms are dizziness and nausea; once metallic sores start appearing on the body it’s far too late.” The King had asked her to write a report on this strange sickness that was rapidly spreading through most of Zudan. “This is accompanied by delirium, and intense pain.”
She paused to take a swig from a flask that sat on her desk, grimacing at the strong taste. “Late stage usually occurs thirty six hours after the first metallic lesions manifest.” She turned to face the office’s sole window, gazing out upon the forest of towering steel structures: the pride of the zebra race. “At this point the subject becomes violent, and seems to lose the ability to reason. The last vestiges of their equinity fade soon after that.”
She heard her secretary finish writing. “Is that all, ma’am?” he asked, dropping the pen from his mouth.
"Yes, I do believe that about covers it. Thank you for your help. You can leave early, I’ll finish up here on my own.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to shirk...” he said.
Reccani just turned back towards him and gave him a small, sad smile. “Go and be with your family. We can worry about this tomorrow.”
She stayed by the window until she saw the younger zebra leave. Once she knew she was alone she walked over to her desk, took out a small vial of colorless liquid, and poured it into what was left of her drink. She glanced once more at the metallic sore that had appeared on her fetlock that morning, and drank deeply.
* * *
The aqueducts of Omzebram were a marvel of engineering, and allowed the kingdom to grow and expand in its infancy. Now in its death throes, it housed the last of the great city, and, perhaps, Kryza thought, the last of his people. It was dark, narrow, and unpleasant, but it gave them fresh water, and, if they kept moving, relative safety. Their only source of light were a few small lamps, and one piddling fire that gave off hardly any light or heat.
Kryza’s eyes ran over the rag-tag group. A couple young zebras, a hoofful of guards, and two foals, barely old enough to walk; no more than thirty zebras in total. Two of them, an older guard and a young zebra, were arguing.
“We need to take back the city! I’m not going to just stay down here, sitting on my hooves, waiting for something to change!”
“What good will throwing your life away do? You’re one of the few of us with any combat experience. What if one of them gets down here?”
“It won’t matter either way. We’re all going to die, son. I want my death to mean something.”
“What about the foals? We can’t just leave them here. Are you suggesting they accompany you on this suicide mission?”
“And what would you suggest we do? We’re rapidly running out of supplies. We can’t live off of water alone. We’re going to have to go up there at some point anyhow!”
“We should run, the aqueduct gets its water from the river, right? We can just follow the river.”
“And you think my plan’s the suicidal one! Tell me, son, have you ever spent the night out there?”
“Enough!” Kryza demanded. Though he no longer wore his regalia, his voice still held the power of royalty. “I will not tolerate any more squabbling. It would be foolish beyond belief to think that we can take back Omzebram, but I also will not leave my people in their greatest time of need,” he rebuked. “And this cataclysm is not solely our own, given time it will spread north. I will not stand idly by as all of Equus suffers for our hubris.
“You want to fight, and you want to leave?” he asked rhetorically, looking at the two zebras who had been arguing. “Well, I shall have need of both of you, and more. We must alert Equestria to the coming darkness. I’ll need volunteers to carry the message.” At this, he looked to the group. “Who will carry the warning?” he asked.
The zebra who had been arguing stepped forward first. After a few more moments five zebras stood before him, each carrying a look of determination. He turned and spoke to the rest of the group, “I’ll also need a few brave souls to serve as the distraction. We need to give these messengers the best possible chance of escape--”
“We’ll do it, your highness.” As one, four of the palace guards that accompanied him stepped forward.
Kryza looked at those who had stepped forward, numbering nearly a third of their group. He wondered if his gambit would pay off, if the sacrifices these zebras were making would save the rest of Equus. He addressed them, “You are brave souls, all. I am proud to call you brothers. Zudan-- no, all of Equus will be in your eternal debt.” After he finished, an uncomfortable silence settled around them. Every zebra present knew that the chances for success were slim, and that not going on either potential suicide mission didn’t mean their situation was any better.
A zebra who had opted for the messenger mission broke the silence. “Uh, your highness? One problem, I don’t speak Equestrian; and I’m certain most of the others here cannot either.”
“Do we have any parchment in our supplies?” Kryza asked quickly. “What about writing utensils? I will write the warning myself.”
They did have some parchment and a pen on hand, though the paper was either folded, crumpled, stained, or a mix of the three. It would have to do. Kryza didn’t spend much time with formalities, nor did he have the space or time to go into any great detail. He kept it short and succinct. After a few minutes of writing he gave one copy of the letter to each of the messengers.
“Come the first light of dawn we will make our move. The diversionary force will exit the aqueduct in the fountain district. Get their attention and lead them south to the royal district. The couriers shall give you ten minutes head start before leaving and traveling north.” He looked to the message carriers, “Don’t travel together. Take different avenues. When you get to the Everfree, remember that nothing is as it seems. Stay low and move quickly,” he advised them urgently. “Now, rest. Tomorrow promises to be an important day.”
Exodus
“Are you certain, Tia?” Luna asked quietly; despite her volume, her voice rang through the meeting chamber. It was a rather small affair, situated just off of the throne room--a place for meetings somewhere between the public court and the sister’s private chambers. It was ringed by marble pillars that seemed to serve no functional purpose other than to appear regal, while having the unfortunate side effect of amplifying Luna’s already powerful voice. A bookshelf and a number of cushioned seats were the only pieces of furniture in the room, which they sat in the middle of, the ring of pillars making any more economic usage of space impossible.
“Luna, I know you’re still feeling some element of discomfort, but I need your help. Hiding away won’t help your reconciliation with our people,” Celestia stated firmly, the day’s fading light casting long shadows across the small room. “And the Gala is the perfect place to start. The Council of Lords, and the chief of every bureau, large and small, will be there. It’s important that they see you standing with me, leading with me.”
“I know you are right, you usually are. Yet, I cannot help but fear. Back then, before... before I embraced Nightmare, it was all I wanted. I craved their adoration, now I fear asking for it again.”
“Didn’t my student show you the flaw of that sort of thought? The ponies of today know not of your sins, they know only of the legend. Times have changed, the stories of the past have faded into legend, I’ve made sure of that.”
Luna sighed heavily, “Not a day goes by, dear sister, that I am not reminded that ‘times have changed’. The week prior I saw a guard with unshorn fetlocks, just cantering about!” Luna smiled, giggling a little, instantly breaking the pall cast by past sins.
A small smile crept on Celestia’s face, as well. Luna had been smiling more freely as of late. It might take a few more years, Celestia thought, but soon she would have her little sister back.
“Celestia, have the other nations been made aware of my return?” Luna asked levelly, her mirth drying up as suddenly as it came.
“I have instructed the Intelligence Bureau to spread fliers to many of the border towns to the north. I am hoping that if the Griffons hear the “Scourge of Nine Peaks” has returned, they might not eye our land so wolfishly.” Celestia looked carefully at her sister, gauging her response to the name. If she had any, she gave no intimation.
