I thought that remembering was a gift. The ability to see what nopony else can see, to feel that sense of wonder and hope that nopony else can feel, I always thought that ability would be my salvation, and the salvation of all of Equestria.
How foalish I was. I now see what lies before me, the burden that has been placed on my shoulders, and my shoulders alone. And now I realize the true meaning of my talent, the cost that I must pay, and only I can pay. Nopony can help me in the quest. I must go into the darkness alone.
--The Storyteller's Final Tale
From her seat on top of the towering throne, Princess Celestia watched as two unicorn workers, dressed in their simple cloth garments, levitated a large stone pillar across the room toward the left wall. The right wall and the wall at the sun princess's back were the only two to actually be completed. The stained glass windows displayed scenes of Celestia's might as she single handedly defeated Discord and his minions, and Celestia hoped the effect was nothing short of awe-inspiring and majestic. The same could not be said for the front wall, which was completely barren and still missing the spots which had yet to be filled in, or the left wall, of which there was barely anything at all.
Ruling from a half-finished throne room had never been Celestia's idea, but there wasn't much she could do. The old castle, in the Everfree Forest, had been almost completely destroyed by her sister's rage. It was obvious that she had to rebuild, there or elsewhere. On the mountaintop, she eventually decided, so she could look down on all she ruled. And then her mysterious contact had given her the loveliest of ideas.
He never gave orders. It was never his game to boss others around. He merely gave suggestions. But those suggestions were always in line with her own thinking, and sometimes he had ideas, brilliant ideas that she wished she had thought of on their own. She doubted she was the only pony he had made contact with. He had an agenda, certainly. He thought he was using her, but Celestia was determined to be manipulated by nopony. If she appeared to be following his every suggestion, it was merely because his ideas really were quite remarkable. As soon as his suggestions were offered, only a fool would ignore them.
“Careful now,” she warned the workers. “We don't want ourselves an accident.” Indeed, damaging the pillar would be an enormous setback. Were it made of normal stone, it could be replaced within the hour. She had dozens of sculptors eager to work for her. But the material within the core of the structure was rare and precious. Earth ponies were mining as much of it as they could, but it was not an unlimited resource. Still, nothing else would do; the advantage it gave her was something she couldn't imagine living without.
She looked up, eying the sigil meticulously drawn on the ceiling directly above her. Lines of the magical golden metal stretched out in every direction from the rune, each one headed to a different part of the palace.
A bolt of lightning, the same rich gold as the metal, sprung up from her horn, arcing up until it connected with ceiling. She felt her senses widen as her entire consciousness spread to fit its new container. Oh yes, she soothed herself, this is marvelous. She could sense the location of every inhabitant of the palace, as if she were standing right beside them. Little blips of energy embedded within a much larger creature. With her touch and direction, the entire palace was very much alive. It was a body truly fitting of such an empress. After the palace was complete, she wasn't sure she would be ready to stop expanding her reach. Maybe she could extend it further, into the cities and towns. Each new addition gave her an increased sense of absolute power.
She let her awareness wander lower, to the underground caverns beneath the palace. There appeared to be a bit of commotion, and she already had a good idea what it was.
Her suspicions were confirmed when her lead guard bounded through the door. Celestia had already sensed her approach and her urgency. “Your Highness,” the guard mare began, awakening Celestia from her trance and severing her connection to the palace. She began to speak again, but the princess beat her to it.
“The prisoner has escaped.”
The guard nodded in confirmation. There was no need to specify the prisoner in question. Only one of them deserved the unique distinction of being “the.”
“What is your recommended course of action?” asked the guard.
“Do nothing.”
“Excuse me, your Highness?” The guards voice had slipped up an entire octave.
“I said, do nothing. I want to see what happens next. Are you questioning my orders?”
“Not at all, your Highness.”
She wanted to relink herself to the sigil, but she worried that doing so might leave her vulnerable. The prisoner was like an infection, already within her new body. Celestia was no fool; she knew what an infection did to those it infiltrated. The prisoner knew better than to escape. Rather, it would come to her.
