Daughter of the Night

by Word Wizard

Chapters

Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Prologue
Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter 3

Daughter of the Night

Chapter Three

Homecoming
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“That’s pretty much it,” Twilight explained. The morning had dragged on, leaving afternoon in its wake. Nopony had eaten, nopony had even left the room. All were rivited to Twilight’s tale.

“Wow,” Applejack remarked, casually throwing her hat in the air. “I never knew Luna was such an… intro thingy mabober.”

“Vert. Introvert,” Twilight sighed.

“Yeah, that,” Applejack said, catching the hat again. “So you never actually talked to her?”

“Nope,” Twilight said, hoping desperately the lie was not visible on her face. “Not a word. Shame really, could have been interesting.”

“That just proves us right,” Rarity stated proudly, “Luna does not want to be disturbed so... she is obviously guilty!”

“Uh, what?” Rainbow was sitting now, the whole hovering business getting a little old. “I mean, I’m no egghead but I know when ponies don’t make sense. But Luna really is the conniving schmuck that Nightmare Moon was, but without the whole ‘Nightmare’ part.”

“I wouldn’t say conniving,” Fluttershy said quietly, “I think she just wanted to be left alone. What’s the shame in that?”

“It’s just weird!” Pinkie exclaimed. She took in a deep breath of air, bellowing out her chest theatrically. “I mean, nopony would want to be left alone, right? I mean, especially when somepony fun like Twilight’s knocking and you get the 'Never-know-if-they-want-a-party' feeling which is probably all ‘yeah, she wants a party’ so I open the door!

“I mean, who wouldn’t?” She cocked her head to the side in curiousity. The room was dead quiet for several seconds afterwards.

“Right, well.” Twilight started to sweat again. Starlight was waking up; she could feel it. “I’m sure you have all sorts of things to do, I can’t go around keeping you from them!”

“Well actually I-” Rarity started, but soon found herself on the front lawn. Everypony else was there too, slightly dazed by the surprise landing.

“What’s the big idea?” Rainbow asked, indignantly hovering above Twilight.

“Just making your trip easier!” Twilight chattered, gaining the slightly insane quality she was famed for in times of stress. “Now, I’m sure you have to do something, so off you go! Bye girls!”

With a plume of magic, the librarian disappeared, leaving the others staring, wide eyed, at her former location.

“What’s got into her?” Applejack said, “It’s like cabin fever, but she ain’t been hangin’ around in cabins, now has she?”

“No!” Spike recoiled under the farm pony’s stare. “I mean, no. We never go on vacation. Always too busy…”

“I’ll go see what’s going on,” Spike started to walk towards the door, sensing hostility towards his grumbling monologue. It was true they never went on vacations. Aside from the trips to and from Canterlot and the Crystal Empire, Spike never got on the train.

A trip for pure leisure never popped up, or when it did something else took precedence. Spike plodded his way towards the door, grumbling something about beaches and sunscreen. He turned the handle, expecting the door to either open slowly or very, very quickly.

“Here we go,” he muttered. Opening the library door was always a surprise.

It didn’t.

Nothing happened. The door was immobile as the door handle squeaked up and down in Spike’s hands, disconnected and lifeless. He was vexed; the library never locked its doors during the week.

“Come to think of it,” Spike said, continuing to try the unyielding door. “It is a weekend. But Twi never locks it, not during the day. And at least usually when I’m inside.”

The wind blew past him, whistling smugly in his ear as he fumbled for the key. It wasn’t under the rock, it wasn’t in his hand… It wasn’t much of anywhere, as far as Spike could figure out.

“TWILIGHT!” Spike shouted. “LET ME IN WILLYA?”

Silence. The wind whistled again, plucking Spike’s nerves like a novel harpsichordist. And just like any harpsichord, Spike did not appreciate it. “Fine,” he grumbled, walking down the path. “I’ll just go forge my own key. Or grow into a big dragon and burn down the door. Or SOMETHING.”

Off he walked, into the midafternoon sun. Not caring where he went, not minding what got in his way. Just walking.

“Oh,” Twilight said, looking up from her work. “Looks like somepony forgot to open the door!”

She gently unhitched the latch in a quick burst of purple magic. Sheepishly, she turned back to her work. She was cooking lunch, or dinner at this point, for three.

Smoke billowed from the kitchen, sticking to the ceiling like tar. Steam shot out of the tea pot with incredible vigor, slamming into the ceiling like a crazed dog trying to escape. In the midst of this, Twilight coughed.

“Goodness,” she gagged, “now I know why Spike’s here.”

Magic twisted this way and that, opening jars, turning off burners, mixing bowls. The smoke wafted upstairs, wafting out the window in a thick black stream.

“Spike!” Twilight shouted, dousing a flaming pot with salt. “Spike!” No response met her ears. “That’s strange,” she commented, looking through the thick black haze to the door. “He hardly ever goes off without at least telling me.”

“Aye!” the voice cut through the smoke like a sharpened blade. “Come on in boys, got a bit a fire here!”

Sounds of stomping hooves filled the library. Squinting through the fog, Twilight saw the outlines of several stallions hurrying around in the main room. Hoses were being dragged in and one wore a gasmask.

“Hello?” Twilight asked tenuously through the black haze.

“A survivor!” the sharp voice cried, “Hold on las, we’re comin’!”

“What?” Twilight threw baking powder on the last of the fires and shifted the fog with her magic. An elderly white earth pony was plodding toward her with a determined face. He wore a red helmet, and a pin in the shape of an axe on his spindly brown mane.

“Stay calm!” he shouted over the din of an imaginary fire. “Just stay still!”

“Who exactly-”

“Stay calm!”

“But-”

“STAY CALM.”

“STOP SAYING THAT!” Twilight shouted, fed up with the stallion’s constant reassurances. He stopped mid-step, blinking in surprise. “Thank you. Now what are you doing in the Ponyville Library?”

“Um.” The elderly stallion looked sheepishly at the floor. “Just thought we’d put out the fire miss.”

“So you’re the fire department are you?” Twilight inquired skeptically.

“Yes ma’am,” the stallion turned to the other members of his party. “Me and these two.”

Two slightly younger stallions stood in the main room of the library, confused. Twilight was unimpressed. “Uh huh,” she said staunchly, “why exactly did you come over here for a kitchen fire?”

“Ah well, miss,” the stallion took off his hat and twitched it nervously. “Very tricky are kitchen fires. Can bring a whole place down, see. We haven’t had a fire in years, thought we’d bring out all the equipment. Haven’t used it for decades.”

“Oh,” Twilight raised an eyebrow, “So is that why you were going to hose down my entire library?”

“Uh, yes ma’am,” the stallion said, wilting under Twilight’s glare. “We better get going then, busy stuff an' all.”

“I’m sure,” Twilight rolled her eyes as the stallions began to leave with impressive haste. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Blazing Beam, ma’am,” the white stallion replied, “always ready to protect *cough* Ponyville in times of need. That’s us…”

Twilight sighed as she turned back to the kitchen. The door slammed shut behind the fire department, leaving a pleasant silence in its wake. “Now,” she said, overlooking the wrecked kitchen, “to resurrect supper.”

Starlight stared at the ceiling. The sun hung low in the sky, shadowing the library with its indistinct light. The little black alicorn looked at the ceiling with intent curiousity. Her coat was a mix of blue and black, the former prevailing. Her horn had grown several inches from yesterday, amounting to much more than a stub.

She stretched her wings as she stared, fascinated by the room. Every little grain of wood and pulp, of timber and stone, fell under her intent gaze. This was life. This was new.

A mouse, a much rued creature, hopped up on the bed next to the alicorn. Mice were not common in the library, often being subjected to eviction upon discovery. They ate paper, and wrinkled and chewed anything within paw reach.

But Starlight looked down on the rodent with wondrous curiosity. Her wide eyes were alight with interest as she watched the nervous animal creep closer.

“What are you?” she asked finally. So softly that the mouse merely stood up, straining his ears for the sound. “What are you?” she asked, slightly firmer.

The mouse jumped in surprise, startled by the sudden noise. “Sqeak!” he exclaimed, jumping off the bed and rushing to his hole. Starlight’s eyes were even wider than the mouse’s.

“Where do you live?” she peeked off the bed with intent curiosity. She scanned the room, even the ceiling for a home. She found none, and so began to creep around the ground. “Here furry thing!” she called softly, “Starlight doesn’t want to hurt you. Whatever you are.”

She crawled around the room, poking her nose in every nook and cranny, pushing boxes out of the way to get a clearer view. The mouse watched, bemused, from his hole. His whiskers twitched as his eyes followed Starlight’s searching movements.

“Thingy!” she called finally, pushing one last box away from the baseboard. “There you are!”

“Squeek!” the mouse cried, retreating into its abode with adept swiftness. “Squeek squeak. Squeek SQUEEK.” He added, firmly glaring at the curious filly.

“That is so cute!” Starlight commented.

“Starlight?” Twilight's voice called up the stairs. Starlight's ear cocked, turning toward the sound. “I've got dinner!”

“Uh, what's dinner?” Starlight asked, walking towards the door. The mouse took this moment to dive deeper into his lair, looking forward to a quiet evening, minus the curious fillies.

“Oh Starlight,” Twilight chuckled, pushing the door to the bedroom open with a purple glow. “I forget how new you are,” she set a silver tray down gently on the bedside table, lighting a candle in another glow of magic. “Dinner is a meal at the end of the day.”

“Oh,” Starlight said, thinking about her stomach. It grumbled, stating its disposition in this conversation very clearly. “What's for... dinner?”

“Crackers and soup,” Twilight levitated a steaming bowl off the tray, holding it very carefully in the ethereal force. She had originally planned a much larger, fancier meal,but in the end, as with most cooking, expectations had lowered to meet the possible product. “Taste good, I think.”

She eyed the soup with some suspicion, questioning its current state of 'done' or 'overdone'ness. It gurgled indifferently in response as it touched down softly next to Starlight. She looked at with wide, curious eyes.

Steam twisted upward, distorting the soup’s view in the fillies starstruck eyes. “That looks… Wonderful,” Starlight said, agast. Twilight chuckled as she took her own soup in her hooves, sitting down on the bed next to the little black alicorn.

“It sure is,” Twilight said, softly blowing on the steaming bowl, “There’s even more, when you get out there.”

“Out,” Starlight looked thoughtful, “That’s ‘out’ as in not ‘in’?”

“That’s the one,” Twilight sipped a little bit of the frothing red broth off the top. It barreled down her throat like a large, boiling, cascade. “We can go for a little walk tomorrow,” Twilight said, watching Starlight crunch down a cracker. “And I’m sure I can give you some magic lessons.”

“Magic? Lessons?” Starlight’s face lit up, “Oh, yes yes!”

“Filly after my own heart,” Twilight playfully rubbed Starlight’s purple mane. She shied away from the hoof, but quickly joined in the game with her own. Happy laughter filled the room as the two engaged in playful joy.

Night slunk into the town, shadows growing to full-fledged darkness. Torches and firefly lanterns flickered gracefully in the windows, their deep yellow light pouring into the street below. Ponies began their nighttime routines, locking doors and lighting fires.

The Evening Watch started to patrol, not so much for crime prevention as municipal tasks. They lit the street lamps and ensured all was well throughout the evening.

Trottingham had long since disbanded the Night Watch, a band of ponies that would guard the town through the night. It was too peaceful, too undisturbed. As a result, the streets were empty in the night, their inky blackness undisturbed by the tromping of hooves.

Sterling Silver had work to be done. He settled down at the work table, lumps of molten hot silver lay out in front of him. Only occasionally did he glance up from his work, viewing the prints fastened on the wall affront him.

The banging of the small hammer was music to his ears; the smith’s delight. A small dagger began to emerge from the metal, glowing with heat. The hammer raised again, held in the orange glow of Sterling’s levitation, and began its rapid descent downwards.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

The hammer missed its mark, slamming into the would be handle of the dagger with incredible force. The handle was flattened to a thin sheet.

Sterling looked at the door, screaming with frustration. “Whoever it is,” he muttered, walking towards it with an angry glower. “Why do they have to call at this time of night?”

He pushed it open, then promptly leapt backwards. Twilight Sparkle smiled as she looked in.

“Hello!” she said cheerfully, trotting inside. Sterling Silver stood, dumbstruck.

“Good evening, Miss Sparkle,” he regained his business-like composure only by sheer force of will. “May I ask why you are calling so… late?”

“Just wanted a necklace,” Twilight said, examining the shelves of housed silver goods. “I hear you make some of the most enchantable products in Equestria.”

Sterling blushed. “That’s what they say, miss,” he looked around desperately, throwing the door to his work room shut. Nopony must see what lay behind that door.

“Do you have something small,” Twilight continued, turning a small turnstyle in her magic and exaimening the contents. “Maybe something that could fit a filly, perhaps?”

“Oh yes,” Sterling said, quickly glancing around the room for any more evidence of his membership to The Fellowship. “They would be right over there,” he pointed a hoof to a small corner of the shop. Tiny bracelets and necklaces hung by racks, with a sign over it that clearly read: Foal’s Section

“Thank you very much,” Twilight said, walking over to the corner and examining the products. “How much can this hold?” she asked, grasping a medium sized silver beaded necklace in her levitation.

“Quite a bit,” Sterling said, examining the product. “In fact, that’s one of the highest magic capacity products in that section.”

“That will do nicely,” Twilight said warmly. She trotted over to the counter, which Sterling quickly arranged himself behind.

“Will that be all, miss?” he asked, opening a glistening silver cashbox.

“It certainly will be,” Twilight pulled a small bits pouch out of the air beside her.

“Two thousand bits,” Sterling said nonchalantly. His products were the finest, and price reflected quality.

“Here you go,” Twilight said, completely unfazed by the price. A small stack of golden coins floated over the counter, landing with a clink in front of the dumbstruck Sterling Silver.

“Wait,” he said slowly, examining the money, “You live in Ponyville, correct?”

“Yes,” Twilight said, tucking the necklace safely into her saddlebags.

“And you came twenty miles to Trottingham,” Sterling continued. Twilight nodded. “With no provisions or visible transport.”

“Twenty miles isn’t all that far,” Twilight said, starting to walk out the door. “Actually, it’s quite small once you look at the grand scheme of things. And that distance doesn’t make any difference at all when teleporting.”

“But-“

“Thank you very much for your services!” Twilight said cheerfully, disappearing into the night. A purple flash of light shot through the window for only a second; and she was nowhere to be seen.

“Restless will not like to hear about this.” Sterling sighed and slowly trudged back to his work room, where he began on the dagger anew.

Sharp rays of sunlight peaked over the mountains, warming the ground with its constant glare. Canterlot was quiet that morning… Very quiet. Windows were stark, nothing but curtain showing through their panes.

The palace was deathly silent. Servants waited expectantly in their quarters. Chefs prepared meals, slowly and sullenly moving among the steaming pots. The guard went about the duties in dutiful silence. So much activity, yet so little life.

Celestia lay in her bed, tossing and turning with anxiety. She slept restlessly, worries nagging her every thought. It all seemed so… Vivid. And yet she prayed it was a merely a nightmare, even when she knew better.

Finally, the saving light of morning awoke her from the torturous slumber. Her eyes flickered open on the first light of morning, and set about determining reality. She sat up in bed, glancing from one side of the dimly lit quarters to the other.

“A dream?” she pondered, slipping out of the velvet sheets. A quick burst of yellow magic casted the drapes to the sides, revealing the morning’s true glory to her. Light flared into the room as she jumped back from the sight.

It wasn’t the light that she was shocked by… The balcony was. It was placid, as most marble is, but a section of the Hallowed Fence was ripped from its position, torn from the mortar that kept it in place. The rest was charred, as though it had been through a fire.

Celestia stepped out warily onto the cold marble balcony, examining the damage with a careful air. Her mane glowed in the sunlight as she scrutinized the Hallowed Fence.

The Hallowed Fence was put in the day the castle was built. It was neither oak nor pine, but a fine glowing wood from the royal Sisters’ homeland. Vux, it was called. Vuxian wood holds not only a property of illumination, but that of magic. It assisted in raising the sun and moon, giving amplification to the Sisters’ obscene power.

Right now it was charred and black, crumbling into a fine black powder. Celestia walked back inside, dumbstruck. She rang the bell for a servant, instantly requesting a nice warm kettle of tea. The speaking tube ascended back into the ceiling, echoing her requests ever so softly.

She turned back to her room, staring at the singed carpet with brimming eyes. A tear trickled down her cheek as she looked on.

“How could you be so… Careless with your actions?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Stop LYING!”

The voice of her sister stuck in Celestia’s head, ringing through her mind. She remembered pain, anger, disappointment as she pawed at the singed ground. One thousand years ago, she felt this kind of remorse. The birth of Nightmare Moon was the end of her sister, until merely last year she was banished under Celestia’s own actions.

She was disappointed in Luna then, too. But this was… different. At least in Nightmare Moon’s case Celestia had justification in the safety of her subjects; but now her sister’s exile seemed frivolous.