“And the Zebras?” Luna inquired.
“I have not. Luna, Zudan and Equestria have been allies since they overthrew the Grey Tyrant eight hundred years ago. I am waiting for a time to tell them that will not risk our good relations.”
Luna gasped, looking as though she had been struck by lightening. “They killed Salzem? How? He was for all intents and purposes immortal, more so even than ourselves!”
“That is quite a tale,” Celestia chuckled. “Do you remember Kryssa, the young zebra that stole your tiara? Well, her great grandson--” she was interrupted as a short gray unicorn burst through the door. Panting, he quickly shut it behind him as though to seal some evil that chased him.
“Excuse me!” he said much more loudly than was necessary. “Excuse me, Princesses. Your highness,” he bowed hurriedly to Luna, then addressed Celestia, “There is a mad zebra en route to this very room. I don’t know what he wants--I don’t think he even speaks equestrian--” he was interrupted as the doors behind him flew open, knocking him to the side, admitting an out of breath Zebra into the room.
Celestia did not know what to make of him. He had clearly been on the road for some time; his coat was dusty and matted with sweat and his eyes carried a wild energy to them--they were the eyes of someone being hunted. When his gaze met Celestia’s, his face lit up in recognition, and instantly relaxed, as though some burden was lifted. He craned his neck back to a saddlebag and withdrew a crumpled note. With a flick of his head he tossed it at Celestia, landing on the floor between them. Between ragged pants he sputtered a few sparse phrases in zebrani before collapsing into a pile on the floor.
“Dotted?” Celestia asked.
“Yes, your highness?” the gray stallion intoned.
“Please take this zebra to the guest wing, and inform the nurse that he will need to be checked up on.”
“Certainly, your highness.”
The sound of crashing hooves echoed through the open door, “Stop right there, criminal scum! Nopony breaks the law on--” Two guardsponies burst into the room, which was rapidly becoming quite crowded, and tripped over the recumbent zebra.
“You two, good timing,” Dotted Line said sardonically. He looked at the zebra, “If he wasn’t unconscious before, he certainly is now. I need you two to take him to the guest wing, and make sure the resident nurse knows to check in on him.” He sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead gingerly. “I am running on distant memories of caffeine and rapidly dwindling reserves of goodwill; this incident requires no less than thirty seven pieces of paperwork to be filed, twelve heads of department alerted, and at least one press release scheduled to be postponed, so if you’ll excuse me...” Dotted stormed out of the room.
The two guardsponies collectively shook their heads, looked at one another, and shrugged, before unceremoniously dragging the zebra out of the room.
“Some things I am not sure I shall get used to...” Luna remarked.
“To be honest, Luna,” Celestia replied, “I don’t think we’ll ever get used to it.” Celestia’s horn lit up as she gently shut the doors, which had seen more than enough wear and tear for the day.
“What is it?” Luna asked, looking at the letter on the floor of the chamber.
“It doesn’t bear any seal, nor was it handled with any real care.” Celestia said, as she picked up and unfolded the letter. She began reading, “Dearest Celestia, Zudan is lost. We delved too greedily, too deep. I know not what we awoke, but it has consumed us. Evacuate your towns near the Everfree, and ready your armies, it comes for you next. Signed Kryza III, King of Zudan.”
Luna’s face went stonier than usual while she listened. The emotion that she eventually landed on was a mix of incredulity and anger. “What striped-devil trickery is this?” Luna exclaimed, lapsing into the royal canterlot voice. “Where didst we taketh the messenger? We are in need of answers.”
“Luna, please, you must put the past behind you if you are to expect the ponies to do the same,” Celestia rebuked. “The message is very vague, it makes no mention of what exactly ‘consumed them’, nor what exactly they mean by ‘Zudan is lost’. We are the only country that could assault them by land, and there is nothing to be gained by a costly invasion by sea.”
Luna, still visibly on edge, leaned in close and examined the manuscript. “It does not carry the Zudanese royal seal. We cannot be certain it actually carries royal authority.”
“Perhaps, though we both know that it is possible to forge a royal seal, that wouldn’t prove its origin either,” Celestia stated. “And even if we assume subterfuge, what good would they have in telling us to rally our armies? I’m afraid to disregard this, ponies might be hurt.”
“Are you suggesting we mobilize our armies?” Luna asked incredulously, “How long has it been since we have done that? Our people would be greatly alarmed, and it would show weakness to the griffons to the north. I do not see merit in creating an opening on our northern border just to chase some dubious phantom.”
Celestia didn’t respond immediately, instead she let her sister’s voice echo gently around her. After a few moments of thought she responded, “I agree completely.”
“You do?”
“Certainly, that is why I will lead a diplomatic mission to Zudan myself.” Celestia stated matter of factly, stressing the word ‘diplomatic’.
“What? Nonsense, I will not suffer such foolishness, sister,” Luna rebuked. “If action must be taken, we will send another. We can send the Wonderbolts to scan the area--”
“The Wonderbolts are in Vanhoover performing, they will not be back in Canterlot for a fortnight.” Celestia responded.
“Then we shall have to send a diplomat, there is no need for you to go.”
“The very reason we need reconnaissance is because of this letter, which promises imminent threat from an unknown source. I will not send a civilian to their demise, Luna, you know I will not.”
“Well, then I shall be the one to go! Was it not I who governed Equestria in matters militaristic and foreign?”
“Yes, but intelligence, Luna, was my domain; and what we need is not force; we need information. Furthermore, I think it not wise to send you to the zebras just yet. As I mentioned before, they haven’t been made aware of your return.” Celestia said, her voice brooking no argument. “I’m just as capable of a combatant as you, I will be able to ascertain what this threat is, if it exists, all the while appearing as a diplomat. No troop movements, no panic, no weakness; when I return we will see what needs to be done.”
“Very well, there is no arguing with you when you set your mind to something, Tia. I acquiesce.”
Celestia grinned softly, “And in the meantime, you must lead in my stead.”
“What? Tia, no. They do not yet trust me, they will think myself a usurper!”
“Nonsense, Luna. Now, walk with me,” she said, getting up and moving towards the door. “I have a lot of events that need my attention, and now they pass to you.”
Luna’s groan could be heard halfway to Ponyville.
She didn’t wave as her sister departed, it would be unbecoming of her station; her heart, though, followed her sister closely. She had insisted in following the small entourage to the edge of Canterlot, and continued to stand on the threshold until Celestia vanished around one of the circuitous bends on the path down Mt. Avalon.
She turned to the Unicorn beside her, who seemed quite preoccupied adjusting the chain he wore around his neck, the symbol of his office--though Luna forgot which one exactly. “Dotted, was it?”
“Yes, your highness,” he said, releasing the chain, which fell back no more even than it was before. “Dotted Hieronymus Line, Cabinet Secretary.” The phrase rang of one said many times before, and one that will certainly be said many more.