Sure enough, as the occupants of the throne room watched, red-violet sparks began to gather, some bursting spontaneously from nothingness, others climbing in through holes and windows. They gathered in the center of the room, gaining in energy and erraticism until they began to bubble over and, in a final blinding and deafening explosion, scattered, leaving an enraged mare behind.
The mare was panting heavily, a mix of exhaustion and anger. Her purple coat was slick with sweat and blood from her numerous cuts. Looking up, she noticed Celestia and screamed an unintelligible mindless howl.
The alicorn didn't even flinch. Instead, she smiled, almost egging the unicorn on.
The construction workers backed away slowly, trying to distance themselves from whatever was about to happen.
The purple mare launched herself into the air, propelled forward by magic until she was hovering just a few feet in front of Celestia. Visible magical energy began to seep out of her in spirals, solidifying as it fell into a barrage of weapons. Swords, spears, even some giant crossbows, all the same violet color, pointed themselves directly at the princess of the sun.
Still, Celestia made no motion, awaiting her opponent's next move.
“Hello, Twilight Sparkle,” cooed Celestia. “Are you going to kill me?”
The words seemed to shock Twilight, and her breath quickened. The tension mounted, as Celestia awaited the inevitable. She knew Twilight too well to be fooled by such a display.
Indeed, as the stress reached its breaking point, Twilight grimaced into the best expression of rage she could imagine. But as the seconds passed, and nothing happened, she relaxed and hung her head in shame. The weapons dissolved. No longer exerting any real power, Twilight was overcome by Celestia's magical aura and slowly lowered to the ground.
Celestia stepped down from her throne slowly, approaching the escaped prisoner. She had to admit that Twilight was holding up remarkably well for being in such a perilous situation. The unicorn was looking up at her, and while she chose her words carefully so it wouldn't sound as if she was pleading, Celestia could see right through her.
“Please, listen to me,” said Twilight. “This isn't right. It's not supposed to be like this. You're my ally, my teacher. My friend.”
These were all words the princess had heard before, and she was beginning to grow tired of hearing them repeated. She decided to ignore polite conversation and cut to the chase.
“Twilight Sparkle. They call you the Storyteller, because you have such ridiculous and fanciful notions. And so destructive. Everything I've worked to build, you've worked to tear down. You've knowingly and willingly incited unrest and rebellion. Contrary to your claims, Twilight Sparkle, you've done great harm. You have no respect for me. You are not my friend, Storyteller. You are a threat to all of Equestria.”
“There is only one threat to Equestria, your highness. Your master. The pony without a face, and the bitterness and hate he has instilled in our people. It doesn't have to happen this way, Princess. Remember who you were before him, and we can still reclaim the former glory of this world.”
“He is not my master.”
“But he controls you. He strings you along. He's playing you like he played me. Like he played all of us. He has turned us against our fellow mare and created a world of pain and suffering. But the only power he has over us is that which we give him.”
“Enough.” While the conversation had seemed interesting at its onset, Celestia was quickly growing tired. The Storyteller never changed, no matter how much she was threatened or beaten. She continued to spout such fanciful nonsense. The claim that Equestria used to be a peaceful nation. The stupid assertion that the Stallion on the Moon was manipulating her. And worse than anything else, the foalish belief that she and Twilight were at one point (and Celestia shuddered at the very thought) friends. “Listen here, Twilight Sparkle,” hissed the sun princess as she leaned in close. “That foal has no power over me. He may think he has me under his hoof, but I bow down to nopony. If he was truly the one in control, he would have the title of the ruler of Equestria. Not me. The time will come when I will knock him off his high horse and ensure that nopony, not even him, will be able to challenge my glory. Especially not you.”