“Ah, Celestia,” Cadence’s voice broke the sun princess’s internal monologue. Celestia turned, facing the pink alicorn with new sympathy. “Feeling better?”

“I am,” Celestia said coolly. It was the first time in days she had talked without bursting into tears. It felt wonderful.

Cadence smiled. “Good,” she said, taking a seat on the couch. Celestia joined her, solemnly pouring a cup of tea from the newly arriving kettle.

“How did the…” Celestia stopped. Oh, she thought, that’s how.

“What?” Cadence nabbed a cup of frothing tea in her pink glow, raised it to her lips, and began slowly sipping on it. One eyebrow was raised in inquiry.

“The sun,” Celestia continued, “How did-”

“Me,” Cadence’s eyes were firm, “I raised the sun and set the moon. You never said I could do it. I can.”

“Oh,” Celestia said sheepishly, “I just wanted you to… discover it yourself.”

“Very well,” Cadence set the cup down. It clinked gently as it tapped the silver tray; she gave her aunt a very severe look. “Any new feelings on yesterday?”

“No,” Celestia said firmly. Even though she was torn on the subject inside, the world mustn't know that; it must simply know that she was ashamed of her sister’s actions. Faust only knows what could happen if word got out otherwise.

Cadence sighed. “In the past twelve hours,” she said languidly, “I have dealt with two riots, five protests, and six peddling sales ponies selling birth control items. This is widespread, Celestia, this is not only Canterlot; I’ve been getting angry letters from all over, many speaking of ‘revolt’. No, your sister’s actions have put us in a situation, but that doesn’t mean you have to agree with the populace.

“I have, for the most part, dismissed the letters as trash. One, though, carried a curse. A very, very nasty curse, if I do say so myself. I had the good fortune not to open it, but Silver Platter is currently in the intensive care unit of the hospital, clinging on to life and sanity by shreds.

“The populace hates you, it hates us, Celestia,” Cadence sighed, rubbing her mane back with a hoof. “It may pass; but the severity of the actions is escalating, I’m afraid. But that doesn’t mean you must hate your sister merely to save face. Let’s be honest: there isn’t much face left to save.”

“To be quite frank,” Celestia said, somewhat sheepishly, “I don’t know what got into me. It was like… the rage took a form of its own. It robbed me of my senses and replaced them with white rage.

“I guess this is what Nightmare Moon must have felt like. It’s living torture to be a soul inside a body overcome with anger, it really is.” Celestia looked at the table, unable to meet Cadence’s eyes. “But now the damage is done. I can’t go back. I must cling to what opinions I set for myself; that means maintaining anger towards my sister.”

Cadence nodded solemnly.

“Anger is a powerful force,” she said, sipping the last of her tea. “But love triumphs over it. Whenever you wish to destroy Luna, remember your love for her. Your foalhoods. Playing happily together, ruling the kingdom in peace a prosperity. I know you love her. Don’t let anger get in the way. We can fix this, but you must admit your true feelings.”

“Yes,” Celestia said, determination suddenly taking a steely presence in her voice. She raised her head and gazed levelly at Cadence with a firm, steady glare. “I love Luna as a sister, as a friend. She is the best companion I could wish for. There is a way to go forward. A way to retake my actions.

“It is not easy nor obvious, but it exists. I will find it. I will get Luna back.”

Cadence smiled. “That’s the Celestia I know,” she said in a serene voice. “That wasn’t you when you were consumed with rage. This is the true you. Remember that.”

An explosion from outside pierced the air with a sudden shock wave. Shouts of anguish followed, and the crackling of burning timber. Celestia jerked her head towards the window, grimacing as she did.

“Ponies are free to express themselves,” she muttered, “but nopony. Nopony is getting hurt. Not under my watch.”

“We must control them,” Celestia said firmly, turning back to Cadence. Her radiant mane fell over one eye, and the one in view sent out a glare as ferocious as her grimace. “I need Shining Armor in Canterlot… now.”

The morning was clear as Restless Vigil looked out his window in disgust. Ponies were shouting in the streets, holding signs high above their heads, and generally being… inconvenient, as far as Restless was concerned.

He sipped on a small crystal glass of liquid, shaking his head as he looked over the crowd. They were so crude, so… inelegant. Real coups were executed in a subtle fashion, often making the populace merely think their existing rulers were… unsuitable. Then, the usurping party could rise as reputable by comparison, spout promising things that were actually a load of horse manure, and get into office without one death.

But the Fellowship had more in mind. Bloodshed did… muddle things up with legal mumbo-jumbo, but Celestia must be… disposed of. She was too powerful, nopony could win against her regime by simply manipulating the townsfolk, no, the leader herself must be destroyed. And her prize pupal, Twilight Sparkle; Restless sighed. She would be a nuisance, but not when used properly.

“My lord,” Virgil’s velvet voice floated through the door. There was a soft knocking noise as the butler waited.

“Come in, Virgil,” Restless said, continuing to gaze at the streets. The guard had arrived now, and were attempting to control the riots. Good, Restless thought, make them hate you even more, you white backed bastards.

“Your guests have arrived,” Virgil said, pushing the door open. “They wish to see you as soon as possible.”

“Of course,” Restless waved a hoof, “send them in.”

“Yes, sir,” Restless could hear Virgil walk out of the room. Several pairs of hoofsteps galloped in the room; Restless turned.

“We heard it was urgent,” Ventus Lucem said, impertinently pulling a pen out of her mane. She was a muscular light gray pegasus, a light blue mane draping softly over one side of her head. A tree bending in the wind was her cutie mark. Her purple eyes were wide with panic and expectation, nervously holding a blackened quill over paper.

“Indeed it is,” Restless said calmly. Aurora Burst simply grinned, his eyes dilated and menacing. He nodded expectantly.

“What is it?” he prompted, his face filled with insane glee.

“Aurora… you do take zeal in your work, don’t you?” Restless said, slowly and deliberately plucking a hair from his mane. Aurora nodded. “What do you know of Luna’s new child?”

“Nothing, as of now,” Aurora said sheepishly. “I will begin investigation at once.”

“I am disappointed in you, Aurora,” Restless sighed, “I expect some knowledge by the end of the week.”

“Of course,” Aurora’s face hardened. “It will be done.”

“Ventus,” Restless turned to the nervous pegasus, “alert the your brigade to move into Ponyville. The plan will be executed as soon as our silversmith finishes his work.”

“Of course, Restless,” Ventus scrawled out the instructions onto her her pad of paper. She flipped the page quietly. “anything else?”

“Well,” Restless flipped a pen in his twitching hooves, “you can check with your brigade and assure me they know the plan through and through.”

Ventus nodded as she scribbled more symbols.

“You may go,” Restless beckoned towards the door, “Ventus.”

“Your wishes will be carried out,” Ventus said coolly as she exited the room. “Never will I let you down.” The door slammed shut with a sturdy certainty, Restless turned to Aurora, who was standing, stone faced, in the center of the room.

“Any news concerning the arrival of your sister?”

“None, everything is on track,” Aurora flashed a smile. Restless grinned slightly. “Lighted Prism has received the letter, arrangements have been made.”

“Wonderful,” Restless smiled.

“Now, if you'll excuse me,” Aurora stood up. “I must pick up some equipment from our silversmith.”

“Bring them back here promptly,” Restless ordered as Aurora’s horn began to glow. “I would rather hope that they be safe on my shelves.”

“Of course,” Aurora said, light beginning to consume his form. “I will be back here after dusk.”

A sharp blast of orange light and Aurora was gone, leaving Restless to look back out at the riots. Evening was approaching now, and authorities were still grappling with the protesters. Restless sighed and shook his head as he returned to his desk chair.

A book lay open, filled with ancient runes and glowing text. Its paper was crumbling, only the stark outlines of the glowing text seeming to bind the fibres together. Restless looked began to read it intently, looking over each rune with a scrutinizing glare.

“Perfect,” he said to himself, slamming the book shut in a flurry of dust. “Now where is Glowing Night?”

Glowing Night looked over his library one more time. Every book was in order, every word in its place… he hoped. Glowing Night’s library seemed to have a mind of its own, shifting books from their shelves, even swapping covers and text. And Glowing found it very annoying to maintain.

The chandelier on the ceiling flickered as he double checked the rows of shelves. He liked things in order, despite what the books had in mind. Loose floorboards squeaked under hoof, bairly held on by bent over nail heads. Glowing Night enjoyed his work… but wished it would be a little more cooperative.

He was an earth pony with a deep brown coat and a ruffled black mane. His eyes were bright blue, but bloodshot from late nights of studying. His cutie mark was a circle, with strange runes surrounding it. He was Glowing Night. He was librarian of the Canterlot Royal Archive.

It was a strange job, he knew; especially in the ‘Physical Magic/Earth Wizardry’ section. The books themselves were so filled with magic, they were alive. Some of the more restless ones were chained down, bursting at their binds with anger.

Others merely sat on the shelves most of the time, sometimes fluttering from place to place when they felt like it. They had moods; sometimes they were grumpy, sometimes they were friendly, and sometimes they were angry. Reading a book when it was in a good mood was one of the more crucial pieces of information the scholar had to know.

If one wanted to, it could probably take your hoof off. Thus, for the brave and stout of heart, there were tough fibre gloves, made from the hide of dead animals (of course they died of old age!), for tackling the restless books. Even these were ripped and bitten, clear toothmarks etched into their hard surface.

Where the books got teeth, Glowing Night didn’t know, but he knew they had them and it was damn important you keep your hoof away from them. Glowing Night only worked here because he loved it. He loved magic, but, being an earth pony, he learned more… crude forms of it.

Magic circles, potions, hexes; he learned them all. Ancient texts had taught him, teaching the ways of magic before unicorns. They were all here, every single piece of known literature about his favorite subject, snapping and biting at their chains.

He turned to leave from the dimly lit penitentiary of literature, throwing a cloak over his flank as he prepared to endure the cold night ahead.

The hood slipped soundlessly over his head as the doors creaked open, opening into the gaping mouth of night. Rain gently pattered on the ground, trickling slowly down the stark marble steps. Glowing Night began to hustle out of the Archives before his books created more
problems.

But just as his hooves clattered on to the misty marble steps, a familier sound met his ears. A distinct ‘pop’ resonated from his desk. Glowing Night flattened his ears.

“Celestia’s flaming eyeballs,” he said under his breath, grumpily turning around and storming back into the building. The product of the sound lay on his desk, surrounded by a green glow. A scroll. Glowing Night sighed and sat down, picking the scroll up in frustrated hooves.

Behind him, a pink book fluttered across the library. Just beginning to unroll the letter, Glowing looked up impatiently. He grabbed a small lead ball and chucked it at the airiel paper. It fell to the ground and lay, stunned, on the floorboards.

The librarian turned back to the scroll, unrolling it. He began to read.

Dear Glowing Night,

I hope the letter finds you promptly, as it contains urgent information concerning you and your library. The Fellowship is prepared to support your building. I have looked over the text you sent me and all required materials are collected. Fifteen members have agreed, to my command, to assist your contruction of the circle whenever you wish to begin.

Please do it promptly, as the Fellowship may find the Child at any time. It must be ready as soon as we do. Aurora Burst’s sister, Sunset Shimmer, will be joining us for the final stages of the operation. Please; make haste.

Your cooperation in forwarding The Cause is very much acknowledged and thanked,

Signed,

Restless Vigil

“Cooperation,” Glowing Night said tritely, “he’d have my neck if I didn’t cooperate. But if it’s true what he says about freedom….”

The pink book twitched. On reflex from years of practice, Glowing leaped from his desk in one smooth move. He tackled the book with his body, rolling across the floor in his grapple with the piece of literature. Dust rose as he forced the hardback book onto the ground, spreading its jaws out with his hooves.

“Now,” he said, panting a little. The book twitched helplessly in his strong hooves. “Are you going to come quietly?”

The book struggled harder, but Glowing stood firm. He gritted his teeth and pushed down. There was a small snap and a cry of pain.

“Now,” he retreated his grip, “reconsider?”

He never knew how they screamed. It just sort of… happened. Sort of how they have teeth, he kept telling himself. The book went limp, almost nodding in resignment.

He picked the book up in his teeth and gently set it on the shelf. It was silent, only glowing faintly in the dim torchlight. Glowing sighed and walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

Now, he thought to himself, to begin…

It looked like a long way till dawn, but Glowing Night didn’t mind. His cloak was waterproof, his hooves used to the sloshy urban waters. It was probably better this way.

“I wonder if he’s awake,” he said thoughtfully. “I may as well try.”

Glowing night turned down Preach’s Hill Lane and began his trek into the deep, cold night.

Chapter 4

Daughter of the Night

Chapter Four

Introductions
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Starlight!” Twilight called, entering her bedroom. Sunlight seeped under the curtains, slowly illuminating the dark room. Aside the bed, in a small wooden cot the small form of Starlight lay, curled in a little ball and fast asleep.

“Wake up, sleepyhead!” Twilight said playfully, “I already let you sleep in.”

“Wha-” Starlight groaned, her eyes fluttering open. “Hello Twilight.”

“Good morning!” Twilight said cheerfully, opening the curtains with one swish of magic. Light poured in, engulfing everything in a cheerful aurora of daytime. Starlight squinted her eyes against the bright light.

“Big day today,” Twilight said, kneeling by Starlight’s low bed. “We get to go out.”

“Out!” Starlight jumped with excitement. Out was the subject of her fantasies ever since… well… yesterday. “When?” she asked eagerly, smiling widely at Twilight.

“Oh Starlight!” Twilight laughed, “In just a few moments. You wouldn’t want to miss breakfast, would you?”

“Oh, I suppose not,” Starlight said thoughtfully, “but right after breakfast?”

“Of course!” Twilight stood up and trotted to the door. “Oh yes,” she turned around, “I got you a present!”

“A present?” Starlight asked, hopping out of bed. “What kind of present?”

“If I tell you it would ruin the surprise,” Twilight said tauntingly, “but… I suppose you are going to find out anyhow. It’s a necklace!”

“Wow! Wait,” Starlight paused, “what’s a necklace?”

“A necklace,” Twilight explained, drawing a small wad of silver metal from her mane, “Is a pretty thing you wear around your neck.”

Starlight watched the hovering wad of metal float closer, and start to unwind into a chain. Slowly it produced to ends, creating a simple ornamented chain of metal. She cringed as the icy cold metal touched her warm skin, but waited patiently while the latch was done in the back.

“There!” Twilight exclaimed, looking at the squirming Starlight. “Don’t worry, it’ll warm up.”

“Okay,” she replied, doubting the validity of even Twilights words on the matter.

“Have a look,” Twilight said, engulfing a small mirror in magic and levitating it over in front of the filly. “Isn’t it pretty?”

Starlight looked at her own reflection curiously, and mighty admired the silver chain around her neck. In the very front of her neck, a pale aqua diamond hung, encrusted in silver. It was carved in the shape of a heart, and it shone pale blue light upon the ground before it. Starlight gasped.

“It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed, stepping back and looking at the pale blue glow on the floor. The diamond seemed to pulse, to pulse with light and energy, very slightly but noticeably if one looked carefully. “Thank you so much!”

Twilight laughed a little as Starlight hugged her legs, burying her face in Twilight’s lavender coat. She bent down and put a hoof around Starlight, returning the filly’s embrace.

There they remained, buried in the warmth of the other, until Starlight broke out of the heartwarming hug.

“So, where’s breakfast?”

A light breeze swept through Starlight’s dark purple mane, ruffling it ever so slightly. She stood in front of the library, looking over the green field that was the front lawn. The grass felt soft and inviting on her hooves, and the sunshine spread radiant warmth from the light blue sky.

Clouds dotted the never ending sky, slowly lumbering their puffy white forms across the horizon. Starlight stood stock still, taking in everything. In front of her, a small dandelion burst into full bloom, shining vibrant yellow colors from the center of its small green cocoon.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Twilight said, closing the door to the library behind her. A lock clicked into place with a small glow of purple magic. On the door, a sign flipped over revealing the words:

Out on business. Please come back soon!

“I’m taking the afternoon off so I can show you around,” Twilight said cheerfully, standing next to the amazed Starlight.

“It’s… wonderful,” Starlight finally stammered. The colors were bright and vibrant, and the sunshine was warm and inviting. It was more than she had ever imagined.

“Yes, it certainly is,” Twilight smiled. She remembered being taken aback with wonder in the same way when she was a little filly, but the amazement for books quickly overtook any that she had garnered for nature. But she always loved reading outdoors. It seemed to be a fair compromise between the two parts of herself.

“Come on!” Twilight exclaimed, looking down at Starlight with a twinkle in her eye. “Let’s show you around Ponyville.”

“Okay!” Starlight said boisterously, bouncing into the air with excitment.

“I agreed to meet Rarity this afternoon,” Twilight said, trotting down the lane with Starlight following close behind. “I’m sure she’ll love you.”

“Who’s Rarity?” Starlight asked quizzically, picking up speed so as to trot alongside Twilight.