“Very well, Mr. Secretary, we may return to the castle now,” Luna stated with authority. The pair turned and departed, headed back towards the castle proper. “Please remind me, what must be done today?”
“Well, your highness, there are hoofful of laws and edicts that are being drafted that need your attention, arrangements need to be made concerning the Gala, and of course there’s the Day Court, which I’m to understand you’ll be, erm, subbing in for.”
“Myself? The Day Court?” she sighed heavily, “If ever I have heard of trouble...” Luna allowed the sentence to trail off before continuing, “When does my sister typically hold the Day Court?”
“Oh, um,” Dotted stammered, glancing to the heavens--either for strength or to measure the angle of the sun on the sky, Luna wasn’t certain. “About an hour ago.”
“So, not only will I suddenly be appearing in place of my sister, I will be doing so late?”
“It would appear so, your highness.”
“What would you advise I do about this?” Luna asked.
“Well, considering the rather sudden nature of Celestia’s absence, we haven’t had a chance to make a press release--but neither did we try to hide it. Even without the fanfare, I’m certain some ponies noticed.” The more Dotted seemed to think about it, the more his grimace deepened. “And we can’t really have you just appearing at the Court like you run... in any case it will be shocking, and ponies are a panicky people on the best of days--nobles doubly so.”
“Mr. Secretary,” Luna interjected, “I do not think any amount of ‘press releases’ would make them any more comfortable with the situation.”
“Yes, but it’s nothing we can’t handle, your highness!” Dotted’s tone clearly indicated optimism, but his voice rang a bit hollow. “This isn’t anything the Equestrian Civil Service hasn’t dealt with before. Just... reschedule the Court session, and I’ll yell, erm, talk to the Press Secretary about how we are going to handle this.”
“Very well, reschedule it for later this afternoon, say around seven o’clock?”
“Of course, your highness.” Dotted replied, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a Press Secretary to badger.” Dotted proceeded to run off. Luna marveled that anypony with legs that short could move that quickly.
The library was a mess. Books were strewn across the wooden floor, lists hung from the rafters, and if that weren’t enough, Twilight’s bed was suspended upside down in the living room.
“Spike!” Twilight called, “Spike? Where’s my quill?”
A muffled response came from below a nearby pile of books, “Did you check behind your ear?”
“Ah! Found it!” Twilight cheered, “It was behind my ear the entire time! Don’t I look silly? Spike, where are you?”
The young dragon dislodged himself from the books with a groan. “You know, for such an organized pony, you sure lose things a lot.” Spike dusted himself off, coughing from the debris in the air. “And why are we freaking out again, is it a test? Did you forget to make a list--”
“Spike!” Twilight interjected, “Princess Celestia is on her way to Zudan! That means she’s going to pass through Ponyville! She didn’t even give us enough warning to get anything together!” Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her eye twitched. “And what would happen if we didn’t welcome her? She might be so insulted that she’d levy a horrendous tax on us to help pay for the psychological damage we inflicted on her! Then we’d have to slash the budget! All of it! We wouldn’t be able to afford to pay our teachers, or our police, or our firefighters! Then Ponyville would be reduced to a bunch of stupid criminal ponies stealing from burning buildings! That is why--Spike, that is why it is imperative we get a welcoming party ready for Princess Celestia before she gets here!”
At this point several veins could be seen standing out of Twilight’s temples, and the state of her mane could be described as ‘ragged’ at best. Spike, though, remained unfazed. “Alright, Twi, what’s first on the list?” Spike asked, walking over to the desk where the list lay, quill in claw.
“You stay here and... um... clean this place up. I’m going to Sugarcube Corner! I’ll need to place an emergency order of the Princess’s favorite cake. While I’m there I’ll also see if I can modify Pinkie’s Party Cannon to better suit the nature of our needs; it might be the only way, considering our time constraints.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Spike said with a sigh. “Though, one of these days, I’d like to not be the one stuck in the library cleaning up--it’s practically all I do anymore.”
“I understand that you’re frustrated, but now is not the time to discuss it--this is an emergency!” Twilight said, putting far more emphasis on the last word than what was needed. She grabbed the list off the desk with a bit of telekinesis, and started marching to the door, pleased that she always had extra copies of her all-important lists on hoof for such emergencies. Twilight reached out to the door, opening it, and rushing out--right into the rather imposing figure of Princess Celestia.
“Oof!” Twilight squeaked, falling on the library’s old wooden floor. After regaining her bearings, she looked up at Celestia, Princess of the Sun, Ruler of the Land, Steward of the Pony race, and an hour early. “P-Princess Celestia!” Twilight stammered. “Oh no. Oh no, no, no-no. You weren’t supposed to be here yet, we’re not ready!”
Celestia just looked down and smiled, “Twilight, it’s fine. I sent the letter on such short notice because I didn’t want you to overreact and try to plan anything extravagant--we’re in a hurry.”
“So, you’re not going to levy a crippling tax on us to pay for the mental trauma our lack-of-welcoming party, a tax which would render Ponyville a desolate ghost town run by a bunch of uneducated criminal ponies living in burning buildings?”
“Twilight...” Celestia said, raising her eyebrow.
“Right, Princess. Perhaps you’ll allow me to remove the hoof I seem to have placed in my mouth?” she asked sheepishly.
“Of course, Twilight. Consider your mouth now vacant of all figurative extremities.” Celestia said with a smile.
“Okay then!” Twilight beamed, “Now that I no longer have a figurative hoof in my mouth, I have replaced it with a literal question: why are you going to Zudan? This is all quite sudden.”
Celestia paused for a moment, the sun behind her head casting a brilliant corona around her thoughtful face. Twilight idly wondered if Celestia had to put any effort in looking so regal. Before she had time to begin distinguishing the variables of regalness her thoughts were interrupted by the Princess's response.
“Twilight, it has been some time since I last visited Zudan, and the zebras are a close ally of our people. I am visiting to meet the new king, and to reavow our friendship.” Celestia craned her neck back looking towards the Everfree, the vast forest separating Equestria and Zudan. “We’ve been planning this trip for months; I apologize for giving you relatively short notice on the matter--but the only reason why I chose this avenue of travel was because I have a request for you, my most faithful student.”
Twilight’s response was swift and unwavering: “Anything, Princess.”
Celestia nodded in assent, turning her head back to face Twilight’s. “I would like for you to travel to Canterlot to organize the upcoming Grand Galloping Gala.”
Twilight let out a small gasp of incredulity, “But, Princess, I’m not really any good with formal functions or parties, perhaps you should ask Rarity or Pinkie Pie?”
Celestia gently shook her head, “No, Twilight. I need you for this. Was it not due to your organizational skills that Ponyville wrapped up winter on time for the first time in generations? Don’t lose sight of your strengths,” Celestia chided her. “Regardless, I think this will be an important step for you to take in your studies--that is why I ask.”