Celestia realized too late her mistake. The grin on Twilight's face made it clear that she had noticed it too. The alicorn swore, wishing she could take back her words. Fortunately, Twilight wasn't stupid enough to point out what Celestia had just made painfully obvious to the both of them. That she was a threat. The princess had worked hard to encourage strife between the different pony races, ensuring that they would never be able to rise up to defeat her. Thanks to her efforts, earth ponies had no power to fight her with, and unicorns were too content to bother. The seaponies were nearly extinct. Twilight's ability to unite the ponies was more dangerous than any weapon, a truth both ponies knew.
Fortunately, there was an easy solution. A way to ensure the Storyteller could never harm her again and to crush any lingering spirit of rebellion she may have created in her blasphemous teachings. The course of action was clear, and so neither of them felt the urge to bring it up. Instead, Twilight focused on trying once again to remind Celestia of the truth, with a lingering hope that she might trigger something in her former mentor's subconscious.
She began, for the first time, to feel discouragement, bu it was far too late to change anything now. “You never should have been allowed to become Princess,” she muttered.
Celestia, feeling elated from the irony, began to gloat. “You elected me to this position,” she reminded her prisoner. “Yours was even the deciding vote, I recall. Secretary Applejack and Private Fluttershy were opposed to my rule, but you and the others overrode them.”
“That was back before I saw you had changed. Before I realized he had already gotten to you.”
Celestia frowned, forcing herself to maintain composure. “I never changed, Twilight Sparkle. The fact you saw some other version of me in a fever dream is not an indication of any previous behavior on my part. If anything, it is proof that you are too mentally unfit to be in charge of any sort of revolution. Really, I am doing them all a favor by preventing you from leading them to ruin. Your followers would suffer under you.”
“Not nearly as much as they've suffered from you.”
“Enough.” Celestia beckoned to the guards, who advanced on Twilight. “Take her back to her cell.” The guards exchanged nervous looks. “For my sakes, gentlemen. She won't hurt you. Trust me.” Only somewhat encouraged, the guards succeeded in shackling the prisoner, and she stood in resignation and allowed herself to be led back to her cell. “This isn't over,” she yelled over her shoulder at Celestia. “I know that you're still in there. He can't destroy what we used to have. Not even he's that powerful.”
As Twilight was escorted out of the room, Celestia turned her gaze to the lead guard, who was awaiting her next orders. “See?” said the princess. “I told you I'd be fine.”
The guard was still recovering from witnessing the scene in front of her. “But h-how did you...” she stammered.
“How did I know she wasn't going to kill me? Because she had no other choice. She wants to convince me that ponies, at their core, are a bunch of peaceful kindhearted pansies. That we aren't automatically killers, that we have a choice in the matter. Imagine the statement she'd be making if she killed me.”
“She'd be proving herself wrong,” concluded the guard.
“I almost wish she did go through with it, though,” said Celestia wistfully. “It would be the perfect way to finally put a stop to her silly shenanigans.”
“But then you'd be dead,” countered the guard.
“Technicalities. And it doesn't matter much anymore. She's just so easy to read. So open and honest. She could escape any time she wanted. She could certainly overpower the guards if she tried. But she won't. She'll stay here, in the palace, up until her execution, because she thinks she can remind me of who I supposedly was.”
“E-execution?” stammered the guard.
“Of course. A public one, if at all possible. We need to make a statement, don't we?”
“Are you sure that's necessary?”
Celestia sighed. “I know you used to be her friend, Commander. But you need to face the truth. Twilight Sparkle has gone insane. She's powerful, dangerous, and a lunatic. If you can put your own biases aside, you'll see that this is the best course of action. Don't get hung up on being loyal to her. It's your loyalty to Equestria we need. Is that clear?”
The guard shuffled nervously, her helmet shifting and revealing her locks of rainbow hair.
“I repeat, is that clear, Commander Rainbow Dash?”
The pegasus nodded. “Yes, your highness. It's clear. For the good of Equestria, Twilight Sparkle must die.”