“One of my friends,” Twilight said happily. “She loves to sew all sorts of things. In fact, that’s why we’re going to her boutique. One of my saddlebags got torn so she promised to mend it for me.”

“Oh,” Starlight said, craning her neck to gaze at a butterfly fluttering across the road.

“Rarity has a little sister, Sweetie Belle, who’s about your age,” Twilight lied (it wasn’t exactly lying, as they were at about the same developmental age.) “She’s probably in school, but maybe we could come back this evening. I’m sure you’d like her.”

“Me too!” Starlight exclaimed, looking at the dirt road in fascination. The dust thrown by their hooves completely enraptured Starlight in amazement. It was just so… dirty.

“There it is!” Twilight said, pointing towards a cylindrical building in the distance. It was purple with two layers, and every ornate curtain and decoration you could imagine. Starlight’s eyes practically popped out of her head when she saw it.

“It’s really… neat,” she said finally. Twilight chuckled.

“That’s Rarity!” she said, “Always going for the neatest and most fashionable things around.”

They aproached the boutique rapidly, chatting about grass and various other ‘outdoorsy’ things while they walked. The sun cast a long black shadow from behind the boutique, shielding them from the intrinsically hot rays as they approached the ornately decorated doors.

Twilight stepped forward and rapped a couple times with her hoof, motioning the hesitent Starlight to join her on the doorstep. Starlight slowly hopped up onto the small slab of granite that served as a doorstep for the boutique.

“Coming!” Rarity’s voice called from inside, followed by hurried hoofsteps.

The purple door swung open to reveal Rarity standing in the doorway holding a needle and thread.

“Ah, Twilight darling!” she exclaimed. “Do come in, you wouldn’t want to catch cold out there!”

“It’s late spring, Rarity,” Twilight said with a smile as she stepped inside.

“Ah yes, but even so,” Rarity replied, “you would like a cup of tea, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course,” Twilight said, “Rarity, I’d like you to meet-”

“I’ll set the water boiling at once!” Rarity cut her off, trotting towards the kitchen. Twilight stopped and rolled her eyes. She looked down at Starlight, only to discover the filly wasn’t at her side.

“Starlight?” she inquired softly. The little black and blue filly slowly stepped out from behind Twilight, looking somewhat sheepish.

“Yes?” Starlight squeaked.

“Don’t worry,” Twilight smiled warmly, “I just need to talk with Rarity for a few minutes. Why don’t you look around the shop for a little while?”

“That sounds great!” Starlight exclaimed, dashing to a nearby mannequin and staring at the intricate dress it wore in wonder. Twilight chuckled and walked into the kitchen, leaving Starlight to look around the boutique.

Starlight wandered around, gawking at the spectacular fashion products on display. Sparkling dresses, sequined saddlebags, whimsical hat… all dressed upon fantastical-looking mannequins. The stark white plaster body hiding beneath layer after layer of beautiful clothing.

Starlight walked slowly, looking at each display individually as she made a circle around the room. After passing a particularly whimsical display, showcasing Rarity’s spectacular hatmaking abilities, she saw something that stopped the young filly dead in her tracks. Herself.

There was no doubt about it. There, in the shiny glass window an identical Starlight stared at her, wide-eyed and shocked. Starlight quickly leaped to one side, eying the gold encrusted window with deep suspicion. One thing about the window puzzled her though: it didn’t seem to looking into anything.

It was simply a window on wheels, a window that showed whatever was happening in the room in a different room… or perhaps the same one? Starlight’s head reeled just thinking about it.

Anyway, she thought, it can’t do any harm to look again.

And so she did. And there the other Starlight stood, gazing into the glass. Starlight looked at herself, and moved a little. The other Starlight moved as well. She jumped, and so did the other Starlight.

“That is me!” she cried, “Amazing!”

After realizing exactly what the window on wheels was for, she thoroughly enjoyed it. She made funny faces at herself, and tried to see what her back looked like… all very worthy endeavors of a filly encountering her first mirror.

I bet I could look just like a princess with this necklace and these wings, Starlight pondered. She closed her eyes, spread her wings, and put her chin up. And then opened her eyes... and gasped in terror.

There she was in the mirror… a unicorn. Her wings had vanished from sight.

“So Rarity,” Twilight said, stepping into the kitchen. “I have something to tell you.”

It sounded more commanding than she meant it to, as though the words had run off with her emotion and crafted it into their own, darker concoction. Twilight realized this as soon as the naughty words left her mouth, and began to regret using them.

“Oh, of course dear,” Rarity hummed, setting a kettle on to boil. “It does sound important.”

“Well…” Twilight trailed off uncertainly. “In a way… Yes, it is.”

“Even the most important things look better over a steaming cup of hot tea,” Rarity stated, pouring the frothing brown liquid into two cups. The teakettle lowered back onto the table and the light blue glow of Rarity’s magic vanished, and promptly began to lift the teacups.

“So what was it you wanted to tell me, dear?” Rarity said, setting the cups down upon two coasters on her dining table and taking a seat herself. Twilight followed her in and took her place at the other side of the table, lifting her teacup daintily with a purple aura of magic.

“You know about Luna… and all that,” Twilight asked, clumsily trying to sip off the uppermost layer of tea. She ended up sucking at air, and looked down, very surprised and embarrassed, to find her tea a whole half an inch above her mouth. Rarity payed the circus no heed and daintily sipped on her glass as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Of course, nasty business. Do continue,” Rarity said, her pure blue eyes looking over the teacup.

“Right, well,” Twilight stammered, sipping on her tea for more time to think.

"Don't worry, dear," Rarity said, sipping her tea once more. "You can spit it out. It's among friends."

"Right..." Twilight's eyes darted nervously around the room as sweat beaded up on her forehead. Her mind was awhirl with explinations; none of which satisfied her. Suddenly, her eyes lit up. It was perfect!

"I have a niece in town for the month!" Twilight sighed, relieved. Rarity gave her a quizzical glance over her tea.

"What does that have to do with Luna?" Rarity asked, giving Twilight a slightly worried look.

"Oh, well," Twilight stammered. "Her parents have been VERY busy, as they do work for the crown and all."

"Who are her parents?" Rarity inquired, curiousity winning over her common sense. Twilight bit her lip and got a crazed look in her eyes.

"Shining Armor and Princess Cadence!" she blurted, surprised at even her own words. Rarity relaxed a little.

"How come we didn't know about it?" she asked, downing her tea in one sudden gulp. Interest in Twilight's story drowned any manners she had adhered to earlier in the meal. Her cup clinked onto the table as the magical aura dropped it upon the hardwood.

"Oh well," Twilight rubbed the back of her neck nervously. Her mind was so focused on the unfolding alibi that her concentration faltered, leaving the teacup in midair... and descending rapidly. Rarity gasped theatrically and enveloped the rouge porcelain in the blue aura of her magic, lifting it up and out of harms way.

“Sorry!” Twilight said hurriedly. “I just wasn’t thinking. I won’t-”

Rarity put a hoof to her lips and smiled. “If it did break, dear, I have far to many of those. Although, I do hate to see one go. But, do continue.”

“Well, Shining Armor didn’t tell me he was getting married until the invitation,” Twilight chuckled, “I suppose he’s simply too far away. He didn’t tell me he was a father either… until I got my first foalsitting job as an aunt.”

“That’s is rather funny-” Rarity began to ponder, but was cut off by a sharp crash. It came from the main room… The room in which Starlight was wandering.

Starlight was aghast. Those little dark blue feathers, her wings, were gone. She looked a simple unicorn in the mirror now. She liked those wings. They were HERS.

Rarity’s shop was just as warm and comforting as it was when Starlight entered, just as curious and full of surprises, but it seemed to have taken on a feeling of foreboding deep in the filly’s heart. It stole her wings. Obviously.

“Shop?” Starlight stammered, looking around the room nervously. No response came, but she continued. “What did you do with my wings?”

Nothing.

The mannequins sat on their pegs, expressionless. Starlight got the strangest feeling they were watching her. Watching her every move. And yet, they never moved. At all.

“I know you’re there,” Starlight said, shakily. “Where are my wings?”

Slowly, she began to back out of the room, her eyes darting around the boutique as she went. Then all of a sudden she hit something, something heavy, and toppled over backwards along with it, screaming in surprise.

Her head jerked upwards to see what she had hit, and were greeted with a smiling mannequin’s face. It seemed to be jeering at her from under its bright yellow sunhat. Its smile seemed evil, small and threatening.

“Gaa!” Starlight shouted, leaping up from the floor. But little did she notice, her necklace had fallen off in the excitement, and was now lying under the toppled mannequin. Its bright blue diamond glinted in the torchlight, but it was covered by a plaster foot.

“Dearie me!” Rarity exclaimed, rushing into the room. Twilight was close behind, and hurried to Starlight.

“Are you okay?” she asked, wrapping a hoof around the shaken filly.

“Th- th- the thing, it took my wings!” Starlight stammered, shaking violently. “It tried to bite me!”

“What makes you think it did that?” Twilight asked, glancing at Rarity. Rarity was shaking her head at the toppled mannequin, and starting to set things right with her magic.

“I couldn’t see my wings!” Starlight exclaimed. “In that!” she waved a hoof at the mirror.

Twilight smiled.

“We can talk more about that when we get back to the library,” Twilight said, looking at Rarity. “Right now, I think you should come have tea with us.”

“Okay,” Starlight replied shakily, getting to her wobbly hooves.

Twilight trotted over to Rarity, watching her straighten the last pin on the plaster mannequin. Starlight wobbled over there as well, slowly starting to get over the shock. She looked up at Rarity with big, sorrowful eyes.

“I’m really sorry,” she sobbed. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Don’t worry dear,” Rarity smiled. “I put everything back to where it was. It’s not your fault. These things happen all… the… time…” Rarity trailed off, looking at Starlight’s flank. There, little deep blue feathers formed tiny pegasus wings. She back up at Starlight’s little stub of a horn, and back at the wings.

“I see you got your mother’s wings!” she exclaimed, finally. Twilight gulped.

“I don’t think everypony should know,” she said firmly, remembering Luna’s advice.

Keep her hidden, keep her safe.

Those words still echoed in her mind, and the young librarian wasn’t about to not heed them. It seemed to her that if everypony knew Starlight was an alicorn, it would be a surefire way of finding her. And if there really was somepony, or something, looking for her, then it wouldn’t be good at all.

“Of course,” Rarity looked at the small feathers once more and smiled. “I suppose it wouldn’t do to let everypony get jealous of those fine wings.”

“Yes,” Twilight agreed, and then noticed something. “Starlight, where’s your necklace?”

“What?” Starlight looked down at her neck, and saw it bare and empty. “It was there a second ago…”

“It must have fallen off,” Twilight began looking about the room, and spotted a glinting blue shimmer from a dark corner behind a mannequin stand. She smiled and picked it up in her deep purple magic, lifting over to Starlight and doing the clasp around her neck. Instantly, the wings vanished from sight.

“There,” Twilight exclaimed, satisfied with her work. Rarity stared at the azure diamond, dazzled by its seemingly magical radiance. Starlight took that moment to size up Rarity in her mind.

To Starlight, the unicorn seemed quite nice, quite wealthy, and quite talented in the area of hat making. Although, her cutie mark did seemed odd for her profession. Diamonds? For hat (and dress) making? Starlight was willing to dismiss that oddity in favor for the fashionista's complexly styled mane. It was a far more interesting cut than Twilight’s simple flat, let-the-chips-fall-where-they-may studious mane.

All in all, Rarity seemed quite polite. Excruciatingly polite, even. But Starlight admired that. It must take an awful lot of practice to get that good at being polite; and, she figured, it must come in handy in sticky situations.

“Where did you get that?” Rarity asked, admiring the diamond. Starlight was wondering the same thing about the diamonds of Rarity’s flank, but she didn’t say anything. It was odd though.

“Sterling Silver in Trottingham made it,” Twilight explained nonchalauntly, “supposed to be the most enchantable necklace in Equestria.”

“I see,” Rarity took one last glance at it and turned to the kitchen. “Well, don’t just stand there! The tea’s getting cold!”

Tea. A strange substance made from brewing leaves of fragrent plants in boiling hot water. Discovered, by accident, by a rather clumsy chef who had a tendency to drink strange things (passed away after the incident with cleaning supplies). It was now a drink of the rich, the classy, and those who wished they were either of those things.

It was considered dainty, elegant. The drink of the elite. Starlight had come to the conclusion, however, that it was the drink of bitter ickiness.

Twilight and Rarity chatted and sipped their tea, but Starlight simply sat back in her seat and stared at the vile liquid with a revolted expression. How on Equestria could anypony drink this… sour, leafy drink? It seemed like it was a biology project gone amuck, and then put in an ornate glass and served to ‘classy’ ponies.

Classy ponies, Starlight deduced, were therefore completely devoid of either common sense or tastebuds. Or both.

“Come on, it’s good,” Twilight urged, sipping her own tea and crafting the cheesiest look of pleasure on her face that she could. Starlight poked the mug carefully with her hoof, but quickly drew it back.

“No,” she stated. “I don’t know how you drink leaves boiled in water. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Perhaps we should have showed her how to make it AFTER she tried it,” Rarity whispered to Twilight. Twilight nodded, but continued her unrelenting efforts to make the obstinate filly try the tea.

“Here,” Twilight said, levitating a small silver cup over from the middle of the table and setting it next to Starlight’s tea. “This is sugar. Sugar is good. A spoonful of it makes tea much tastier.”

“Just as my aunt used to say!” Rarity said happily. “A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down!”

Twilight took a small silver spoon in her magic and dipped it into the silver goblet, drawing it back out heaped with white powder. This she poured into the tea, and stirred it round with the spoon a few times before taking it out. Then, she pushed the suspicious looking liquid towards a skeptical Starlight.

“Go on!” Twilight urged, lifting the cup in her purple magic and holding it to Starlight’s lips. The filly looked at the sweet smelling brown liquid. Looked good enough.

*SLURRRRP*

“Good?” Twilight asked, smiling. Starlight nodded and grabbed the cup in her hooves, pouring the rest of the tea down her rapturous gullet.

“Very!” she exclaimed, setting the crockery down and licking her lips. Twilight and Rarity looked at each other and giggled. Starlight looked between them with eager eyes. “So what are we going to talk about?”

“Well,” Rarity pondered, “Twilight said she would show you around Ponyville, and I suppose I don’t have anything else to do so I could tag along.”

“That sounds great, Rarity,” Twilight smiled, “how are my saddlebags coming along, anyhow?”

“Oh, they’re all done, dear,” Rarity replied, “and you don’t need to thank me.”

“Thanks a lot, you’re a saviour,” Twilight said, ignoring Rarity’s request. “Are you sure you don’t want any payment? It really meant a lot to me.”

“No, no,” Rarity smiled, “generosity is my element, after all. Anything for a dear friend.”

“What’s an element?” Starlight asked innocently. Twilight and Rarity looked at the filly and grinned.

“I know what your bedtime story’s going to be!” Twilight exclaimed. Starlight looked straight at the happily smiling mare.

“Okay, but what’s an element?” she asked, “And why is it generous?”

“There are six elements, and Twilight and her friends wield them together to perform powerful feats of magic and protect Equestria,” Rarity explained, “I am the element of generosity, and Twilight is the element of magic and- Well, you’ll meet them soon enough.”

“Yes, in fact I have a little errand with Pinkie Pie,” Twilight said, “I promised I’d help her put up decorations for a party tomorrow.”

“Ah yes,” Rarity reminisced, “Mrs. Cake’s half-birthday-and-five-hours party. It does sound like fun, although the reason does seem a little far-fetched.”

“Yeah,” Starlight agreed, “It sounds like she’ll make up anything to make to make a reason for a party.”

“You got that one right!” Twilight laughed, “We really need to enroll you in the school, you’re staying a few weeks and you’re quite a smart little filly. I’m sure you’ll like the schoolhouse, in fact, let’s stop by after we visit Pinkie.”

“Okay,” Starlight nodded. “But what about the other… three elements?”

“Oh, they’ll come over to the library this evening. I’ll mail some invitations.”

“Okay.”

“Alright,” Twilight glanced at Rarity’s clock. It was ornately decorated with silver and gold (or at least, brass and nickel) carvings of cats and balls of string. Amid the metallic chaos, a mother cat’s tongue acted as the hands, washing the kittens once every hour.

“We better be leaving,” Twilight said, standing up. “Thanks for the tea Rarity!”

“Don’t mention it,” Rarity smiled, “I’ll be over this evening.”

“Alright,” Twilight nodded, and then started to trot out the door. “Come on, Starlight!”

Starlight jumped off her chair and began to walk out of the dining room, but stopped. She looked back at Rarity, and said, rather softly, “Thank you.” And began to walk out again, but stopped once more, threw a curious look over her shoulder, and trotted outside behind Twilight.

Pinkie had been waiting for Mrs. Cake’s Half-birthday-and-five-hours party for quite a while, so she was understandably excited when the day for preparing finally rolled around. Sugarcube Corner, she decided, was going to see the best party yet!

Although she always said that. And it was probably going to be just the same old thing, yet another hollow promise.