Twilight trotted over to her calendar and glanced over it, “How long will I need to be in Canterlot? Do you have a set date in mind for the Gala? How many ponies will be attending this year? Who do you usually contract for food and entertainment--” Twilight rattled off questions in lightning-quick succession before being interrupted by her mentor.
“Twilight, all the necessary information awaits you in the castle, and if you have any further questions, feel free to ask Luna.”
Twilight, bereft of questions, seemed lost. She turned to her mentor, who still stood in the doorway, with her forehoof raised questioningly. “Princess, this is awfully short notice, is everything alright?”
“Everything is fine, Twilight,” Celestia said calmly.
Suitably relieved, Twilight smiled. “Would you like to come in for some tea?”
“I’m afraid not. We still have quite a ways to travel if we’re to cross the Everfree before the sun sets,” She said with a disarming smile. “We’re burning daylight,” she deadpanned.
After Celestia said her goodbyes, and left, Twilight turned to Spike. “Looks like we have a new list to make.”
Spike’s groan did not escape the tree, though it was quite loud.
Luna approached the large, drab building aggressively, the manner she approached most things, really. She opened the doors aggressively, and she aggressively marched towards the secretary sitting behind the front desk. “I desire to see the grounds,” she stated aggressively. The tan mare briefly shook in place as though afraid, a reaction Luna knew well. She decided to push forward. “Please tell the Secretary of Defense that the Princess of the Night requests their presence.” Luna stated.
The tan mare shook her head, her eyes again focusing on Luna. “Uh, right away your highness!” She said, then managing to bow while simultaneously leaving the room, a feat Luna had not thought possible until then.
Once again alone, Luna’s thoughts drifted to the past. The old building had been freshly built the last time she was here, but now its age showed. To Luna the past had always been an old friend, filled with fond memories and bittersweet regrets. Her return, though, had been more jarring than most realized. When she was finally released from Nightmare’s grip, she was left in a place filled with an alien past. No longer her friend of old, the past had become something so strange and abstract that she felt constantly under assault. Celestia was the only pony that understood the profound unease of an immortal out of her time. She didn’t want to think about what it would be like if she weren’t around.
The secretary either had moved quickly, or Luna had spent more time lost in thought than she realized. She returned followed by a pale green mare with a rather severe manecut, and wearing the uniform of an off-duty soldier.
“Your highness,” she greeted Luna levelly, with a short bow. “The Secretary is busy at the moment, she sent me. How may I help you?”
Luna appreciated her forthrightness and smiled a little. “I have yet to visit the barracks since my return. I wish to remedy this. Perhaps you could show me the grounds? I do not remember the building being this,” Luna paused briefly seeking the right word, “immense.”
“Very well, your highness. If you’ll follow me.” The mare said, gesturing down a side passage.
The stone floors of the building were cold and uninviting, and a shallow path was ground in the center from repeated use. Where Castle Canterlot was all marble and alabaster, form before function; the structure they were in now was much more utilitarian, a style that Luna appreciated. Plain serviceable windows lined one side of the hallway, and sturdy oaken doors on the other. Luna did not recognize, however, many of the other buildings that had been attached haphazardly to the structure since she was last here.
“The building we’re in now is the old barracks. It used to be the primary housing for the royal guard--”
“I am aware,” Luna interjected, “As you might recall, I am much older than I look,” she said reproachfully, earning a slight blush of embarrassment from her guide. “I am much more curious regarding the more recently constructed edifices.”
“There haven’t been anything added to the complex in centuries...” The guide began before realizing her folly. “Ah, right. Perhaps you should come this way then.” She said turning around and leading Luna down a number of claustrophobic corridors until one opened to a courtyard ringed by various structures of similarly various architecture and design. A number of ponies crossed the lawn, heading towards one building or another. It occurred to Luna that they could probably access most of the vast structure indoors, but the courtyard allowed for a short-cut of sorts mixed with some fresh air.
“The entire complex is sometimes called ‘the Bulwark’ because of its stodgy appearance, and the fact that it clashes so much with the rest of Canterlot; though it may not be pretty, this is the brain of the entire Equestrian military.” She began pointing at the various buildings with her hoof. “The small cluster of buildings over there,” she said, gesturing towards a number of buildings that weren’t connected to the rest, “is the Royal Military Academy, where we train our officers; the building we just left also holds a number of classrooms. The building across the lawn from us is the Command Center, where most of the ponies who run the military, well, run the military. And that building over there,” she gestured towards a rather tall building that connected the entire complex to the palace proper. “That is where we house the Royal Guard as well as the portion of the Equestrian Guard that are on duty.”
“And what of our standing armies?” Luna inquired.
“Well, we have a number of fortresses and strongholds along our northern border with the griffons that we keep well ponied, but other than that we mostly rely on the Equestrian Guard to deal with any sort of local insurrection.”
“What is your name, soldier?” Luna asked.
“Private Green Pastures, ma’am,” Green responded, standing up a bit straighter, eyes focusing off in the distance behind the Princess.
“Might I ask you a... personal question, Private Pastures?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she replied, still staring into the distance.
“What is your special talent?”
“I’m a gardener, ma’am,” she said simply.
“You’re not a soldier, why do you serve?” Luna asked thoughtfully.
“We’re a peaceful folk, ma’am. Not very many ponies have a talent for war, and, plainly speaking, ma’am, I don’t really trust the ones that do.”
“Yes, I suppose this is the case; but I asked why you served, Pastures.”
She blinked once, her eyes once again focusing on Luna, and she paused before she replied as though the answer should have been obvious, “Well, somepony has to, right? And if that somepony has to keep being somepony else, we all suffer for it.”
Luna thought about this for a moment before giving the soldier a small smile. “A truer statement I have not heard in some time. Green Pastures, it was a pleasure, however there are things that require my attention. I shall take my leave now. Goodbye.” At this Luna spread her wings and, with a strong stroke, took off, leaving a befuddled earth pony in her wake.
She headed towards the palace. The rescheduled Day Court was rapidly approaching, but first there was something that required her attention. To most it was a matter that required no thought, to most it was just something that happened. If Luna had any say in the matter, it would stay that way. She hoped her people never had to find out the answer to the question: what would happen if they didn’t raise the sun, or bring the night?
Luna landed gracefully on the balcony of the highest tower of the castle. She chose the spot for her chambers because of its unobstructed view of the night sky, she thought it important to have a clear view of her canvas. She looked at the sun as it descended closer to the horizon, feeling the bond of her sister’s spell weakening in the still air. She focused on it, tuning all else out; the spell she would cast would need to line up closely with Celestia’s spell’s fading. As the sun cast its final, most brilliant rays of light across the sky, she knew it was time. She focused on the moon, calling into her mind’s eye not only its shape, but its size, and its voice. It was something she couldn’t quite explain to another using words, but the moon spoke to her, and she understood it. Focusing on this bond, she drew on her its strength, acting as a conduit for vast amounts of magical energy.