The young dragon could feel the moisture on his palms, and he rubbed them against the fur of the pony he was riding on. He was aware of everything around him, and the shifting shadows made him shiver with apprehension. He was also painfully aware of his body's response to the situation, including the sweat beading on his neck. He bemoaned the combination of symptoms that made him extremely uncomfortable but forced him to be raptly attentive to his own discomfort.
“I really don't think this is a good idea,” he told the pony beneath him for no less than the fifth time. “We should leave now, before she catches us.”
“Oh hush, Spike,” the mare responded. “Just keep quiet. We'll be in and out in minutes.”
Spike wasn't so certain. “Please,” he begged. “I don't want to get caught in the restricted section of the library. Imagine what the princess will do if we get caught! She could banish us! Or throw us in prison! Or worse.”
The purple mare furrowed her brow and turned to face Spike. “Enough of that,” she said. “I certainly hope you're not taking stock in those baseless rumors about the princess. She's not a monster, no matter what they say. There's no way she's done all those things.”
“Of course not. I just don't think you should be disobeying the princess. She told you specifically not to be here.”
The mare laughed. “What Celestia doesn't know won't hurt her, right?”
Spike wasn’t so certain. Still, he stopped protesting and merely tightened his grip as they ventured deeper into the library. They were flanked on both sides by enormous bookcases
“Besides,” continued the mare, her short-cut streaked hair bouncing in front of her eyes, “I won’t be able to sleep until I get to the bottom of this. You saw that picture, right? She looked exactly like me.”
Spike shrugged. “That could be a picture of anyone, Clover.”
Clover Greens, the prized pupil Princess Celestia and top student at the Canterlot School for Gifted Unicorns, was not easily discouraged. Not when she knew what she saw. “She had my cutie mark,” she told Spike. “That alone makes her worth investigating.”
“I hate to break it to you, Clover, but cutie marks aren’t unique. There are at least three ponies in your class with hourglasses, whatever that’s supposed to represent.”
“Weren't you paying attention, Spike? Princess Celestia told me that she'd never seen my cutie mark before. That was one of the reasons she took me on as her personal pupil. But if that picture was real, then either Celestia didn't ever know about her, or...”
Or the princess was lying to her. Clover didn't want to believe that Celestia would ever deliberately withhold information from her, but she needed to find out the truth for herself. Ever since she had discovered the drawing and journal entry in her bed, she'd been fascinated by the possibility of her possible ancestor. The journal appeared to even be written by Secretary Applejack herself, one of the five founders of Equestria. And she spoke of this Twilight like she was an old friend. But Clover, in all of her studies, had never even heard of the name Twilight Sparkle. Was it really possible that both she and Celestia were completely unaware of someone so close to somepony famous?
Clover stopped at a door, which was labeled with a small plaque reading “Restricted. No admittance without the express authority of Celestia.” She paused, her horn lighting up as she felt around the door with her magic.
“So... are you going to open it?” asked Spike after half a minute had passed. He didn’t want to be here a moment longer than he had to.
Clover smirked. “Nope.”
“What?” The answer had caught Spike off guard. “You’re not?”
She finished her search, and the light from her horn faded. “It’s a trap,” she told Spike. “Celestia would never use the door. She doesn’t have to.” She backed up and began running at the door head on, with Spike holding on for dear life.
Before she hit the door, she and her dragon assistant vanished, dissolving into nearly imperceptible smoke and flitting through the cracks around the door. The pair reformed on the other side, and Clover swayed uneasily as her body reformed. Spike cried out as his hands slipped through her insubstantial mane and he fell to the floor.
They were in a much smaller room now, about five yards in each direction. The other three walls were each lined with a single long bookcase, and a mismatched combination of hardcovers, paperbacks, and scrolls filled each one. As Spike woozily stood up, Clover again probed the door with her magic.
“Okay,” she said. “No obvious alarms were triggered. As long as we don't stay in here too long...”
As if to spite her, she was interrupted by a blaring siren. She swore and ran to the first bookshelf, pulling books off one at a time and examining them, throwing them aside when they didn't meet her criteria.