“Hey! You! Stop making fun of my vows! I know what you're playing at, mister narrator in the sky!”

You do?

“Yeah, I do!” Pinkie shouted, “And don’t you forget it.”

And how are you even talking to me?

“Hey! Watch it! I’m Pinkamena Diane Pie, remember?” Pinkie cried, staring… me straight in the face. Fine. You win. “Good!”

Can we please get back to the story?

“Sure,” Pinkie smiled and bounced towards her work, but then threw… me, apparently, a cold glare over her shoulder. Anyhow…

It would be a fantastical party, one that Ponyville would not long forget. Ages would pass by, and Mrs. Cake’s half-birthday-and-five-hours party would stand out, forever blazing among Equestria’s many accomplishments. It would inspire foals-

“Don’t over do it!”

RIght. Now. Let’s try that again.

It was noontime and the sun was high in the sky when Twilight trotted up to Sugarcube Corner and rapped on the door. Starlight walked behind her, looking all around Ponyville with wide eyes of interest. It was such a bustling town!

A few moments after knocking on the door, Starlight got the distinct feeling that the air pressure around the bakery was rising by an order of magnitude, and she began to fear for the saftey of reality itself, and started to back away from the door. The door seemed to bend outward, as if a strange pressure was bulging from the inside; even Twilight flinched.

*POW!*

“Hey Twilight!” Pinkie shouted as she exploded out of Sugarcube Corner, boisterously bowling Twilight over and onto the ground, holding her pink body aloft as she looked down at the surprised librarian. “That’s great you could come!”

“Yeah,” Twilight said weakly, picking herself up dusting herself off. “Pinkie, I’d like you to meet-” Twilight froze. Where was that filly?

“Who?” Pinkie asked, looking up from digging through a box of party supplies. A triangular hat was already on her head. It was a bilious6 purple. The kind of purple that makes anything it is sitting exponentially uglier. Twilight cringed at the thought of having to wear one, much less go to a party full of them.

“Starlight!” Twilight called, for lack of anything better to say. Pinkie cocked her head to one side and narrowed her eyes.

“Are you hiding somepony from me?” she asked suspiciously. “Because I don’t like being sneaked around with…”

“There you are!” Twilight exclaimed, rushing over to Starlight, who was walking slowly out of the bushes. In Twilight’s mind, she was relieved she didn’t lose the royal daughter that had been entrusted to her care. But deeper inside of her, something else seemed to relax. Something that was worried about Starlight’s disappearence for more than just princess Luna’s instructions. Something Twilight couldn’t put a hoof on, no matter how hard she tried.

“I was just surprised,” Starlight said, sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry,” Twilight smiled, and whispered softly in the filly’s ear. “I was just as surprised as you when I first met Pinkie. You get used to it-”

“Hey! What did I say about sneaking?!” Pinkie demanded, inexplicably lowering her head between the two. Twilight recoiled from surprise, and Starlight was frozen in pure terror as she looked at Pinkie’s hooves. They were floating on air.

“Wha-” she started, staring at the suspended hooves in bewilderment. But then, just as soon as they were in the air, they thumped to the ground, and Pinkie began to stare at Starlight shrewdly. Starlight stared back, but the sheer ridiculousness of the situation tied her brain in knots and gave her a headache.

“Oooh! Shiny!” Pinkie oggled, staring at the azure diamond around Starlight’s neck with intense admiration. “Oh, and I think we didn’t get introduced,” Pinkie giggled, holding out her hoof. Starlight took it cautiously. You never could be too careful, after all. “I’m Pinkie Pie, and you’re Starlight Crescent! But I bet you already knew that though,” Pinkie winked. “We’re going to be great friends!”

“Yeah… I guess…” Starlight stuttered. “But how did you know my name?”

“I know many things, young filly,” Pinkie said in a deep, condescending voice, “such as… Cupcakes taste good, care to try one?”

“Um, sure,” Starlight said uncertainly, preparing to let go on any idea of logic. As if to confirm that thought, Pinkie reached behind her back and pulled out a cupcake tray of the most perfect, most picturesque, and most delicious looking cupcakes. Starlight’s mouth began to water. They looked beautiful.

“Here, try one!” Pinkie offered, holding tray in front of Starlight with an obliging smile. “We’ve got cherry, and cherry, and cherry, and… more cherry!”

“Oh, thanks,” Starlight replied, reaching for one with her hoof. She stopped, however, when one of the cupcakes floated gently off the tray and weaved its way through the air and stopped in front of Twilight.

Levitation, Starlight thought, staring at the floating cupcake, I wonder if I could do that.

Slowly, she lowered her hoof and closed her eyes. A little spark of magical power flew from her horn as it flickered to life, drifting through the air, and lightly singeing one of Pinkie’s cupcakes. Starlight’s face contorted with concentration, the only sound she could hear was that of her own heartbeat and her own horn.

The cupcake that Starlight had been reaching for, the one with a lightly browned spot on the icing flickered a little. A soft white magical aura began to form about its delicious surface, it seemed to be encased in moonlight, in pure nighttime energy. Then, amidst the confused stares of Twilight and the bemused ones of Pinkie, Starlight gave the final push.

“THERE SHE BLOWS!” Pinkie shouted, gesturing excitedly towards a disappearing black speck in the sky. Starlight relaxed, realizing her grip on the cake had slipped away, as its rapid ascent had taken place. Slowly, she looked up at the sky, and then at the tray.

“I only wanted it to go up a little bit,” Starlight mumbled, and turned to face a severe look from Twilight. Pinkie was sitting on the ground now, looking through a pair of binoculars at the sky… assumedly at a tiny black dot.

“I’m sorry,” Starlight apologized to Twilight, “I won’t do it again.”

“It’s burning up in the atmosphere!” Pinkie shouted from behind her binoculars. Twilight sighed and gave Starlight a pat on the mane.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, “I would have done the same thing at your age. In fact, I did.”

“Woah! It’s entering SPACE!” Pinkie cried, staring intently through her binoculars, “I’m gonna need something more powerful.”

“Thanks,” Starlight said, “I won’t do it again until you’ve taught me.”

“WOW!” Pinkie shouted, looking through a very large telescope suddenly placed on the lawn outside of Sugarcube Corner. “It’s going into orbit!”

“Yes, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it very fast,” Twilight chuckled. From behind the telescope, Pinkie gasped.

“It’s not just in orbit, but its orbiting its orbit!” she cried, “This is amazingly-superduper-awesomely cool!”

“What?” Twilight said, staring at Pinkie with a slightly annoyed and confused look. Pinkie looked up from her work, staring back at Twilight with a wide grin on her face. “You can not orbit your orbit, it’s impossible.”

“Sure you can, silly,” Pinkie rolled her eyes, “have a look.”

Twilight bore an annoyed expression when she walked over to the telescope and put her eye up to the viewing lens. She looked in for a few minutes, and then stood up and shook her head.

“I don’t see anything,” she said. Pinkie cocked her head to one side and dashed over to the viewing lens and gazed in. Slowly she shook her head and stood back.

“You made me lose my cupcake!” she said accusingly, glaring at Twilight and Starlight. “Now I have to go get it.”

“What?”

“I have to go get it,” Pinkie sighed and climbed into a large pink rocketship that suddenly appeared next to her. “Be back in a few hours.”

“I’ll never understand her,” Twilight sighed as the rocket shot off the ground in a flurry of flames and smoke. Starlight nodded in agreement. “Anyhow, let’s go visit the schoolhouse, they should be finishing school for the day soon.”

“Okay,” Starlight said, doggedly trotting after Twilight down Mainstreet and on to a small dirt path that wound a short way to a red barn. That’s the school house? Starlight thought, That’s odd.

“Alright class!” Cheerily cried as the last bell of the day rang, “Have a good afternoon.”

“You too, Mrs. Cheerily,” the class chirped. Everypony was glad the school day was over, and as such everyone wanted to get out of the door as soon as possible. In record time, books flashed into saddlebags, saddlebags clipped onto bodies, and bodies bolted outside and into the beautiful sunshine.

Twilight and Starlight trotted up the hill just as a barrage of students hurtled down it, leading to quite a bit of confusion and dust. Happy shouts and cries filled the air as the schoolfoals galloped down the road, but Twilight stood stock still and let the storm peter out.

Eventually, the class had left and the road was clear. Starlight had clutched on to one of Twilight’s legs in terror, but now relaxed and let go, shaking herself free of both dust and terror that had amassed during the swarm. Twilight shook her head and muttered, “Foals,” under her breath.

“Anyhow,” Twilight said, slightly more cheerfully, “let’s go see if Cheerily takes temporary students.”

“Those,” Starlight gasped, waving a hoof at the disappearing cloud of dust in the distance, “are my classmates?”

“Yes,” Twilight said, and then added, “But they’re quite nice once you get to know them.”

Starlight wasn’t too sure about this, but let the question ride. She followed Twilight up the road and into the barn… or schoolhouse… or both.

Cheerily was sitting at her desk, looking over papers from the day’s studying when the two walked in. She looked up almost instantly, a warm and friendly smile on her face.

“Hello!” she said cheerfully, “It is nice to see you Twilight. What brings you up here?”

“Hi Cheerily,” Twilight replied in a somewhat nervous tone. “Do you take temporary students?”

“I sure do, why?” the teacher inquired, and then saw a purple tale disappear behind Twilight’s legs.

“My niece, Starlight, is in town for a few weeks and I was hoping you could take her on as a student,” Twilight said politely, the tail disappearing on the other side of her legs this time.

“If she’s willing to do a little extra work to catch up, sure,” Cheerily nodded. “How old is she?”

“Three da- I mean, three years,” Twilight said, and then looked behind her. “Come on out,” she whispered. Almost immediately, Starlight poked her head out from behind Twilight, unsure of exactly what was going on, and somewhat scared.

“Why hello there!” Cheerily said in a warm tone, looking at Starlight with her smiling face. Starlight liked her instantly, although, this incessantly cheerful demeanor COULD get sickening at times. But right now wasn’t one of those times, and Starlight quite liked it.

“Hi,” she said happily. Twilight smiled. This was the happiest she had ever talked in a long while.

“So you’ll be joining us on Monday then, will you?” Cheerily said joyfully, “We always welcome new friends.”

“That’s good,” Starlight smiled, “Because I’m coming whether you welcome me or not.”

“That’s settled then,” Cheerily laughed. Starlight had a tongue-in-cheek way with words that was so clever, and when coupled with her cuteness one couldn’t help laughing.

“Alright, see you then,” Twilight said, grabbing Starlight’s hoof. “We better be going.”

“Bye!” Cheerily cried, “See you Monday!”

Twilight hummed to herself as she set the water on to boil. She had taken extra care this time to make sure the fire wasn’t too hot, and she didn’t have anything else going on at the same time. It had amazed Twilight how she had managed to burn water; but with the black scum scrubbed off, she tried once more to make tea.

The library was silent, naught but a few cricket’s chirps disturbing the air. Starlight was fast asleep upstairs, fatigued from her afternoon of learning and befriending. The candles were lit and the lanterns placed; a warm glow radiated about the library.

Everything was as it should be: tidy, orderly, and generally pleasant. Spike was taking a nap, being quick to the realization that it was unnecessary to fix the stairs. Twilight took this moment to catch her breath and take in the tranquil state of affairs.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

Twilight stopped mid breath. Nopony called in the evenings, certainly not on the weekends. Hmm, she thought, Who could it be?

She began to walk towards the door, but a sharp squealing came from the kitchen. “Just a minute!” Twilight shouted, remembering the burnt water. “Hold on!”

She walked back into the kitchen and lifted the boiling tea pot off the stove, setting it on a wooden cutting board. “There,” Twilight said, half accusingly at the pot, “don’t you do anything clever like burn, okay?”

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!*

Twilight began walking back towards the door, thinking of who it could be at this time of night. There was a jiggling noise, like somepony was trying the locked door from outside; Twilight began to reach for the door handle.

“GAA!” she screamed, leaping back in surprise. The door was thrown open by a strange magic, just barely missing Twilight’s nose in the process. “What-”

She stopped. In the doorway, a sinister, cloaked unicorn stood. He smiled, in an insane kind of way, and stepped forward. Twilight began to inch towards the kitchen, unsteadily looking at the strange figure.

“Miss Sparkle,” the figure said in a rasping voice. “How is your evening?”

“How do you know who I am?” Twilight said, continuing to back away from the advancing figure.

“We know an awful lot about Celestia’s prize pupil,” Aurora said, throwing back the brown hood and revealing his yellow and red mane. “I would be more concerned about what you know about us.”

“Who are you?” Twilight stepped against a wall, sweating in fear. Aurora continued to advance as he spoke.

“That answers my question very nicely, thank you,” Aurora said in mock politeness. “I do think you would find it wise to follow my instructions… without protest.”

“No,” Twilight’s horn glowed as she picked up the steaming pot of boiling hot water in her ethereal glow. “I’m not doing anything you say.”

“You haven’t even heard what we want yet!” Aurora chuckled. “Please, do come with me. I think you would find it intelligent. We know you have plenty of intelligence.”

“No!” Twilight shouted, her horn glowing brighter. The kettle flew into the room from the kitchen, surrounded in the purple aurora. The magic faded away and let the kettle continue on its own momentum, speeding towards Aurora Burst.

He whirled around to face it, and, with a flash of his horn, sent it hurtling in the other direction. Twilight took this moment to strike with a spell of her own,sending Aurora to the other wall in one, swift barrage of energy. He collapsed to the ground in defeat.

“Very good, Miss Sparkle,” he said pathetically, “Very good. But if only you were slightly smarter… Spoon!”

Twilight whirled around, facing the kitchen door. It bursted in, splintering into tiny pieces of wood and glass. A gray stallion charged in, and shifted his course towards the librarian. Twilight’s horn glowed as she poured energy into the air, crafting a barrier.

*WHAM*

Sparkling Spoon hit the purple wall with a crunch, crumpling to the ground. The barrier exploded into a cloud of purple sparks, dissipating rapidly. Aurora was back on his hooves in a flash, with a glowing horn. He laughed as he let loose a yellow bolt, hurtling towards Twilight.

She turned around to face it, but not in time. Twilight hit the floor with a thud, watching the world fade away around her. Before her senses were completely overtaken, she heard Aurora say three words. They were slow and deliberate, as though praying to an unseen power… or simply talking to himself.

“Celestia… Will… Die…”

Chapter 5

Daughter of the Night

Chapter Five

New Arrival
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crickets chirped. It was a quiet, lulling sound; one that nature produces to remind us of its presence. Some cultures refer to them as Birds of the Night, but their mating chirp serves a vastly different service than the birds’ calls.

The soft, ambient melody wafted through valleys, across woodlands and throughout rivers. It seeped in through the cracks in the windows, causing a whole family to smile as they tucked their foals into bed. Some lie outside, basking in the milky glow of the moon, watching the fireflies dance out ballet to the music of the crickets.

Fluttershy always liked crickets, their soft, distant chirp resembling her voice. She smiled as they struck up their wings in the evening, and let out her animals to play in the soft light of dusk. Now, Starlight heard them for the first time.

“What are those?” she asked, sitting up in bed. Fluttershy stopped and turned around, smiling gently.

“Those,” she told Starlight, “are crickets. They make the most beautiful noise, don’t you think?”

“I do like it,” Starlight agreed, yawning.

“It’s been a big day,” Fluttershy said, softly, “Twilight will be with you through the night, and we’ll take you out in the morning.”

“Okay,” Starlight said, lying back down in the velvet sheets. “Goodnight.”

The light died as Fluttershy blew the candle out in a whiff of smoke. Blackness descended on the room, and already she could hear the soft, even breathing of a sleeping foal. She smiled, and descended down the stairs.

“Have you seen her?” Applejack asked, worriedly. Fluttershy gave a quizzical glance from behind her light pink, curling mane.

“Who?” she asked, slightly bewildered.

“Twilight!” Applejack exclaimed. “Honestly, either she’s been foalnapped or she’s gone wandering. It’s not like her to not tell anypony.”

“We could ask Spike,” Fluttershy suggested.

“Nah, he doesn’t know either!” Rainbow called from upstairs. “He’s been asleep since early this afternoon.”

“Hwhat?” a small voice said.

“Go back to bed,” Rainbow snapped.

“What’s going on?” the voice said, gaining a bit of confidence. Rainbow sighed.

“Twilight’s missing!” Pinkie cried happily as she bounced out of the kitchen. “Ooooh, I just LOVE hide and seek!”

“I don’t think that’s-” Applejack began.

“WHAT?” Spike’s voice, no longer small and confused, shouted. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“We didn’t want to disturb-” Rarity started, but to no avail.

“Oh geez! We gotta write a letter to the princess right away, and one to Shining Armor, and one to her parents… I don’t even know their addresses! Get me the yellow pages, will you?”

“Calm down, upstart!” Applejack shouted, “Whoa nelly. You’re right, Spike, but the princess will be gettin’ her well-earned rest right now. I doubt she’d be able to do anything about it immediately! Besides, we aren’t even sure if Twi’s just out on errands or summit.”