Just then she heard a voice behind her, “Your highness, I’m sorry for the interruption, but the Day Court...” his voice trailed off briefly. “What are you doing?”
Luna spoke without turning her attention from the sky, “Spotted, was it?”
“Dotted.”
“Dotted, I am currently preoccupied channeling enough raw magical energy to literally craft the night sky from naught but will alone,” she said icily. “What is it?”
“Your highness, your presence is requested,” Dotted replied, sounding as though the end of his rope was at least five hours ago, “at the Court of the Midday Sun... and just before attending this court, you’re setting the sun. I’m certain the symbolism isn’t lost on you, as it certainly won’t be lost on those attending said court.”
“I quite simply do not care, Mr. Secretary,” Luna said matter-of-factly. “I respect you and all that you do to keep Equestria running, however what is at stake here is more than just Equestria, all of Equus depends on this. For this reason, Dotted, I do not care whether or not this act inconveniences you or me, because I will inconvenience a thousand ponies a thousand times to maintain balance for all.”
Luna looked up at her hoofwork and smiled.
“That’s a very nice sky, Luna,” Dotted said behind her.
Luna just smiled and turned her head to face Dotted. “Very well then, Mr. Secretary. Let us attend this Day Court. What is the worst that could happen?”
The sun had set, and they had not yet escaped the Everfree. The forest seemed to draw in around them, and shapes danced just outside their field of view. Celestia couldn’t tell, though, if her escorts were phased in the slightest. She traveled at the head of the group, beside her was Captain Aegis. Behind them two guardsponies drew a small cart carrying, among other things, food, tents, gifts for the zebras, should they actually make it to Zudan without issue; and magical surveying equipment. Two guardsponies drew up the rear. Celestia had chosen their number with great care: few enough to avoid undue attention, but a sufficient amount scout effectively.
“Permission to speak freely, your highness?” Captain Aegis asked, breaking the relative silence.
“Permission granted, Captain. What is on your mind?”
“We noticed the equipment in the cart. This isn’t actually a diplomatic mission, is it?” he asked, his voice betraying no emotion.
“Indeed it is not, at least not exclusively.”
“Then what are we doing?” Captain Aegis asked carefully.
Celestia figured she had left them in the dark enough. “Captain, we received a cryptic letter from a zebra messenger yesterday warning of a potential threat against Equestria. We are here to gauge the situation. The plan is to set up camp at the far edge of the Everfree, and to gather information. If we do not find anything noteworthy in a week, we shall discard the survey equipment and continue to Zudan to discuss this letter and its implications with the King.”
Celestia finished and silence once again took the throne, interrupted only by the quiet creak of wooden wagon wheels and the wildlife that surrounded them, unseen but not unheard. Celestia glanced skyward, sad that her view of her sister’s sky was mostly obstructed by the canopy above them. She hoped that sending Twilight to Canterlot was the right play to make. Though removing herself from the picture would certainly force Luna to act, she was afraid that dismantling the entirety of her support structure might lead to unforeseen consequences. Hopefully her gambit would pay off, though. Hopefully Luna would rise to the occasion, and their people would forgive her.
Celestia sighed aloud, she really didn’t like depending on so many uncertainties.
“Is something wrong, your highness?” Captain Aegis asked.
“Hmm?” Celestia intoned. “Oh, no. I’m quite fine, Captain,” she said her smile lost in the gathering dark.
Celestia’s ears perked. Something changed. There was still the creak of the cart, but no longer the sound of the forest. She she slowed to a stop, causing the cart to stop behind her. Captain Aegis looked around quickly, eyes turning to pinpricks. Something was not right. That was when the odor hit her like a punch in the snout. It reeked of iron and oil. The foul smell surrounded them quickly, settling in like an invisible fog.
“Form up! Protect the Princess!” Aegis shouted, his voice seeming unusually quiet, as though the space around them absorbed the sound. The other guardsponies abandoned the cart and began to form a circle around her.
That was when it happened. It came hurtling out of the brush beside them. It was roughly stone shaped, and rolled to a stop near the group. The device quickly began hissing and emitting a foul black smoke. It billowed around them, covering the group in inky darkness.
After that all was chaos. Metal clashed with metal, the cacophony occasionally punctuated by a scream. First Celestia used her magic, channeling a pure light from her horn. The light was eaten by the darkness around her. Another pony screamed. Thinking quickly Celestia spread her wings wide, and with a few strong beats she managed to clear some of the area immediately surrounding her.
“To me, ponies!” she yelled. Hearing her voice, three guardsponies broke through the smog, each sporting a series of shallow gashes that bled freely.
Something moved through the smoke. “Protect the Princess!” Aegis called again, his voice steel. There was a sound of metal unwinding, and something shot out of the haze. Moving quickly Aegis leapt to intercept the missile. It slammed into him, piercing armor and flesh easily. Time seemed to slow as Celestia and Aegis looked at one another. She seemed surprised. So did he.
The metal lodged in his side drew taut, and he screamed. Celestia could do little more than watch as he was dragged, kicking into the smog. After another moment, the screams stopped.
Something heavy slammed into her side, sending her to the ground. She shoved at it with a blast of magical force, throwing it off of her. With the help of her free wing, she quickly righted herself, finally getting to see her assailant. At first glance it seemed almost equine in nature, it had four legs and a head, but that’s where the similarities ended. Its flesh was warped and studded with metallic spines, and its legs seemed unnaturally long. Where its face should have been there was only a metal plate. It was hideous.
Celestia didn’t care, she blasted it with a beam of intense sunlight. It had the desired effect, the beam ripped through its body. Metal screamed and flesh sizzled, but the thing remained silent, unwilling or unable to make a sound. As it died it folded into itself. After it seemed unable to get any smaller, It shuddered violently, releasing a volley of the spines that covered its body in all directions. Reacting as quickly as she could, Celestia threw up a shield of magical force. She could feel the reverberations as each spine struck her shield. She heard another scream. Pain blossomed in her chest and she realized it was her own.
Everything lost focus, and seemed to fade from sight. She was no longer in the Everfree, rather she seemed suspended in a void. She looked around, or at least she tried. It was hard to tell if it had any discernable effect, as everywhere she tried to “look” it all seemed exactly the same: an endless sea of black. Celestia did not know what to feel, the one thing that she was certain of, however, was that she did not want to be here. She had to find a way out.
Celestia selected an arbitrary direction and began walking, or at least tried. The idea of movement lost most of its meaning when you seem to be in the same place regardless of your efforts. Suddenly she felt something tug at the core of her being. She began following this, feeling. After what seemed simultaneously ages and seconds, she saw a sort of light in the distance. As she neared it the light coalesced into a gateway. Celestia did the only logical thing to do when met with an ethereal portal suspended in an eternal void: she went in.