“Uh, Clover?” began Spike.
“Not now, Spike. Help me search.”
Spike nodded and ran to the opposite shelf. The two friends began frantically making their way toward the middle of the shelves, leaving a disordered mess behind them.
“Found it!” cried Clover just before she was blinded by a flash of light. Spike squeezed his eyes shut, but he could still see the light behind his eyelids. As it gradually faded, he opened them slightly to discover Celestia standing tall in the center of the room. She wasn't angry, but the expression on her face made it clear that she was in no mood for fooling around.
“Clover Greens,” she nearly shouted, and the unicorn shrank back at the sound of her name. She couldn't help but be intimidated by the use of the Royal Canterlot Voice. Then Celestia calmed a bit, and her tone became more palatable. “Whatever are you doing at this time of night?”
Clover shifted frantically as she tried to think of an excuse. But Spike beat her to it.
“It was my idea!” he cried. “I wanted to find out more about my parents, but I could never find any information. So I begged Clover to take me here so I could look to see if there were any records.”
Clover tried her best to shrink into the floor and make herself invisible. She appreciated Spike's attempt to cover, but Celestia was going to see right through it. She never should have made this stupid risk, and she could only imagine what her punishment was going to be.
“I see.” Celestia's voice was soft. “You're forgiven. But the next time you want to know something, just ask me, alright? I promise that I'll do everything in my power to help you. Now let's get you back to bed.” The world lit up around them, and when it faded, they were in Clover's bedroom in the west tower of the castle. Moonlight shone in from a window, illuminating her bed, and she began to realize how tired she was.
Celestia looked at her student sternly. “Remember, Clover, I want to help you. But I can't do that unless you trust me. If you need something, you don't have to go snooping on your own. Just ask.”
Clover felt ashamed. She had gone behind Celestia's back because of those silly rumors. Now she knew she didn't have to. All she had ended up doing was betraying her teacher's trust. She had to come clean. Celestia began to leave.
“Actually,” she muttered, trying to build up the courage to speak, “there is something I was wondering about.”
“Yes?” Her mentor stopped and turned around.
“You told me that one of the reasons you chose me to be your personal student was that you had never seen my cutie mark before.”
“That's right, my little pupil. You're quite unique.”
“Yeah, but last night I found this on my bed. I don't know how it got there, but take a look at it!” She opened a drawer in her nightstand and levitated out a small scroll. Unfurling it in front of Celestia, she allowed the princess to take a look.
“Well?” Clover asked hopefully.
Celestia scowled, although she was quick to make it look like a normal frown. “Clover, that's a drawing of you.”
“But look at the writing!” cried Clover. “It was written by Secretary Applejack, over a thousand years ago! The pony in the picture is from the very early days of Equestria!”
She looked up into Celestia's eyes, desperate that the princess would see how excited she was about this discovery. Another pony like her! She remembered some of the other students talking about finding their ancestors, ponies born long ago with the same race and cutie mark, and modeling themselves after them. Now she had a role model too!
Her train of thought was interrupted when she heard Celestia laughing. What was so funny?
“It seems,” her teacher said, “that you have been the victim of a cruel joke. Perhaps one of the other students knew you had been searching for somepony else with your cutie mark. This isn't real, Clover, you must understand that. The pony described in the drawing never existed.”
Clover was crushed. “But how can you be certain?” she asked.
Celestia chuckled again. “Because,” she answered. “A pony like that must share your magical talent. And if she existed, and was friends with someone as famous and important as Applejack, you would have heard about her long before now. The fact that there are no other pictures of this mare and no other records of her existence is proof enough that she was never alive.”
“I see.” Clover was at a loss. Nothing had happened the way she had been planning for it to happen, and she could only take solace in the fact that she and Spike weren't going to be punished for her invasion of privacy. Seeing that she no longer had anything else to do, Clover decided she would just sleep.