“I guess you’re right,” Spike sighed. “But if she’s not home by morning, I’m sounding the alarm.”

“Sounds good to me,” Applejack said. She turned to Pinkie Pie, whose current gear was idle, or bounce up and down in place. “Pinkie, learn anything in the kitchen?”

“Yup!” she reported, leaping a few inches into the air, but landing again with a serious, businesslike demeanor. “She’s been captured!”

“How do you know that?” Rarity asked, remembering Pinkie’s past reputation with using and collecting evidence.

“They broke the window!”

“Okay,” Applejack said slowly, scratching her hat. Rainbow hovered overhead, scrunching her face up in concentration. Fluttershy quietly thought in the back of the room, and Rarity listened intently from the sofa.

“But I still say that you need more than that to go on,” she said, finally.

“How about… they left a shoe?” Pinkie said, hopefully. She held up a pristine leather dress shoe, the only tarnish on it a white scratch running along its length.

“That looks very nice,” Rarity pondered, “I could have sworn I saw it somewhere…”

“A clue!” Rainbow swooped down and grabbed it, lifting the shoe into the air; with Pinkie dangling off of it.

“It’s a shoe, silly!” she giggled, looking down. “Hey, I can see everything at once from here!”

“Right,” Rainbow said, sweating. “Why don’t I just let you down slowly?”

“Okay!”

Rainbow slowly descended, straining her wings to prevent a short, and rather unpleasant trip to the ground. All eyes were one the airborne duo as Pinkie dangled her feet in the air, giggling.

“There,” Rainbow said, depositing Pinkie on the ground. She ascended into the air again, examining the shoe with ecstatic curiosity. Her face burst into a wide, expanding grin, and she looked down.

“It’s like a Daring Doo novel!” Rainbow said, looking at the shoe; her eyes bulged as if trying to intimidate the shoe into revealing its secrets. “Somepony’s foalnapped Twilight, and we’ve gotta find out who it is!”

“Uh, you may be right on that one, sugarcube,” Applejack said, cautiously.

“Maybe there’s some kind of secret organization!” Rainbow continued, her eyes growing wider every second. Everypony in the room took a step back… never knowing what might happen next.

“Oh! I’ll bet that there’s an evil mastermind, and all his little servants,” Rainbow marveled at the thought. “I bet there’s some right here in Ponyville! They could even,” she looked around suspiciously, “be in this room.”

“Spies!” Pinkie cried. Applejack threw her a leveling glare, but the pink mare continued to look around desperately. “Oh, I know what they’re playing at!” she drew herself up, an air of seriousness surrounding her otherwise cheerful figure. It was all Applejack could do to keep from laughing. “They wanna spy on us with their spyey spies? Well, I can out spy their spyey spies with my little spyey eyes!”

“Hey, maybe we should ALL be spies!” Rainbow suggested.

“Sounds dangerous,” Fluttershy mumbled. Rainbow threw up her hooves in exasperation, letting out a huff of defeat.

“Of COURSE it’s dangerous!” she cried, “What fun would it be if it wasn’t dangerous?”

“Very,” Fluttershy whispered timidly.

“NONE!” Rainbow corrected her, “That’s how much fun it would be! None! Where’s the fun in just sitting around and being all protected? I, for one, would rather be out uncovering a secret orginization!”

“I still think that sounds-”

“Whatever,” Rainbow sighed and turned to the others. “Are YOU at least interested in this?”

“I think it sounds like a very… dirty affair,” Rarity huffed. Applejack threw her a cold stare, causing her mind to backpedal at a terrific rate. “Of course,” she said, sweating, “I am working on a new line of galoshes…”

“I think we should do anything, if it means gettin’ Twilight back,” Applejack said, eyeing Rarity.

“Pinkie?” Rainbow turned; and quickly turned back again. Pinkie was dressed in a stretchy black suit, wearing gigantic goggles, and twirling a rope with a hook on it in one hoof.

“Let’s out-spy some spies!” she shouted, and charged towards the door. Everyone cringed, preparing for the imminent crash, but it never came. There was a screech as Pinkie’s hooves slid to a halt, and she stared quizzacally at the door.

“I mean,” she said, throwing the door open with a crash. “Let’s open some doors!”

“...Right,” Rainbow managed to say, after Pinkie charged into the gloom. “I suppose… we better… help her then?”

Spike dipped a quill in ink and unrolled a scroll of yellowed parchment onto Twilight’s writing desk. The pen paused over the paper for a few moments as he thought of what to write; the ink dropped unceremoniously onto the paper,creating a black splotch in the upper right hoof corner.

Eventually, a letter formed in Spike’s head, and he began to write. The sound of a quill scratching away on parchment filled the library, accompanying the crickets’ perpetual melody. A melody of sadness, but also one of hope: hope that what one wished, when expressed through proper and polite manners, would be granted.

As Spike wrote, all he could think about was Twilight; the mare who had raised him from an egg, who had hatched him, who had been the closest thing to a mother he had ever had. And everyone knows how protective dragons get of their kin.

“Crystal Prism!” Shining Armor called, looking up from the letter. The blasted letter. Every time he got used to this place, it was pack your bags and back to the guard. Crystal’s shimmering face popped into the doorway.

“Yes sir?” he said, advancing into the room. Crystal Prism was a tall, slender unicorn. His light blue coat sparkled in the dancing light of the Crystal Palace, as his dark white mane refracted the light.

It was strange, but Crystal Prism’s mane always had this… talent. It could turn incoming light into rainbows, dancing off walls and ceilings, and that was the very magic Prism specialized in. Light magic; the art of manipulating the finest and most powerful energy to create anything. His cutie mark was a triangular piece of crystal, casting a rainbow.

Shining Armor clicked his tongue as he threw down the letter. His powder blue mane was well groomed, and his eyes set in the most irritated glare Prism had ever seen. “I need you to look after things while I’m gone,” Shining said, levitating his Royal Guard uniform out of the closet. “I’ve got business in Canterlot.”

“Yes sir!” Crystal said, beaming. “You can count on me, sir!”

“I should hope so,” Shining said, slipping the last of the brass buttons through its proper hole. “Don’t let anything get out of control here, you understand?”

“What do you mean, sir?” Crystal inquired, walking out into the hallway with the captain. “It seems peaceful enough, these days.”

“There’s been some trouble with the royal family, and Canterlot’s got riots,” Shining said, pushing a glistening crystal door open and stepping into the plaza. “That’s why I’m leaving. Celestia needs some help.”

“Oh dear,” Crystal Prism said worriedly, “that won’t happen here, sir!”

“Glad to hear it,” Shining said, walking towards the towering smoke of the train station. “But there’s something up, keep an eye out, will you?”

“Yes sir!” Crystal Prism saluted as the prince walked out of sight, towards the brick and glass structure of the train station. He turned and trotted back inside, a grin upon his face.

He had been lying through his teeth for the whole conversation. Something’s up indeed! If anything was up, it was him.

The Grand Clock struck three, its booming chimes echoing through the palace. Crystal stopped, glancing at the clock. “I’d better get moving,” he muttered, setting off at a fast trot into the palace, “she’ll be here any second now.”

Canterlot was in tatters. Riots by the nobles besieged the castle, smoldering guard houses billowed smoke. It had turned violent, and pretty was not a word anypony sane would use to describe it.

Celestia watched it from her balcony, shaking her head as shouts from the streets found their way to her ears. It was only a matter of time until it died down, of course, but the lasting unrest would bear a scar on the city for years to come.

Shining Armor is on his way, she thought, turning away from the gruesome sight and walking indoors, he can help.

Two days it had been; two days without Luna. Without the loving wing of a sister to hide under. Without the joy of mentoring a younger sibling. Without Luna, the world was dark and foreboding, all corners were eerie. The night sky was blood of her sister, a sight Celestia could not bear to see at a time like this.

Cadence raised the moon while Celestia raised the sun. Slowly she was healing, but the hole in her heart where Luna had been would never repair; not until her sister’s return.

The Vuxian wood could not be replaced, as Vux was destroyed long ago, so the balcony was repaired with the dark fibre of ebony wood. It was smooth and beautiful, blending with the remaining Vuxian wood like a chameleon, but skilled eyes could note the difference.

“Celestia!” the door of the princess’s throne room was thrown open, revealing a shocked guard. “The portal!”

“What?” Celestia raised an eyebrow.

“The portal in Cadence’s domain, we have reason to believe it has opened off schedule!”

“Don’t worry, there are far more serious things going on,” Celestia assured the harried guard. “I’m sure whoever Shining left in charge will deal with whatever happens. Come, Sergeant Polish, have a look at the city.”

She motioned the the balcony, beckoning Polish to join her as she walked towards it. He followed reverently, although slightly bewildered. Sergeant Polish looked out over the city, the breathtaking view tarnished by shouts from the streets.

“Beautiful?” Celestia asked. Polish nodded silently, examining a nearby cloud. Clouds weren’t supposed to be this close, were they?

“Now imagine,” Celestia continued, “it consumed in flame. Imagine the streets filled with pitchforks and torches, imagine the castle burning. The billowing smoke breaking the night air as mobs murder your friends and family for bearing any relation to the crown.

“Now imagine that not happening. Imagine your regiment valiantly beating order back into the city, not demoralized or angry like the citizens. Imagine the passion you would feel, protecting your loved ones by subduing the mobs.

“Ponies are free to express themselves, Polish,” Celestia finished, “but mobs kill. Mobs lose control. Mobs must be stopped.”

Polish stood still for a few moments, tears welling up in his eyes. His glistening brass helmet shone in the sunlight as he stared straight ahead, fighting back the tears. “Yes… Yes, your highness,” he eventually stuttered, “That won’t happen.”

“Good,” Celestia said cooley, walking back inside. Polish followed her, determination overtaking sadness on his face.

“I won’t let that happen, your highness, it won’t,” he said firmly. Resolutely, he straightened his helmet and saluted to the princess. She flashed a quick smile, before returning to her calm, placid demeanor.

“I’m very glad to hear it,” she said, “now get out there and stop it!”

“Yes ma’am!” Polish marched out of the room with confidence. The scared stallion that entered left firm, with determination and dignity. Celestia grinned as she heard the timed stomp of regimented hooves break into a gallop as soon as Polish was out of sight.

“Off you go, Polish,” she said quietly, “save your family.”

Cadence trotted down the hallway, her mane gleaming in the torchlight as she headed to open court. Celestia would be joining her, she hoped, but the ponies expected opening times to stay the same, so she filled in. She stopped once she reached the gilded door, her jaw dropping in surprise as she viewed the court.

Ponies were everywhere, lined up beyond her sight, and they didn’t look happy. She surveyed the scene, her eyes worriedly darting from disgruntled citizen to disgruntled citizen. A guard sidled up to her, holding a bugle in one hoof.

“Ready, your highness?” he asked, raising his horn to his lips. A second guard did the same, billowing his cheeks full of air to prepare for the blowing.

“Yes- I think so,” Cadence managed, wildly grabbing at any passing emotion that wasn’t pure terror. “Go ahead.”

She smoothed her mane and lifted her chin, and, as the bugles sounded, walked out into the seething mass of citizens. Quickly, she got on the throne, and watched as the guards pulled together one last shred of effort and corralled the ponies into a line.

Cadence sat with a firm face, her crown’s pure blue crystal casting a triangle of tinted light before her. She looked quite imperial, but inside she wanted to scream.

“Come forth,” she said in a regal tone of voice, “and voice your concerns.”

A nervous gray stallion in a farm hat walked forward; Cadence bore down on him with a steely glare.

“W- Well,” he stuttered, “I was a little concerned and befuddled by all this princess Luna talk. I mean, my family runs a produce shop, and I was just wonderin’ how it might affect me?”

“Ah,” Cadence said. And so it begins, she thought to herself. “I can see where you might worry, mister Apple,” continued Cadence, “but I shouldn’t worry about Luna. Her issue will most certainly not affect you, unless others choose to make it do so.”

She threw a acidic glare to the ponies in the back holding signs. They quickly turned the signs the other direction and lowered them, turning a bright shade of red in process.

“Thanks, princess,” mister Apple said, turning around and trotting back along the line. A yellow mare stepped forward, her exquisite lipstick and refined monocle, at first glance, making Cadence positively want to gag.

“Yes?” she raised an eyebrow and tried to look interested.

“Princess Cadence,” the mare droned in a slow and meticulous voice. Here we go, Cadence thought. “I would like to know if you intend to keep that… serpent, Luna, on, after her, shall we say, disturbing incident, for which she should be punished and discredited for?”

“The bitch,” the mare breathed, too low for anypony to hear, except Cadence. She pricked her ear up and caught it, just in time, before it vanished into the air.

Cadence was boiling inside. Serpent? Bitch?! Luna was like an aunt to her! She was Celestia’s sister, and a damn good one at that if we want to get into it, but how dare this mare insult her like a streetpony?

“What leads you to believe princess Luna is that?” Cadence said, the anger draining slowly through the tiny hole in her self restraint.

“Luna is what?” the mare droned.

“A bitch.” The whole court went silent, until the mare spoke up.

“I said no such-”

“You DID!” Cadence stood up, glaring at the impertinent aristocrat with fiery eyes.

“I did not-”

“STOP IT!” a voice boomed. Cadence and the mare turned to face the offender. Celestia stood in the doorway, a steely look in her face. “What exactly is going on here?”

“This mare just insulted your sister!” Cadence said accusingly.

“I did not!” the mare insisted, turning up her nose away from the princess.

“Cadence,” Celestia said softly, putting a wing around the young princess. “She is wrong and you are right, but this isn’t kindergarten. This is politics. In politics you insult people in much more subtle and devious ways. But right now it is time to exercise patience.”

“I just got so angry, I-” Cadence started. Celestia put a hoof to her lips and smiled.

“I am happy that you feel so strongly about protecting my sister, but we must learn to let some of it go,” Celestia said, smiling. “Now. Shall we return to court? Perhaps you should watch me for a little while.”

Cadence nodded. Celestia retracted her wing and the duo returned to the regal thrones, Cadence sitting in Luna’s usual seat. The next assailant stepped forward, cautiously. It was a posh, aristocratic pony, who obviously had a piece of her mind out and ready to hurl at the princesses.

“Princess Celestia,” she began in a pompous manner. Celestia looked Cadence, and then tried to look as attentive as possible to the subject.

“Yes, my little pony?” she said warmly.

“I-” the pony began, but was cut off by a commotion in the line.

“s’xuse me, comin’ through!”

“What are you-”

“AAA!”

“This is simply-”

“Where are your manners?”

Celestia jerked her head away from the subject in front of her and looked at the line. Ponies were flying out left and right, slamming against the walls, landing on the ground, complaining vigorously as they did so. Celestia raised an eyebrow and hardened her face as a white stallion in shining golden armor raced to the front of the throne room.

He did a quick kneel, jerking out of it before Celestia could say a word. He stood, rigidly, fear pulsing out of his eyes.

“Captain Armor wished me to tell you, your highness,” he said in a firm monotone. “Twilight Sparkle has been abducted.”

There was a murderous silence. Celestia’s mind raced.

This can’t be happening, she thought, her eyes wildly darting around the crowded court. No! We must act fast… But the court… cancel…

“Open court is officially canceled for today!” she shouted, “Please leave.”

There was some general mumbles of protest, but the crowd slowly drained out the main entrance. Celestia turned back to the guard, ignoring the surprised Cadence.

“When did this occur?” she asked cooly. Inside, panic welled up like a filling volcano. Don’t let it get to your head. Don’t let it get to your head. Don’t let… she thought, over and over again.

“Last night, your highness,” the guard said promptly.

“They could be anywhere,” she muttered. “Quick. We haven’t much time, I need an item that belonged to Twilight. Anything.”

“Her possessions have mostly been transferred to Ponyville,” the guard mused, “but there may be something in the library.”

“The park!” Cadence cried. Celestia and the guard turned to stare at her, wondering if she’d snapped. “When she was a filly, we buried a time capsule in the park,” Cadence explained quickly. “It’s probably still there. We can dig it up!”

Celestia turned to the guard. “I want a team of twenty guards with shovels ready at the park in five minutes. Cadence will guide them,” she added, fire blazing in her eyes.

“Yes, your highness!” the guard saluted and charged out of the room, slamming the doors behind him. Celestia turned to Cadence, her eyes ablaze with anger.

“We had better get going,” she said, her horn shining bright. The light enveloped the two, until, and, with a flash of blue magic, the throne room was empty. As Celestia cast the teleportation spell, one thought ran through her mind. They will pay.

The Fellowship operated in darkness. It was their home. Celestia’s radiance was their bane, when they worked, that is. Restless Vigil quite enjoyed a bit of legal activity in the sunshine. Right now, however, he sat in his study with the blinds tightly drawn.

Tightly he sat at his desk in the darkness, hunched over glowing runes on rotting parchment. Occasionally he flipped a page, and then flipped it back. Every sign pulsed with magical energy. This was a true spellbook, the kind that casted spells themselves.