Author's Note
"I am running on distant memories of caffeine and rapidly dwindling reserves of goodwill" is borrowed directly from Whom the Princesses Would Destroy. All credit for that excellent wordplay goes to Ghost.
Landfall
Luna rubbed at her eyes with a hoof. She had not gotten much sleep, but she and her sister had always spent dawn and dusk together, and habit is hard to break. Luna got out of bed, and stretched each of her legs separately. Next she spread her wings, and quickly set a few ruffled feathers straight. There was more to her morning routine, but first she wanted to see the sun. Normally this was a nightly ritual for her, the last thing she did before retiring, a literal and figurative passing of the guard. Now, though, it was mostly a comfort.
Luna went to the balcony and gazed out on the last vestiges of night. She knew that somewhere out there, Celestia was looking up at the same sky as her, and a smile spread across her face. She felt the last of her spell unwind around her, like a spool running out of thread. Luna looked to the horizon.
Nothing. Strange, it was not like Celestia to be tardy in such matters. Luna waited a few moments more, eyes scanning the horizon. The air was still and cold, and the night did not relinquish itself. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
For a moment she forgot how to breathe, then, as if to make up for it, she began to inhale in rapid, panicked gasps. She had to do something. She knew that during her exile Celestia had controlled both day and night on her own, but she didn’t know how. She never asked Celestia how she had done both, or even how she influenced the sun. Did it even operate in a similar manner to the moon?
She reached out to the sun, which she assumed was past the horizon. She felt nothing. It was as if it wasn’t there—or rather it was there, she knew, but she couldn’t feel it. All she felt was the night lingering around her, lingering without purpose. She tried again, listening for the song of the sun. She knew something was there, but she couldn’t sense anything. It was like trying to read a book without having the eyes to see it—it was there, practically in her hooves, and yet she was helpless. What else was there? What was she missing?
Sweat was beginning to cling to her coat, which in turn felt like ice in the night air. She did her best to ignore it, instead concentrating on the problem before her. She knew that it had to be possible, failure was not an option. If she couldn’t reach the sun, could the moon have likewise shunned her sister during her exile? How did she do it? The night was her domain, not the day. How, then, did she affect it?
An idea occurred to her. Perhaps if she attempted to unmake the night, it might coax out the sun. Luna closed her eyes and concentrated, focusing on the song of the moon, channeling the energy towards her purpose. She tried willing the night to fade. She could feel the moon respond, though it did not do as she bid. She could feel the power was still there, a huge source of magic waiting to be tapped. She was on the right track. Luna once again focused on the moon, bringing to mind every aspect of it. She heard its song. Rather than using this bond to craft the night, she willed it towards a different end: raising the sun.
She attempted to find the sun again, and once again failed. The magic she drew from the moon began straining against her. She had missed a step. Frantically she searched past the horizon for the sun, but it was all the same nothing. She felt something wet drip down her muzzle and splatter the stone beneath her, breaking her focus. A quick wipe with her fetlock confirmed that it was blood. Luna looked out, not at the sky, but at Equestria. It was but one nation on the face of Equus. It seemed strange to her that her nation—her people were such small, fragile things, when looking at the larger scale—
All at once she realized what she was doing wrong. She was looking for it as though it were analogous of the moon. In truth it was much bigger, and much further away. What she had sensed before, and been unable to find, was in truth but a small fraction of it. She suddenly felt very small.
A sudden sharp pain interrupted her daze. She needed to channel this energy, and now. She closed her eyes and began casting. Crafting the spell was not simple. The spell she used to craft the night was like weaving a tapestry, taking lots of delicate care—by comparison the spell to raise the sun was like forging a chain out of pure will. Luna could feel the magic straining against her as she channeled, causing her muscles to occasionally spasm, and her breathing to come in shallow gasps.
She didn’t open her eyes until the first rays of light hit them. Luna couldn’t help but feel a chill go up her spine as she saw the sun poking its head over the horizon, something about it was different. The light lacked something, perhaps brilliance? Warmth? It failed to give her any comfort, serving instead to reinforce the mounting sensation of dread. If she just raised the sun, that meant...
A strong shiver wracked her body, interrupting the unpleasant line of thought. Luna got up and took stock of herself. She felt as though she had just been through a battle, and she suspected that she probably looked the part as well. Luna stumbled back into her room, and headed towards the bathroom. Unwelcome thoughts returned again, but she ignored them, keeping her focus on simply getting to the shower.
Luna opened the shower stall with her hoof, too tired to use magic, turned on the hot water, and half fell in. After a few moments the hot water began pouring out of the showerhead, and ran down her body, taking away some of the soreness along with with it.
It dawned on her exactly what she had just done, and everything it meant. There was much to do, and time was not on her side.
Celestia looked up at a sun that wasn’t hers, and for the first time in centuries knew fear. She forced herself to look away, not because the sun was hurting her eyes, but because the truth it represented hurt even worse. Instead she looked down at the shard of metal lodged in her chest, right where her left leg met her body. Yes, this, while painful, was a problem that could be solved.
The missile hadn’t pierced deeply enough to reach her heart—her continued breathing was testament to that. She didn’t know, however, how deeply it had pierced. She probed at the wound with her magic.
A bolt of pain coursed through her body, filling her veins with fire and making it impossible to breath for several seconds after. Celestia gave herself a few minutes to recover, the pain eventually subsiding to merely tremendous. The metal was in deep enough that taking it out would risk a lot of blood loss.
Celestia didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what to do, and that fact, she realized, cut more deeply than the metal lodged in her chest. She needed to go back. She had to be there for Equestria. How long until they learned of the threat? Equestria was ill prepared for any invasion from the south—
Celestia, with great effort, quieted her mind. It was vital that she focused on the now before worrying about the rest, and she had plenty to worry about now. She needed food, water, shelter, fire, and treatment for her wound. Taking in a deep breath, she looked carefully at her surroundings. She currently sat on the uppermost boughs of a great tree, easily larger than any she had seen before. The trees themselves defied all logical order, seeming to grow helically, spiraling around some invisible force. The air was oddly still, but the sound of creaking could be heard all around, as though the trees themselves were speaking. Because of this, or perhaps due to something else, the entire environment seemed to vibrate on a low frequency, lending a peculiar activity to the air, a thrum that put her on edge. Lifting her gaze skyward, she saw a number of strange floating stones. It was hard to tell how large they were because of the distance, but it was clear that their size varied to some extent. It was quite surreal, actually. The forest seemed virtually untouched and uninhabited except for those strange watchers.
She began to get up, but a ripping pain in her left leg caused her to fall back down. She examined her wound once more, which was seeping more blood that it had previously. Celestia silently chided herself for her foolishness. She would have to be monumentally careful moving forward if she didn’t want to bleed out.
This time she clumsily rose leaning on her left wing, being very careful to move her wounded side as little as possible. Celestia took a brief moment to lament the fact that ponies didn’t typically wear clothes, as she lacked the basic materials to construct a sling.