As Celestia left the bedroom to give her student some privacy, Spike wrapped Clover into a hug, and Clover smiled. At least she still had her number one assistant.
“Time for sleep, Spike.” she told him before she climbed inside her bed. Instead of falling asleep, however, she closed her eyes and waited.
Some time later, Clover opened her eyes. Pretending to sleep was becoming very boring, and Spike had to be asleep by now. She focused on the book she had successfully marked with her magic in the moments before she had been caught by Celestia. She imagined dragging it across the distance to her. With a soft pop, it appeared in front of her and fell onto the bed.
Secretary Applejack's journal. Unabridged. Perfect.
The book was available in the public part of the library as well, and probably many other libraries too. But they were all printed copies. This one was the original, a priceless artifact that she had just recklessly thrown through the void with magic. But she could repair any damage it may have endured on its journey. Probably.
She began turning the pages, looking for the date mentioned in the entry she had discovered. Amazingly, it appeared that there had been an entry for that day, but it had been torn out. She grabbed the scroll and again unfurled it, matching up the jagged edges. They fit perfectly.
She began flipping through the pages, looking for other clues. She didn't have to look hard. There were references to the mare everywhere, as frequently as the other founders of Equestria. The journals seemed to make Twilight Sparkle out to be as famous as any of the others.
Then why hadn't Clover even heard the name before? She skipped ahead, looking for any clues.
Apparently Twilight had gone insane. She suffered from hallucinations and delusions. And then she had been executed. For treason.
Clover shuddered and closed the book, not wanting to think about what this meant for her. She hid the book under her mattress and tried in vain to fall asleep. But all she could image was the pony that looked exactly like her, and what Twilight might have been like.
Celestia sat down on her own bed and sighed. She knew she had to get some sleep before it was time to raise the sun again, but she was too anxious. She had come far too close to being discovered.
She heard a knocking on her door. Already having a strong suspicion who it was, she called for the visitor to enter.
“Tell me everything, Spike,” she ordered as soon as she heard the door close.
The dragon nodded and did his best to pretend not to be intimidated by the princess's presence. “I don't know how the picture got there,” he confessed. “If I did, I'd tell you.”
“I know. And whoever's responsible better pray I never find out. You can be sure that Scratch will be hearing about this.” Of course, knowing him, he already knew. Maybe he was the one that put them there. “In the meantime,” she continued, “your job doesn't change. Keep a close eye on Clover. Make sure she doesn't go sticking her nose in places where it doesn't belong. If at all possible, convince her to drop this silly 'ancestor' hunt. If she figures out the truth about Twilight Sparkle, who knows what she might do.”
Spike nodded in understanding. “If I may speak freely, though,” he began.
“You may.”
“How long do you expect to keep this up? We can't keep her in the castle forever. Soon she's going to become her own mare, and then we won't be able to keep an eye on her. And knowing her, she's not going to give up until she discovers the truth.”
Celestia grimaced. She didn't want to admit it, but Spike was raising a valid point. “I have plans,” she assured the dragon. “In fact, let's start one of them right now. Come here, Spike.”
Spike, confused, innocently stared at the princess.
“I said come here, Spike. I won't hurt you.”
Spike recovered and ran to her side. She lowered her horn until it was touching his forehead. It glowed for a second, and Spike felt light-headed and very warm, like something was being kindled inside him, growing more painful and intense until it forced its way out of his mouth in a rush of green flame.
Celestia stood upright, and Spike was thankful the flames had missed her. “That was new,” he remarked.
“I've established a connection between us. This way you can continue to send correspondences to me after Clover's left the nest. And don't worry; you won't have to do it for long.” Celestia cast another spell, and a thick fog descended around them, revealing a picture of a plummeting meteor. “The Game is starting soon. And when it does, our role in preparing the things to come will end.”
“Things to come?”
“Yes, Spike. Although it may not look like it, this world is dying. Soon I won't have a kingdom. But that's okay. Because Clover Greens is going to create a new world for me to rule.”