Glowing Night would know more about it than I, Restless thought as he furrowed his brows over the paper. But this just doesn’t seem… right.

There was perfect silence in his room, and that silence was shattered by the clock striking noon. Its gong sounded twelve times before fading into the world. Restless grumbled, snapping the script shut. His hoof glowed and the shades flew open, revealing the blinding brightness of outdoors.

The book jumped. Restless picked it up in two hooves, holding the menacing little jaws shut as he moved towards its usual shackles. It wiggled and resisted, but Restless had done this hundreds of times.

*KNOCK*

Restless jumped in surprise, letting the book leap from his grasp. It scurried around the room on haunches made of its binding, and retreated into a corner. Restless was boiling inside.

“Come in,” he growled. Virgil stepped in.

“Sir, your friend has arrived,” Virgil said, looking at the book with the same sort of glare one might use on a turd. “I can see to the capture of that… thing.”

“Thank you, Virgil,” Restless said, walking towards the door. Virgil caught him with a hoof before he could leave, pulling him close.

“I fixed the guest bedroom,” he said, “your friend is intending to stay a long while.”

“How did you figure that?” Restless asked, surprised himself.

“The luggage, sir, quite a bit of luggage,” Virgil said. “The trunk could fit a pony, sir.”

Restless smiled. So they’d done it, had they? “Very good, Virgil, but I scarcely think it will be needed.”

“As you say, sir,” Virgil said, returning to the room and eyeing the squeaking piece of literature in the corner. “I will see to this.”

“Thank you,” Restless walked out of his carpeted study and on to the hardwood floor that composed much of the house. They did it, he thought with elation, they bloody damn well did it!

“Aurora!” Restless cried, walking into the sitting room. Aurora Burst sat on the couch, next to a large brown trunk. The trunk was vertical, standing about the height of a pony on their hind legs. “I can’t believe you actually managed it!”

“It was a pleasure, sir,” Aurora said, smiling. “Mister Spoon and mister Rich were more than happy to help.”

“Lovely,” Restless tapped on the trunk. “Our prize, eh?”

“Indeed,” Aurora said, grinning. “She put up quite a fight, I daresay.”

“Just as anticipated,” Restless nodded. “You overcame that though?”

“Easy,” Aurora said, unhooking one of the latches.

“Still under, I trust?” Restless said as Aurora snapped the next brass latch open.

“Oh yes,” Aurora said, his eyes glinting in the lamplight with insane pleasure. “Enchantment on the box.”

“I expected no less,” Restless smiled. Aurora may be slightly unhinged, but when you set him on a job, he got it done. He finished tasks threefold. That was why he was in
the Fellowship.

There was an ominous click as the last brass latch snapped unlocked. With a creak, the trunk opened, and a purple body fell out of it. Twilight Sparkle sprawled out on the ground, shrouded in the blissful ignorance of unconsciousness. Restless just about screamed for joy.

Instead, Restless converted his joy to commanding elation. He nodded to Aurora.

“Take her to the Place,” Restless said. “Glowing Night and I can take it from there. You just… detain her.”

“My honor,” Aurora Burst said, his horn glowing. Two balls of orange magic lifted Twilight off the ground and suspended her back in the chest, her body hanging down limply. Another rope of magic slammed the trunk shut and did the latches. There was a thump as Twilight’s body crumpled to the bottom of the container.

“I hear your sister arrives today,” Restless said, conversationally. “You must be excited.”

Aurora nodded. “We have not seen each over for so long,” he said, dreamily, “it will be a pleasure.”

“But there is work to be done!” Restless stated. Aurora jerked out of his nostalgic haze. “Off with you!”

“Aye,” Aurora trotted out the door, the trunk following close behind. “See you at sundown of the First Moon.”

“Three days,” Restless muttered to himself, shutting the door with a hoof. “I must summon Glowing Night; he must know it is time.”

He walked out onto the balcony, looking at the setting sun with a beady glare. “Time to murder the sun with her own prized treasure.”

Crystal Prism waited. And waited. And waited some more.

The guards had been dismissed for the day, the room was clear and the stage was set… but no actor came forth. Crystal sat on the floor, listlessly staring at the glistening portal. Its swirling depths danced in the light, shining into a vortex of magical energy.

Upstairs, Crystal heard the clock strike six. Three hours. Three hours he had waited for the new arrival, and three hours she had not shone her face. Crystal stood up and stretched, taking a break from staring at the portal to staring at the adjacent wall.

“Is she ever coming, or was this some prank?” Crystal Prism pondered as he exaimened the glowing wall. Light refracting from his mane made rainbows dance along the crystal, lighting the room with specs of rainbow. He threw the glassy mane back and stared at the portal again.

“She’s got six hours ‘till it’s too late,” he said, to no one in particular, “she better make it.”

“Me?” a voice cut threw the silence. It was shrewd and commanding as it boomed about the room, malice slicing from it like a blade. There was a certain cunning, devious sound to the voice as well, one that made Crystal Prism shudder.

The portal glowed, lighting the room with a brilliant white light as it shot blue sparks from its borders. Crystal raised a hoof to his eyes to shield the light, squinting into the blazing brightness. There was a thump, and then silence.

“Who’s there?” Crystal asked, nervously. He lit his horn, unknowing of what he may find in the cloud of dust.

“Me,” a voice stated, through the airborne grime.

“What’s your name?” Crystal said, his eyes nervously darting around the room. He progressed into the cloud, turning his head from left to right with a glowing horn.

“Back in kindergarten, are we?” the voice sneered.

“State your name or I shall be forced to take forcful action!” Crystal shouted. The voice was quiet, but then began laughing.

“Go on,” it said, “be ‘forceful’. I’ll just sit over here and watch.”

Crystal growled. His horn glowed brighter and brighter, and slowly the dust cloud began to spin. It spun faster and faster, twirling its way into Crystal’s horn.. When the plume of dust was all collected, a searing beam of light shout out of Crystal Prism’s horn, etching a mark on the nearby wall.

In the corner, Sunset Shimmer clapped sarcastically.

“Light magic,” she said, listlessly. “Haven’t seen that in a long time. Although, it could be a bit more… interesting.”

“Cut the games, will you?” Crystal Prism growled. “You came here to help The Fellowship and your brother, right?”

“I suppose,” she said, thoughtfully. “There isn’t much else to do in this world. Lead the way, shiny.”

“Don’t call me that!” Prism snapped. Light from his mane, danced across the walls as they walked down the crystalline passages. Sunset smiled smugly to herself as Prism plowed ahead in a huff.

“Of course, shiny,” she said naughtily. Crystal Prism stopped.

“Look,” he growled, without turning around. “I have no idea how anyone could dream of working with you, but I’m gonna be in hot water if I tell them you were so obnoxeous that I couldn’t even get you to the trainstation!

“I thought you liked this cause!” he turned around, eyes blazing with anger. “I thought you hated the Sisters every second of your life! I thought you were supposed to be some kind of goddess of cunning malice!

“All you’ve done so far to prove your self worthy of this is act like you’re still in magic kindergarten! Either you act like a proper mare, or you never see your brother, you never get a chance to gain revenge. You go back through that stupid portal right where you came from if you don’t want to gain co-leadership of the Equestrian Empire!” he grimaced, pointing a hoof threateningly at the portal. Sunset, for the first time he’d seen, flinched under his glare.

Good god, Crystal thought to himself, this is more like dealing with preschool students than cunning geniuses.

“Fine,” Sunset said, regaining composure. “I’ll at least see what they have to offer.”

“Good,” Crystal Prism turned around, but stopped. “You,” he pointed to the ground in front of him, “in front of me.”

“Fine,” Sunset said, nonchalauntly trotting in front of the crystal pony.

“Now, trainstation,” Prism muttered, and turned back to the task at hand: foalsitting.

Glowing Night looked out over the site, scrutinizing every detail. Ponies walked back and forth, setting up glowing obelisks, scratching ancient runes into the glowing soil, or spreading powders. In front of him, shining in the light of his horn, a book struggled in its bonds.

A diagram illustrated in the book showed the exact layout of the ‘field’; a layout that must be replicated perfectly for anything to work… properly. Glowing Night glanced down at the writhing piece of literature every so often, comparing its illustration to that of the field’s.

So far, it went along smoothly. Only a few problems with local wildlife interrupted work, but that was to be expected. This was the Everfree Forest, after all.

A magical barrier shimmered around the perimeter of the clearing, blurring the outside world in a haze of milky light. Glowing Night looked down at it, smiling. He threw back his hood and continued to examine the figure, constantly glancing up at the clearing.

A gray streak was barely visible on the eastern horizon, but it grew larger by the second. In the hard light of noon it flew, shooting over the dark, foreboding forest. Closer it drew to the barrier, a black cape billowed out behind it, filled with air.

Two guards, dressed in bright orange and red armor, stepped forward, their spears raised. Their coats were a uniform black; their eyes a threatening purple. Two curving horns rose from their helmets, the glowing bronze glinting in the sunlight. Their hooves held the spears, and their faces were set in grimaces.

They were the Sentinels of the Fellowship.

The gray streak grew closer, but as it did a fiery mark shot up in the air. It was a rune, a glistening, burning rune from ancient times. The Sentinels looked at it, and immidiatly powered up their horns. A hole was stretched in the fabric of the barrier, just enough to allow the streaking pegasus to fly in.

Its wings were spread wide as it glided around the clearing, losing speed from its long, swift journey. A dark gray feather dropped from its wingtip, floating down towards the ground on a slow, drifting path. Glowing Night eyed it a little, but focused on his work.

Flaming Gale, glided towards the wooden scaffolding, atop which Glowing Night worked. His wings tilted forward as he lost speed, alighting on the platform with practiced agility.

“Glowing Night,” he said, looking out over the field. A hair from his mane poked out from under the hood, blazing in the afternoon sun. “I bring news from Restless Vigil.”

“Go on,” Glowing Night prompted, not taking his eyes off his work. Flaming Gale continued.

“She is ready. The ceremony must begin tomorrow morning,” Gale said, flatly. Glowing Night raised an eyebrow.

“Very well,” he said, gazing over the clearing. “We will be ready.”

Across the field, emerging from a rough, beaten, forest path, two ponies lumbered into the clearing. They held on their backs a pedestal; a grand, carved, pedestal. It glowed an eerie purple glow as the web of magic that surrounded Equestria bended and distorted due to its very presence.

Glowing Night looked at it, and then at the figure in the struggling book in front of him.

“The centerpiece,” he breathed. A pedestal from ages, millennia ago. It was said to have come from Vux, the Land Before Time; a magical world from which Equestria formed. Forged in the heart of the Vuxian caverns, the pedestal possessed incredible power to bend and concentrate magical fields.

Years ago, Glowing Night was entrusted with its safety by princess Celestia. It had sat in a glass box, a vault of sorts, in the basement of the Canterlot Royal Archives; until now. Now it would be put to its original purpose; the purpose of centering ancient magic. It would be the antenna of the spell, focusing the energy produced on one thing… or pony.

“Any news on the authorities?” Glowing Night asked the shuffling pegasus. Flaming Gale looked at him.

“None,” he said, “I saw but one outpost on my way here. The guards seem all too occupied keeping Canterlot in one piece.”

“Excellent,” Glowing Night turned to the field. Herbs were placed in pots, artifacts stuck in the glowing, pulsing ground. Already he could feel the magic rushing towards it, transpiring from the forest and feeding the Circle.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Flaming Gale said, nervously. “Restless Vigil made it quite clear this is important.”

“Oh yes,” Glowing Night said, almost offended. “I studied this for years. I am librarian of the Royal Archives Physical Magic section! Great Faust, you think I’m playing with sticks here?”

“No, just checking,” Gale ruffled his feathers. Glowing Night sighed as he looked over the preparations, smiling slightly to himself.

“We’ll be ready for her,” he said at last, staring straight at the fluctuating barrier with a steely glare. “Whether she likes it or not.”

Chapter 6

Daughter of the Night

Chapter Six

Captive
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night was cool, unending and unbroken. A velvet darkness had descended on Equestria, the darkness in which stars shimmered and trees wept by water. It was quiet; oh so quiet.

When darkness descended, it was time for bed, time for the evening. The hubub of the towns slowed to a grinding halt, leaving the streets bare and silent. Some choose this moment to bask in the moonlight, to overlook the quiet, shimmering cities. Once and awhile, a light speeds through the darkness.

That speeding light is the Night Train, a train that, once a night, makes the transit from Canterlot to Ponyville, and the next night vice versa. Toads on the track leap out of the way of its bright glare, the fog light shining through the night with unnecessary potency.

Inside, late night commuters snored, read, and chatted. It was a soft, relaxed atmosphere. But in a private car on the back… Restless Vigil sat, sipping at a green drink, and staring cooley at his captive.

Ropes secured her to the seat, preventing even the slightest movement of her hooves. Not only did physical bonds constrain her, but a cold metal harness covered her horn, keeping her mental powers in check with a light magical field. On her neck, a silver necklace hung, glinting in the light given off from the chandelier, which was swaying back and forth overhead.

Twilight Sparkle gave Restless a strong, accusing glare as she struggled at her bonds.

“You’ll never get away with this,” she said, coldly. “Princess Celestia will come through.”

“On the contrary, Miss Sparkle,” Restless chuckled. “I have taken every safeguard to prevent your retrival on her behalf.”

“You’re trying to outwit the ruler of Equestria,” Twilight reminded him smoothly, “you know you’re going to lose.”

“Actually, I didn’t,” Restless Vigil smiled. He sipped at his drink, the cool green liquid cascading down his throat. “Care for a drink?”

“How do you expect me to hold it?” Twilight said, flaring her eyes. “Besides, why would I take it from you?”

“Sorry. Force of instinct, I suppose. Hosting dinner parties does get ones nerves set up for the atmosphere, I’m afraid,” Restless grinned, watching Twilight’s growing anger. “Oh, and if you’re going to explode or anything, I’d rather you didn’t do it on my carpet.”

“The Royal Guard has detectives smarter than you!” Twilight cried. “They’ll bring you down.”

“Oh my, you really are impressive. I merely didn’t leave them anything to be smart with. You simply must get it in your head that you aren’t going to be saved, Miss Sparkle,” he said, laughing.

“Tracking spell. Celestia could use a tracking spell; I bet you don’t have anything for that!” she said triumphantly.

“Look at that necklace you have on,” Restless said, pointing. Twilight looked down, surprised. “That was made by one of the finest silversmiths in Equestria. It holds an anti-tracking enchantment, yet at the same makes being farther away from me than I want you to be very uncomfortable.”

Twilight flattened her ears. Restless grinned, sipping up the last of his drink in a dainty slurp. Outside, the darkened countryside rolled past.

“I don’t know what you want with me,” Twilight growled. “But I’m not doing it.”

“It’s really rather simple,” Restless smiled. He hadn’t had this much fun in a while, a long while. “You’re going to kill Celestia.”

He smiled wider, looking at the expression of horror and disbelief on her face. Her eyes opened wider than saucers, her jaw dropped slack and her ears stood on end. It was, Restless thought, the finest horrified pony he’d seen in a long time.

“I- I-” the librarian stuttered. Her mouth clamped shut as she stared Restless straight in the eye, attempting to make him feel as small as possible. “You can’t make me do that!”

“You wait and see,” he said, mischievously. “But when the time comes, you’ll find yourself holding the bloody knife, with some very vivid memories.”

“How could you possibly-”

“Twilight Sparkle,” Restless clicked his tongue mockingly. “My little cold blooded killer. I believe we have had talk enough.”

“What-” she started, but the question was cut off.

A gag was thrown over Twilight’s mouth and a bag descended over her face, leaving her sightless, voiceless, and very annoyed. She flattened her ears underneath the bag. Celestia would come through, wouldn’t she? She always had. This was no time to start thinking that she wouldn’t… No time…

The night rushed on outside the window, and Restless looked at it in a bemused sort of curiosity. He held an empty glass in one hoof, and a small trinket box in the other as he watched the darkened countryside fly by outside. He looked down at the box, and then at the gagged and blinded figure of Twilight… and slid open the lid.

A golden glow shimmered eerily onto Restless’s face as he looked inside,grinning to himself. The box’s red velvet spilled over the edges slightly, making a padding around the dark oaken shell.

“Time will come,” he whispered to the box, hoarsely. Twilight cringed as she heard it; his voice was scratchy and painful to listen to; an insane kind of glee concealed in its depths. Hooves screeching on chalkboards were in it too; it didn’t, as Twilight reminisced, sound at all like Restless’s usual voice.

“Time will come!” Restless said again in the scratchy voice. “Celestia will… fall.”

“What do you mean?” Twilight tried to say, but all that came out was a gurgle. Restless ignored it, his eyes and soul fixed on the golden glow of the box. The moon shone its milky white light through the window, causing the golden glare to grow stronger in Restless’s hooves.

“We will take our rightful place once more!” Restless screeched. With that, Twilight heard the box slammed shut and gently stowed in a traveling bag. Restless got to his hooves and trotted out of the room, leaving Twilight to recount the events.