Carefully she spread her wings wide and took a few tentative beats. No sharp pain. She could fly. She glanced skyward, looking for a cloud. The cloudline seemed oddly close, only perhaps a hundred meters above the trees. Finding the nearest one, Celestia took off and flew in as direct a path as she could manage. She landed on the sparse cumulus as gingerly as she could.
Celestia had never felt comfortable resting on the clouds. Despite the centuries’ passage, she never quite shook the feeling that something as airy as a dream shouldn’t support the weight of a body so burdened by doubt. Luna had always been better with pegasus magic. Shuddering slightly, she looked around once more from her perch. The alien landscape extended out in every direction, with no sign of any body of water for miles. There was an exceptionally large stone, presumably similar to the ones that dotted the landscape, that poked its head above the canopy not far from where she rested. Perhaps it was some sort of building where she could seek refuge. She certainly didn’t want to remain in the canopy when the sun set. With no other leads to go on, she spread her wings once more and took off.
The train ride up Mt. Avalon was long and mercifully uneventful. Twilight had used the time to reread one of her favorite books: Daring Do and the Ebon Talon. Sure, it was mostly just useless fluff, but she had already had to stave off dire circumstances twice before with the advents of Nightmare Moon and Discord—and they didn’t print very many instruction manuals on saving the world, so she had to improvise. Daring would have to do. She chuckled at her wordplay, earning a few odd looks from the other passengers.
“Alrighty, folks! We’ll be arriving at Canterlot terminal in few minutes,” a voice up the aisle hollered.
Twilight glanced over to Spike, who was still sleeping quite soundly despite the announcement. Should she wake him? No, he had earned a few more minutes rest—they had spent all night getting ready for the train ride, and Spike had stayed up well past his bedtime in doing so. He should get as much sleep as he can. She gently got up, making sure not to disturb the sleeping dragon, and began gathering her luggage, and stowing away her book in her saddlebag.
The train lurched underneath Twilight, threatening to topple her, but a quick application of magic prevented misfortune. She nudged Spike. “Wake up, sleepy-head. We’re here.”
Spike stirred and gave Twilight a sour look. “Just a few more minutes? I was dreaming about her.”
“Come on, Casanova, get up.”
Spike groaned, but consented. They got off the train, watching their step where applicable.
“Get your paper! Hot off the presses!” a pony shouted at the top of her lungs. An earth pony was selling copies of The Equestria Daily right outside the terminal. Twilight fished a bit out of her saddlebags and tossed it at her. “Thanks, Miss!” she said without lowering her volume.
Twilight glanced at the headline: Sun Sets on the Day Court: Where is Celestia?
“What do you think it means?” Spike asked from her side.
“I don’t know,” said Twilight. “It’s probably just the press blowing things out of proportion. Sensationalism sells, after all.” Twilight packed the paper into her saddlebag.
The trip from the station to the castle proper was uneventful, and after a fashion Twilight found herself retracing well-known steps around the castle grounds. Whenever Twilight visited, which, she figured, was not nearly enough, Celestia had always let her stay in her old tower-library. While she was still studying in the castle it had been her refuge from the storm of castle politics and petty parties.
She set her luggage down next to the door and inhaled deeply. The smell of old books was a comforting old friend, making her feel instantly at home—the books in Ponyville were too new, they lacked the same character. Everything seemed to be in the same place she left it in before. She was surprised that nopony came looking for one of the many books she had stockpiled here. No, wait. There was a stack of papers and a hoofful of ledgers on the table in the center of the room that weren’t there before.
Twilight approached the table. They were guest lists, existing contracts with local musicians, food orders, and data from previous galas. Twilight marveled briefly at the sheer magnitude of data present, structured so succinctly, all at her hooves. She shuddered, quashing her desire to make a list of the lists present—there would be time for such meta organization later. She glanced around for Spike.
“Spike? Where’d you go?”
“I’m up here,” he said, poking his head over the rails of one of the upper levels. “I was just making sure they didn’t mess with anything. I swear, it’s like nopony knows the Dewdrop Decimal System.”
Twilight giggled. “Well, there’s a reason you’re my number-one assistant, Spike. Sometimes I think you know your way around the library better than I do.”
Spike beamed. “Are you going to get started? I saw how you looked at those lists,” he asked, giving Twilight a knowing wink.
Twilight considered it briefly, but there was something troubling her. “No, I don’t think I will just yet. I’ll get everything sorted out tonight, but right now I’m just happy to stretch my legs. I think I might take a walk,” she said and began moving towards the door again. “Oh, before I head out, Spike, I’d like to send a letter to the princess.”
Spike scrambled back down and located his letter-writing supplies. “We’ll probably need to get some more parchment tomorrow, Twilight. You go through parchment quickly when you’re not the head party planner for an important royal event. I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like now that you are.” Spike’s eyes widened dramatically. “It’s going to be the listocolypse.”
“Are you done?” Twilight asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, sure. Ready when you are.”
“Dear Princess Celestia,” Twilight dictated, “I hope this letter finds you well. We’ve just arrived in Canterlot, and have received the information you left. We won’t let you down. Hope your trip goes well. Your Faithful Student, Twilight Sparkle.”
“Uh, Twilight? Don’t you think she’ll be a bit busy? With zebras and stuff? You’re not exactly saying anything here,” he said, gesturing to the parchment with a claw.
“It’s a courtesy, Spike, to let her know that we arrived intact and are officially on the job. Besides, there isn’t a train to Zudan, she’ll be walking there. She won’t be busy for a couple days longer.”
“Whatever you say, Twilight.” Spike took a deep breath and exhaled a bright jade flame which consumed the parchment readily.
Twilight trotted to the doors. “Can you take care of the unpacking?” she said, pausing at the door. “When you’re done with that you can get back to can take a nap. I’m sure Dream-Rarity is waiting.”
The travel was not easy, and Celestia found herself frequently stopping to rest on the clouds as she made her way to the large structure. As she approached it, she was able to get a better gauge of its immensity, and indeed the gargantuan stature of the trees themselves. She wouldn’t be surprised if one tree on its own would supply enough wood to construct an entire town. The monolith, though, dwarfed the trees, rising as tall Mt. Avalon. Everything about the place made her feel like a little pony in a big world.
Her estimation that such a structure would have a point of access was vindicated when she found an aperture a short distance above the treeline. With as much care as she could, she landed and gazed into the the structure. The entry chamber was austere in the extreme, being barren except for a multitude of passages that poked off in every which way, some going straight, others ascending or descending. One passage stood out from the rest, having a number of floating motes of light illuminating the passage down to a bend further in.
Celestia glanced behind her at the setting sun. It had taken her a surprisingly long time to reach the structure. She didn’t have time to find a more suitable shelter before the sun set, and she didn’t want to remain in the forest after dark.