Her mind whirled in a turmoil of disorganized thought, until she narrowed it down into a list, just like the ones she so often made. It went like this.

Crazy pony convinced he can make me kill Celestia
Crazy pony wants to take crown
Crazy pony seems to have something for an item in a box
Crazy pony needs to get speech lessons

That last bit was unnecessary, but Twilight added anyway because it just seemed like a good idea. Of course, the other three items kept her on the edge of her mental tipping point, much more than a pony in need of therapy.

A creak filled the room as Twilight heard the door being pushed open, and a thump as it closed again. Hoofsteps entered, as did the sound of voices; Twilight shivered, wondering what they were going to do this time. But the voices paid her no notice, and simply talked.

“...is out?” the voice Twilight recognized to be that of her captor. It was in a normal pitch, yet the very sound of it sent shivers down her spine.

“Indeed,” a second voice said deeply. Inspite of the depth it possesed, Twilight spotted a certain… insane quality to it; a quality that made the librarian very uneasy. “I sent Fiery Gale myself.”

“Very good,” the first voice said. Twilight heard a soft creaking as the ponies sat down, and a slight thump as an object was set on a table. “What do you know about this?”

“Of course,” the insane voice said, filled with awe and wonder. “The Alicorn Amulet, the artifact responsible for corrupting King Sombre. Oh, and the tip of his horn. Went through a lot of trouble to get that, mind you.”

“Indeed,” the first voice said, slightly ruffled. There was a clink as metal plates were presented on the table. “What about this?”

“Nightmare Moon’s armor,” the second voice said, calmly. “I went through a lot of trouble for that, too. Honestly, why are you doing this? I GOT all these artifacts.”

The first voice ignored him and plunged onward. Another thud reached Twilight’s ears as yet another artifact was placed on the table. “What about this?”

“The Discordant Gauntlet?” the second voice said, listlessly. “I nipped that right off the ice, if you don’t mind.”

Twilight gasped. The Discordant Gauntlet; she knew she read about it somewhere. It was a part of Discord… supposedly fueling his magic. But didn’t some say it merely gave him the malice to destroy ponies for fun?

Nipped it off the ice. Didn’t he get reformed on the ice? Wait, what? That can’t be right. Maybe it fell off while he was ice skating? Maybe that’s why he stopped being… evil. Twilight gasped again.

“What does that thing look like!?” she tried to shout, but all that the ponies heard was a loud gurgling noise.

“Looks like our guest wants a better view,” the first pony said, and the gag and bag were removed in a woosh of air. Twilight squinted at the bright lamplight, her eyes adjusting to the sudden illumination. “Having fun?”

“No,” she stated, flatly. “But I am interested in that artifact of yours.”

“Oh, well, too bad!” the Restless said, grinning at the insane one. The pony that belonged to the insane voice beared a bright orange coat, and a fiery red and orange mane. His tale was a burst of colors, colors from all across the spectrum. His eyes were red and burning, with a purposeful glee smoldering inside of them.

“Hello, Miss Sparkle,” he said. Twilight recognized him as the one who had broken into her library on that fateful evening, and he seemed just as loopy as he had then.

“I would like to see the Gauntlet,” she stated, giving the Aurora an icy cold glare. Restless slid back the lid on the oaken box and slipped it into a saddlebag. He looked at Twilight smugly, lording a piece of knowledge she didn’t know over top of her.

“I think you’ll see it soon enough,” he said, smugly. “Now, I think you had better catch up on some much needed rest. The train arrives at dawn, and I should hate for you to miss the Ceremony.”

“Although I don’t think you’ll be able to,” Aurora laughed. Restless gave him a leveling glare, stopping his laughter in a swift second. He swallowed his glee, and gained a placid composure, inside which he squirmed.

“I don’t think rest is the problem here,” Twilight said coldly. “Besides, I’ve been out for what, ten hours?”

“Nine hours ten and a half minutes!” Restless recited. “Maintained with enchantments!”

“Aren’t you just so clever?” Twilight said sarcasticly, rolling her eyes. “Anywho, I don’t think rest is the problem.”

“Then sit in the dark for a few hours,” Restless stated, waltzing from the room. “It doesn’t matter to us, as long as you’re still here. Which I don’t think is the problem, Miss Sparkle.”

The door slammed shut as the chandeliers’ candles extinguished in a puff of smoke; darkness descended on the room. Twilight never liked the dark; always too… well… dark, for her taste. She was never afraid of the dark; it just made her shiver whenever its inky velvet descended.

In the blackness, a tear slowly rolled down Twilight’s cheek. She looked out the window at the countryside, watching it roll by with a downturned look. The moon shone down on it with a milky white glow, casting gentle shadows upon the darkened grass.

“Luna,” Twilight sobbed, looking up at the moon with tearful eyes. “Please, please just tell me you’re coming.”

The night went on, and no sign came. Twilight watched the twinkling stars stay still, as a backdrop for the rolling hills. She sniffled, and buried her face deep into her hooves.

“My friends will come through for me,” she said softly, over and over again to herself. Gently, she rocked back and forth in her bonds, finding what little comfort she could in the constant sound of the train’s wheels clicking over the track.

“I know it,” she muttered, looking at the ceiling once more with desperate eyes. “They will come.”

The night rolled on, sleepless and unending. Terror was all she knew. Terror that would grow to panic come morning.

Canterlot Gardens was a quiet, sophisticated patch of greenery. Gardeners meticulously cut at every leaf and twig, shaping them into a uniform shape and size. Powerful enchantments protected the paths from getting muddy, as, heaven forbid, somepony might get dirty! Aristocrats strolled throughout its perfect foliage, discussing 'proper' business and eyeing the local wildlife from a safe distance; often times throwing a distasteful glance at the more vile of the creatures. A 'proper' Canterlot pony's definition of vile, mind you, generally involves mud.

Mud mud mud. One of the great mysteries of life, in Canterlot's opinion, is why foals have this primal urge to roll in the stuff. Many a sharp glare and a disdainful look at anypony with merely a speck of the dirt upon them have been thrown. Canterlot Gardens was engineered and evolved to do all that it can to prevent such an inconvinience.

The afternoon sun shone down over the perfect gardens, casting long shadows under the trees. Its orange light wound its way through the foliage, peeping out at any available point.

Cadence looked over the grassy fields, eyeing the derilect, rusting, playground equipment with fondness. Nature had reclaimed the once pristine swings, entwining the chains in thick, leafy vines. Rust covered the slide; as did the more industrious of ivies. It was a truly pitiful sight; but all Cadence could see was ten years back, when she and Twilight would happily play on the glistening equipment. The foal's happy laughter still rang in her ears, filling her with joy, but also remorse that such a sight she would never see again.

"Princess," a reverent, solid voice began, "we await your command."

"Oh," Cadence turned around, "right." The guard captain stood firmly before her, his golden armor shining in the afternoon sunlight. He looked at her with steady, solid blue eyes. Quickly he raised his hoof in a salute as Cadence looked at him; as did the nineteen guards behind him. Each of them held shovels in hooves or in magic, face set in stoic determination.

"Our orders are to follow your directions," the captain explained patiently.

"Right," Cadence looked back at the playground. "Hold on."

So many places it could have been buried! Where did they dig that hole?

"That's the problem with time capsules," she grumbled, "you can't find them after time's gone by."

"Dig behind, in front of, and around every bush you can find in the vicinity," she said firmly. "It was near a bush, but I don't know which one."

"Yes, your highness!" the chorus of guards chanted simultaneously, rushing to the nearest bush and pushing their shovels into the dry, crumbling soil. Cadence paced the ground, nervously surveying the work.

Piles of dirt grew with each clump of soil hurled atop of them, forming mountains of earth around the bushes. Cadence’s horn glowed as she stepped into the center of the clearing, closing her eyes as the dull pink light shone across the grass. In her head, an image formed.

It was a loose, spindly image, lacking detail or complexity. It coalesced, finding shaky grounds on what it could in her mind, showing her the world. But this was not the normal ground she saw with her eyes; this was underground.

Rocks dotted the underground landscape from here to there, cluttering her mind with glowing dots. Different kinds of rocks gave off different light, displaying a comprehensive map of rocks underneath the park. But Cadence did not want rocks; she wanted a small pouch, inside of which Twilight’s journal hid.

A long while back, while Cadence foalsat Twilight, the young unicorn kept a journal. It was simple and crudely written in her foalhood scrawl, but she loved to jot down the events of the day and everything she’d learned. As the year went forward, her hoofwriting progressed, becoming ledgible, but lumpy.

When Twilight filled that journal up, she didn’t know what to do with it. That was when the idea of a time capsule came to light, and her beloved book of scrawl found its way underground, waiting patiently for somepony to discover it.

Now Cadence looked about for the yellow glow that indicated cloth. Sweat beaded on her eyebrows as she stood, motionless with closed eyes, looking around the park in her mind. The energy that surrounded her horned pulsed constantly.

The guards hurled dirt upon piles in a feverish excavation, until a plume of dust halted their work.

“What-” one of the guards choked, looking at the ground. A small bag was in the hole, square as a book, smoking. The guard gave it a quizzical glance and prodded it with a shovel.

*FFZT.*

A small arc of purple energy leapt onto the shovel and disappeared in a flash. The bag stopped smoking, and the sun shined its orange evening light upon the hole, showing perfectly onto the bag.

“PRINCESS!” the guard shouted, leaping out of the hole. Cadece awakened from her trance-like state with a jerk, looking at the guard conceridly. “I think I found it!” he shouted, plunging back into his hole. Cadence broke into a gallop.

Dirt was slipped and flew under her hooves as she rushed towards the hole. Her steely gaze was fixed straight ahead, and grimace of determination on her face. Inside, she wanted to jump for joy, but emotions do not interfere with duty. Not now.

“Here!” the guard called, tossing the princess a dusty cloth bag. Cadence’s eyes widened as she brushed the grime off it and undid the drawstring. Gently, she slipped the precious book out of the bag and onto her hooves.

The book was just as she remembered it, although older. The golden binding still laced about its side, the same little silver latch still held it shut, and the starry ornaments on the front still looked just as curious. Cadence let a gush of air as she turned it over, and dusted off the metal coverplate. Etched in the sparkling surface were the words:

Twilight Sparkle’s Personal Diary

“Halt the search!” Cadence shouted in joy. “It has been found.”

“We must report to Princess Celestia at once!” the guard captain stated flately. Cadence looked down at the diary and enveloped it in her magic.

“Yes,” she said, grimly. “I will take it. Our darkest hours have yet to come!”

“Luna!” Celestia called, wandering the castle. Red of the waining twilight spilled through the windows, casting its eerie glare upon the shiny stone walls. Celestia shivered and pushed upon Luna’s door, sending it creaking inwards.

“What, my sister?” Luna asked, staring intently at the eastern horizon. Her horn began to glow softly as she coaxed the moon into view. Gentle mists of magic floated from the balcony’s Vuxian railings, twiriling around her horn in a vortex of magical energy. Far off, a purple glow surrounded the moon.

“You will perform a search in the night, I trust?” Celestia asked, gravely.

“Of course. You will come,” Luna responded, solemnly hauling the moon over the horizon. Celestia nodded.

“Yes.”

“It is time to set the sun,” Luna said, turning a soft cheek in the pale moonlight. Her deep blue eyes radiated youth, yet her expression showed insight and wisdom. But on top of that, lay malice. She gritted her teeth. “Whoever stole did this to me. They will pay.”

“What?” Celestia gasped, looking around. “What- what do you mean?”

“Whoever made me lose your respect! Whoever dared to deface me from my subjects?” Luna thundered. Her eyes grew wide with rage as she stomped an angry hoof on the floor, sending cracks along the stone. “You did it. Didn’t you?”

“Luna I-”

“You did. You betrayed me!” Luna rose into the air, her wings turning red in the sun’s waining light. Her horn spun with dark energy, and her ethereal mane turned stained red with anger.

“NO!” Celestia shouted, tears streaming from her eyes. She looked upward, praying to anypony. Anything anything that would listen. “Not again!”

Luna’s eyes flashed with ire and hatred, and when Celestia looked it was just as she had feared: her sister bore the pupils of a dragon. Her mane grew thicker and darker, her mouth grew horrid, threatning fangs, and her horn crackled with energy.

“Dare you not to do that again!” Luna shouted, baring down on her sister with a steely glare infused with malice. “Do not cross paths with NIGHTMARE MOON!”

Celestia cried to the heavens, a bolt of energy struck the princess of the sun right in the chest, and the world fell apart around her. Only the wicked cackling of Nightmare Moon remained, ringing in her ears like the devil incarnate. Nightmare Moon had, at long last, gotten her revenge.

Celestia awoke with a start, and lay, breathing heavily, on the floor. Why she had fallen asleep, she didn’t know, and why she was in front of her throne… some questions need not be answered. Slowly, she climbed to her hooves and wiped the sweat from her brow.

It was a red twilight, just as her dream had had, but no Nightmare Moon hore down upon her. Instead, the cheerful stained glass of the throneroom cast beautiful colors upon the carpet, making Celestia smile. Then another question came to mind: how come nopony had noticed her torturous sleep?

“Guard?” she called, weakly. She strained her ears for an answer, but all she heard was a faint echo of her own voice. The throne room doors were shut and bolted, and the castle was deathly silent.

Celestia walked shakily to the back door of the courtroom, gently unlocking it with a soft glow of magic. The door creaked open, revealing a dank, empty hallway. “Anypony?” she shouted.

This time, she got hoofsteps echoing down the hallway in answer. Celestia relaxed, and began to trot towards the sound. She sighed, and began to turn the dream over in her mind.

Luna must be angry. Then, in that case, turning once again into the monster that was Nightmare Moon would be quite possible, wouldn’t it? But would she, like the Luna in her dream, turn towards Celestia for vengeance?

They must find Luna, and fast. Long before she turns the corner to insanity. But the tracking spell could only be cast once in a few day period, as it took a tremendous amount of power to perform. Twilight was in danger… and yet so was the entirety of Equestria, with the possibility of Nightmare Moon.

Celestia stopped and stared. Which was more important? The student she loved like her own daughter, or her sister? Maybe Cadence could help.

Celestia turned her attention to the task at hoof and began trotting, once more, towards the noise. It seemed to come from the side corridor, and was rapidly approaching.

“Who’s there?” Celestia asked, warily. The thundering hoofsteps grew to a constant gallop, and then screeched to a halt.

“Quickly!” Cadence shouted, shoving a dusty book into Celestia’s hooves. “We haven’t much time.”

Celestia stared at the beloved manuscript. The metal plate still shone as bright as before, and oh, what lovely memories it contained! But Cadence’s panicked voice hammered the painful truth of the matter home to Celestia: Twilight was in danger, and she must be helped.

“Yes,” Celestia said, firmly turning towards the throne room. “We have even less than you, or I, think.”

“What could her captors want with her?” Cadence pleaded, “She’s such a nice young mare.”

“Power. Power and greed. That is all they want,” Celestia stated gravely, her horn beginning to shine yellow. Quickly, before Cadence could say a word, the princess vanished in a pop of magic.

Darkness enveloped Equestria. Not evil darkness… merely the darkness that descends when the iridescent glow of the moon shines. But it felt empty; out of place, as though a hole had been cut and removed in the spirit of the night. Celestia looked out over it, sighing as she stared at her hooves.

In one hoof, a golden bound journal lay, glinting in the hollow moonlight. In the other, a crown, encrusted with one milky white diamond, sat. The diamond shined the moonlight upon the floor, making it dance in the slight shaking of Celestia’s hoof.

Beside her, a small pedestal carved of crystal sat. Fine engraving of mystic runes covered it; the language of Celestia’s homeland. It was made of the finest Tenthrop Crystal, mined at the height of the empire’s golden age.

“Who?” Celestia muttered, looking back and forth between the two. “Which shall I find?”

The fate of Equestria may lie upon her finding Luna, yet her student was in danger. Without Twilight, Equestria would be defenseless, as one of the Elements of Harmony was missing. Perhaps, if Twilight was found, and Nightmare Moon really did come back, the Elements could stop her.

That must be it. Celestia looked at the book, but back at Luna’s crown as well. Eventually she set down the artifacts, and stood up. The milky Moonstone sat, shining a radiant white light upon Celestia’s stricken face. The stars watched, twinkling in anticipation as the princess picked up the journal in both hooves and stared at it.

“Do me well,” she said, setting it upon the small crystal pedestal. The pedestal glowed faintly, striking a bright blue light upon the floor. The book flew open, the pages turning rapidly in one direction. Celestia watched the flapping pages sullenly. The stars seemed to shine brighter as the pedestal’s light grew, casting a large and larger crystal glow upon the carpet.

Suddenly, the book stopped turning and waited, stuck open on a single page. Celestia couldn’t resist a glimpse before beginning the spell. There, in crude scribbles, a window to the past opened.

June Twentieth, Year 985,

Mom and dad say I’m going away for school in a few months. I sure hope it involves a lot of reading! Mom says I’m far more eager than she was, and I don’t get it. Who couldn’t be excited about books? Dad says there’s gonna be a whole library for me to read out of!