Instead she turned to try her luck with the lit passage. As she ventured deeper, Celestia prodded the lights with a bit of magic. Whatever had left them clearly knew their way around spellcraft, and while she wasn’t foolish enough to immediately consider them an ally, she knew that her wound needed treatment, and that she could only afford so much isolation.
Without the sky to act as timekeeper, time quickly lost meaning. It could have been minutes, or hours, Celestia didn’t know which. The path seemed without end, and she found herself wondering if the lights were a trap, meant to lure an unsuspecting traveler to their doom—perhaps by a bandit, waiting to jump any traveler foolish enough to enter, or a false-path meant to trap those who didn’t know their way. The sound of hoofbeats echoed around her, and she wondered who or what might have left the floating motes, and if they were connected with the odd floating monuments that dotted the landscape. So many questions.
Celestia’s pace began to slow noticeably, and the air grew damp and cold. She considered turning around and retracing her steps back to the central chamber when she heard a dull *pop*. A scroll appeared in front of her, and she reflexively grasped it with her magic. She continued walking numbly as she read the note, careful not to strain her wounded side. The letter was from Twilight. It was mostly just a courtesy letter, letting her know that she had made it to Canterlot intact and was set to work on the Gala, along with well wishes for her journey. A dozen conflicting thoughts and feelings ran through her head. She thought of Twilight, her faithful student, stepping up and taking responsibility; of Luna, finally recovering from her millennial imprisonment; and of Equestria, potentially under assault by an unknown threat. That was the worst part, Celestia thought, that her country—her people were in danger, and there was nothing she could do to help them—
Celestia felt the ground beneath her tremble, and the air crackled with energy. It was then that she then noticed the runes carved into the floor—she had been too absorbed in thought to see them before. The temperature in the passage plummeted, going from cold to frigid in moments. The last thing she felt was the ice forming around her, encasing her from hoof to horn.
.
As Twilight left the tower, she recalled the headline from the paper. Sun Sets on the Day Court: Where is Celestia? Twilight believed earnestly that it was nothing more than journalistic sensationalism, but if it even got to the point where they could write such a thing, the Day Court session probably did not go smoothly. She wanted to see how Luna was holding up.
She had no idea of where to look. Though, after slinging questions at some of the hapless staff, she learned of a few of Luna’s preferred haunts. First place to look would be her chambers.
Twilight cursed the trek up the stairs. “Note to self: Investigate spells to obviate stairs.” At the tower summit Twilight found the door ajar. Tentatively she entered the room and then froze. Luna’s chambers were in shambles, bedding was strewn upon the floor, and a stiff breeze flew in from the open balcony. The princess herself was nowhere to be seen.
Twilight left the scene with thoughts hurtling through her head at an alarming rate. Something was certainly wrong, if the state of Luna’s room was of any indication. Oh what could it be? What could have happened? A dozen equally likely scenarios occurred to her. It could have been a temporal anomaly. Or a spurned lover returning for vengeance. Or perhaps ninjas! It was probably ninjas. Or maybe a spurned lover who was also a ninja. That seemed likely—
Crack
Twilight ran into a door. It was a rather thick door. If the pain she felt at the base of her horn was of any indication, it was at least three inches thick, but less than five. She looked up and read the plaque nailed to it. Royal Library. One of the guards had mentioned that he frequently would see a light coming from the royal library on his nightly patrols.
Tentatively, she opened the door. Books. Floor to ceiling, books coated the walls. This was her favorite spot in the castle. And yet she paused. There was an oppressive stillness to the room. Despite how dearly she loved the castle library, she never felt right entering. It was as though it were too perfect. As if her intrusion would break the spell, and that something would be forever lost.
Twilight took a deep breath and entered. It was as pristine and magical as she remembered it, almost as if nopony had entered the place in years. She only allowed herself a moment to bask in the bookish glory, however. Then she went checking between the bookshelves for the errant princess. As she traversed the room, her hoofbeats echoed loudly through the still air. There was no sign of— Something strange caught Twilight’s attention. One of the bookshelves was practically empty. She looked at the numbers on the adjacent shelves. All of the missing books were history books. Zudanese history books, actually. The only thing of note in the room was the lack of something, so Twilight decided to look elsewhere. As she left she gave the room one last long look.
The only other lead she had came from the kitchen staff. They had said to check the castle observatory. And as she approached, it became evident that somepony was up there. There was the sound of hoofsteps, and every few moments she would hear a thump.
“Uh, hello?” Twilight called.
There was no response, save the continued sound of activity. Twilight entered. The observatory was rather small and cramped, but Luna had apparently made sure to make use of every last square inch of space. The one table in the center of the room was covered in books and scrolls, as were the chairs, and even the vast majority of the floor. The telescope on the far end of the room was being used as a makeshift scrollrack, and Luna herself was pacing around the room, her path marking perhaps the only space in the room bereft of literature. Around her head circled a crown of books and scrolls.
“Princess Luna!” Twilight cried from the entryway. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I—”
Luna didn’t seem to notice her. She continued tracing her winding path around the room.
Twilight took a step and withdrew when she realized she was literally trampling the written word. She decided instead to try yelling again. “Luna!”
It had the desired effect. Luna’s step faltered and she looked from behind a book. “Twilight? What are you doing here?”
Twilight scanned the room. There was no way to get nearer the princess without risking helpless literature. Luna must have noticed her hesitate because she quickly gathered most of the papers from the floor with a sweep of magic. The path thus clear, Twilight approached the Princess of the Night.
“I-uh...” Now that she had found her, Twilight didn’t know what to say. “How are things around the castle? Now that Celestia isn’t here?”
Luna’s reaction was as strong as it was inscrutable. “It is busy. But tell me, why are you in Canterlot? I was not made aware of any impending visits.”
“The princess asked me to help plan for the Gala—I’m really good at planning things!”
“Oh, is that correct?” Luna’s voice seemed strained, and she turned her attention once more to one of the books orbiting her head. “I am afraid this is perhaps not the best time, Twilight Sparkle. Return home now.”
Twilight was no expert on immortal alicorns, but she could tell something was wrong. “Does this have to do with the Day Court? I’m certain it couldn’t have been that bad,” Twilight said, flinching as she did. “Why don’t we talk about it?”
“I care not if the press wish to scandalize my correct priorities, Twilight,” she responded. “Now if you’ll pardon me, there is still much planning left to be done.”
“Oh, you’re planning? That’s what I was sent here to help with! Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Twilight eagerly began scanning the documents on the table. Maps of... the Everfree? And Zudan? “Why do you have these maps out, Luna?”
“Twilight—”
“And what’s with these... intelligence reports? I-I don’t understand. I thought we were planning a party?”
Luna’s face darkened and contorted. Small gusts of wind whipped around her, picking up loose paper and books alike as she shouted, “Twilight Sparkle! Celestia is dead, and Equestria goes to war!”
Twilight felt the ground fall out from under her, and the world dissolved to white.
One by one, the lights further along the passage went out, and Celestia could hear footsteps approach. Something was coming.