My very own library! But mom said I have to spend some time with other ponies, besides my brother, of course. I don’t get it. Books are all the friends I need! They told me friendship has some sort of… mystical power or something, but that’s not written in any books I’ve read.

I wanna go to school and learn enough that I can do research on this… friendship thing, and see if there really is any of this ‘mystical power’ in it. All of that aside, mom said I did SO WELL in my evaluation, that I’m gonna go to a special school for smart ponies! Maybe somepony there will think like I do.

But I don’t really care about that. BOOKS! BOOKS! BOOKS! A library all my own! That’s amaz…….

The book slammed shut, leaving Celestia’s gentle smile faced with the hard cover. She knew what the pedestal was trying to tell her: it was time to find Twilight. She breathed out heavily, and her horn began to glow.

The night was dragging on, and the moon was almost overhead. The flashes of magical energy sliced through the inky darkness like a hot knife through butter, throwing pure white light bolting through the air. In the middle of this, Celestia stood, staring coldly at the crystal pedestal.

Her horn glowed brightly, the magical energy pulsing up and down as she crafted a spell. Celestia poured all she could into it, making the glow brighter and brighter, beating back the darkness of night. Visible vines of pure yellow energy twisted through the air, winding into the crystal pedestal. The journal began to float, as two vines of energy looked through its very essence, its history, to find the identity of its most beloved holder.

Celestia continued to glare, unblinking, at the pedestal. Her mind was a whirl of thoughts, doubts, and hopes. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she concentrated on the spell, trying to forget all but her work.

Suddenly, a pillar of energy shot out of the journal, landing right on the pedestal and sending crackling energy through it. The pedestal glowed a bright amber, pulsing with the magical energy. The air crackled as a little hole opened up in the crystal, grinding and pulling with the other glowing crystals as it pulled away.

The vines drew back, retreating to Celestia’s horn like coiling snakes. Celestia stood back, watching anticipatedly as a bright light flashed from the crystalline artifact sliced through the darkness. Celestia’s eyes were used to that of fire, so the blinding flash did not phase her a bit, although what came next she could never get over.

The great flash simmered out, conforming to a small beam of multicolored light shining
out of the pedestal. This light seemed… unnatural to Celestia. It was, in fact, completely unnatural. A beam of pure color, bending and twisting the most fundemental laws of the universe without so much as an afterthought. Projecting onto a surface that wasn’t there, curling its rainbow’s of color around pure vacancy and forming any shape it wished.

Yes, thought Celestia, watching the light part in mid air and bend itself into a sphere. This is no light like the sun shows.

From the beam, a blurry sphere took shape in the center of the room. Its body was a mass of distorted colors, some vaguely shaping familiar contenents, and a few uncertain oceans. Suddenly, the colors began to right themselves. Equestria smoothed into a detailed map, as did Griffonia, and all the other continents and countries.

The map didn’t stay spherical for long, however. The view quickly began to focus on one point near Everfree, and flattened its plane out as it zoomed in closer. There, a large red X moved unevenly over the trees, showing the location of Twilight.

Celestia furrowed her brows. Of course it was Everfree. Of course.

The map shifted forwards, showing an empty clearing. Celestia looked at it, puzzled.

“Why do you show me this?” she said aloud. In response the map focused even closer on one edge of the clearing. Celestia gasped.

“What?” she focused her glare even harder at the map. A unicorn stallion was stepping forwards… but that wasn’t the weird part. There was only half a unicorn stallion stepping forward.

“Do you show me lies?” Celestia asked the pedestal sternly. If pedestals could shake their heads, this one would have. Celestia stared at it, baring her steely gaze down upon the crystalline artifact.

“Do you?” she asked, and then a pang of relization hit her. She was talking to a crystal. Sure, a magical crystal, but a crystal none the less.

“This must be a mistake,” she said, turning to the map again. The half a unicorn still stood, paused in midair. “The only way that could happen would be with a cloaking field. Everypony knows a cloaking field can’t be maintained that far. It would require obscene amounts of power… unless.”

Celestia’s complexion suddenly delve for the paler side of white. She stared at the image, transfixed with horror. She didn’t move when Cadence opened the door.

“Celestia?” Cadence asked cautiously, stepping towards her aunt. Celestia didn’t move, but looked on in dread. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” Celestia replied, flatly. “I must speak with Glowing Night at once. This may be a matter of the survival of Equestria.”

With that, the sun princess pushed Cadence out of the way and dashed towards the exit, rounding the corner with expert grace. She plunged down the hallways, half gliding on her outstretched wings.

“Glowing Night knows about these things,” she muttered, “perhaps he can explain how they got a spell of that… that magnitude. He must be able to. Fast.”

The night rolled on, turning near dawn as Celestia soared out of the castle. She watched the stars wink out as the gray glow of the dawning sun overtook them. “Or we,” she added, taking a dive towards the Royal Archives. “Will vanish in the sunshine.”

Prologue

It was a dark night in Canterlot. Rain pelted down at the windows of the houses. The soft glow of candles danced on the raindrops, splaying out on the street. Boxed magic candles lit the streets, their soft light permeated by the falling rain.

Thunder rolled in the distance and the flash of lightning filled the air. Gutters gushed like streams as the storm unfurled its water. And in the thick of it all, under a gently bobbing umbrella, Twilight Velvet and Shining Crescent walked. Their faces were that of joy and anticipation, and slight hints of fear clouded the mix.

Twilight Velvet’s coat was pure white, tinged yellow in the candlelight. Her mane was white, striped with purple streaks. And her smile was radiating. Next to her, Shining Crescent walked, happily ignoring the rainwater on his deep blue hooves.

“What do you think we should name them?” Twilight Velvet asked her husband excitedly. “I was thinking we could use our first names and then make the second part up after seeing them!”

“Twilight,” Crescent chuckled, “we don’t need to think about it just yet. Let’s focus on getting it done, first, alright?”

“Right, yes,” Twilight tried to contain her glee, restraining its outage to a small trickle. “But I’m just glad we can finally be parents!”

“Yes,” Crescent smiled, “funny how I’ve always wanted to be a father with this kind of condition. I guess that’s ponies for you: always wanting something they can’t have.”

“But we can have it!” Twilight bounced up in the air, smiling widely.

“Honey,” Crescent stopped walking, turning to his wife. “I’m not completely sure these ‘zebra’ medicines work. I mean, I’d probably trust it more if it was actually proven by modern science…”

“Oh Crescent,” Twilight Velvet chuckled a little. “Just because they aren’t ponies doesn’t mean that they’re shady. There’s a reason they passed the Equality Act, isn’t there?”

“No no.” Shining shook his head as they started walking again. “It’s just I’d rather it was properly studied.”

“Me too.” Twilight shook her head. “You don’t just get a degree in chemistry in Canterlot University for nothing. But you want to be a father as much as I want to be a mother, it can’t do any harm to at least try.”

“I suppose it can’t.” Shining thought a second. “And you’re right about wanting to be a father. I just hope we have a little boy.”

“Well,” Velvet smiled, “she says that she’s mixing up enough for three. We’ll see what they are. And I’ll love them whatever gender.” She threw a quick smooch to Crescent.

“Me too,” Shining smiled. “They’ll be great.”

“Ah, here we are.” Shining stopped in front of a small house.

Its twisted little chimney puffed smoke deep into the rainstorm, the curling spire stretching out of sight. The crooked door sat, shaking slightly after every boom of thunder. Two windows adorned the outside, glowing with light. And a silhouette of an equine figure walked back and forth inside.

“I hope she’s nice,” Twilight said, slightly concerned. “I’ve only talked with her through letters. Zebras are nice, aren’t they?”

“I don’t know,” Shining gulped, “now that you mention it…”

“Nevermind that.” Twilight began to mount the front steps. “I want children.”

“Well,” Crescent hesitated, “I do too.”

The couple mounted the steps and stood at the front door… And knocked.

“That is the couple, I presume? Come right in, there’s plenty of room,” a rhythmic voice called from inside. Twilight and Shining exchanged a look before pushing open the door.

Inside, neolithic torches were hung in braces against the walls, lighting the the room with a dancing orange glow. Several masks were hung on the far wall, smiling, laughing, and crying at the couple. In the center of the room, surrounded by herbal ingredients of all kinds, was a zebra intently stirring a thick brew.

“Hello,” Twilight Velvet ventured, holding onto her husbands hoof.

“Do not be afraid my pony friend, I do not wish to bring your end,” the zebra stated, not turning from her work. She sprinkled in some pink powder and stood back as a plume of magical smoke erupted from the mixture.

“Well, that’s good,” Twilight Velvet said, her face still worried. Crescent stood silently, looking around the house.

Looking around, Velvet spied an ornamented sign, twisted wood letters were carved into it along with several trees. Between the ornamentation, below the owl, were the letters that spelled out a name.

“Zecora?” Crescent asked, unsure of his deciphering of the sign.

“My name is that; please take off your hat,” Zecora turned, smiling mischievously.

“Nice to meet you, miss Zecora,” Twilight Velvet stepped forward, smiling as she sidled up to the brew. The young zebra turned back to her work.

“Ready it will be, just you wait and see,” she said in a deep and rhythmic voice. The swirls of the brew reflected in the torchlight, making the yellow substance almost glow. Velvet looked at it silently, thinking about her upcoming child.

“Thanks very much, miss,” Crescent stepped up beside his wife, placing a quick smooch on her lips. “This means an awful lot to us.”

“Thank you my clientele, but whether this works, only time will tell,” Zecora walked back towards Crescent, a little knife in her mouth. Crescent recoiled, surprised by the weapon.

“What exactly are you doing with that?” he asked, quickly stepping in front of Twilight.

“A touch of father to this brew, will make this child part of you,” Zecora explained, setting the knife down. “Do not be afraid, I do not wish to take more than I need.”

Crescent looked at his wife, who nodded silently. “Alright-” he stepped forward “-how much do you need?”

“Little,” Zecora said simply, arranging a bottle under Crescent’s hoof. She made a delicate slit in his foreleg with her knife, drawing only a few drops of blood. Crescent cringed, but it was over before he could become too worried.

“That’s it?” he asked, rubbing his wound with his hoof.

“That is it,” Zecora stated, dropping the red liquid into the brew. It gurgled a little, accepting the new liquid in time. When the steam stopped, Zecora stirred it a little more, reciting confusing incantations under her breath.

“How much do I need to drink, exactly?” Velvet asked as Zecora prepared three bottles.

“Merely one bottle,” Zecora hummed a little. “Excuse my lack of rhyme, I am learning them at this time.”

“Oh that’s fine.” Velvet chuckled a little as Zecora prepared to add the last ingredient. She tipped the bottle in, creating a plume of magical smoke. A fizzing sound erupted out of the pot as the liquid concentrated.

When the smoke cleared, the pot only had a small amount of liquid in it, which Zecora promptly divided between the three bottles. It gurgled, little yellow bubbles floating out.

“It is ready to inbreathe, this child you will soon conceive,” Zecora said, presenting a bottle in front of Twilight. She anxiously looked at her husband, who was skeptically studying one of the bottles.

“You know, does this mixture keep?” Twilight asked Zecora, hovering the bottle in front of her with her magic.

“Yes,” Zecora agreed, “My seals will ensure its saftey. It will keep for years, ruin will not be hasty.”

“Alright…” Twilight looked at her husband, thinking about strange mixtures and little foals. Suddenly the door to the hut was thrown open. Twilight whirled around as a blast of magic sailed past her ear, smashing into a shelf of herbs.

“What the hell?!” Shining Crescent exclaimed, whirling around with a glowing horn. The sinister cloaked unicorn held his stance in the doorway, his horn glowing brightly, particles of magic crackling on to the floor.

Another bolt of magic flew from the unicorn’s horn, slamming into a blue sheen that had formed between the unicorn and Shining.

“Get back!” Shining shouted, bracing himself against the stewpot as he poured energy into his barrier.

The unicorn smiled sinisterly underneath his cape. He whirled a bolt of magic into the barrier, holding it against it like a spear. Shining winced, pushing back.

“What do you want!?” Crescent screamed, narrowing his barrier. The barrier contracted until it was a single bolt of energy, pushing against the other unicorn’s.

“We want a free night!” he said seriously, pushing harder against Shining’s barrier. “We want you to give up!”

The cloaked unicorn’s stream of energy was winning, tracking up to Shining’s horn. He pushed, sweat beaded off his blue eyebrows, but it was futile.

Shining Crescent hit the floor with a thud, his horn smoked slightly.

“Crescent!” Twilight screamed, running to her husband’s side. A strike of magical energy caught her right across the flank, hurling her onto the floor in a flash of light. She lay motionless, slumped against the brewing pot.

“What is it you seek?” Zecora said quietly, ducking behind her couldren after a magical bolt slammed into where she used to be. “If you tell me, I may give you a peek.”

“I don’t want peeks,” the stallion said in an almost hoarse voice. Zecora could hear hoofsteps appraoching her hiding place. She readied several bottles in her hooves. “I want miscreants like you to get the hell out of Canterlot, they should never have let you in here with that darn ‘Equality Act’!”

“Do not get hasty,” Zecora said, breathing quicker as the hoofsteps approached, “When these brews mix, you may want to run for safety.”

The unicorn charged to the other side of the goblet, his horn glowing wildly. His tan cape swished about on the floor, trying to keep up with its wearer’s movements. Zecora threw her bottles straight at him.

The unicorn noticed; he must have, for a barrier immediately formed and the bottles smashed into it, their contents spilling all over the floor. The mixtures began to run together, acidic fog spraying from the contact points.

“What-!” Zecora exclaimed. In all her young zebra years, this had never happened.

That was when the magic hit her.

She slumped onto the ground in a puddle of broken glass and burning liquids. The cloaked unicorn smiled to himself, gently levitating one of the three vials off of the tray and corking it. He then set it in his saddlebag and walked towards the door.

He looked back at what he’d left behind, grinning a little. The house was totaled, three unconscious equines dotting its floor. That was perfect, he thought. The nights will be free again!

With a flourish of his cape, he charged out of the house into the blackness of the night, his payload safely in tow.

Silence befell the house. For several minutes, the only sound was that of a cricket in the corner, monotonously chirping the same three notes. A crack of thunder broke through the house once and awhile, and the rain continually pummeled the roof.

A mouse ventured out of its hole, crawling over the limp body of Zecora and inspecting every area. It sat on her head, looking at the moat of potions and broken glass that lay between him and the floor. He nibbled on a large earring before deciding that maybe the other way around the pot was just as good.

He turned around, venturing down a leg and landing softly on the floor. Quickly, he skittered on his soft paws towards a promising breadcrumb that lay right next to a blue mass.

Picking the breadcrumb up in his forepaws, he looked at the blue mass in front of him. It didn’t look like it was made out of water, or fur, or anything he’d seen. And it couldn’t be a pony, ponies never lay completely still like that, and their foreheads never smoked.

It moved.

The mouse recoiled from surprise, gathering the breadcrumb in his mouth. He scurried back to his hole, deciding that watching from a safe distance would be best. The mouse sat, nibbling on a breadcrumb as Shining Crescent regained consciousness, slowly groaning to life.

“What the-” he rubbed his horn, then noted the white coat in front of him. “Twilight!” he exclaimed, opening his eyes wide with shock. Twilight Velvet was slumped against the stew pot, motionless.

“He didn’t,” Crescent breathed, putting his ear to his wife’s chest. The heart rate was normal, she was breathing. “Thank Celestia,” he muttered, falling back on his hooves.

Getting to his hooves, Shining looked at the destruction the skirmish had left in its wake. Potion bottles were shattered about the room, various herbal liquids mixed into a godawful mess on the floor. Several smoking charred patches on the walls signified missed shots.

Shining sighed and looked at what his wife was about to drink before the attack. Two bottles of zebrian remedies remained, perfectly intact in contrast with their surroundings.

“I guess we can still have kids,” Shining muttered, beginning to pick his way carefully through the wreckage.

“Sh- Shining?” Twilight’s soft voice sounded out behind him. He turned, walking to his wife’s side.

“Are you alright, darling?” he asked, looking over Twilight’s white coat. It was pristine, no signs of a shot.

“Yeah.” Twilight got to her hooves, looking around at the destruction. “Are the potions safe?”

“Yes,” Crescent said, looking at a smoking pot in a corner. “We can still have a family.” He looked around a little more before turning to his wife. “I’m so sorry, darling. I wish we didn’t have to go through all this just to have a foal. Damn birth defects.”

“Look,” Twilight said seriously, “I don’t care if you couldn’t talk; I love you anyway.”

“Good.” The two embraced in the middle of the destruction, as a very confused Zecora got to her hooves.

“Curse that stallion, I shall never have another scallion!” Zecora shouted, waving her hoof at the door angrily.

“What do onions have to do with this exactly?” Shining asked, confused.

“Ryhmes do not have to make sense, my friend, they only have to sound right in the end,” Zecora said simply, looking over her ransacked house.

“Oh,” Twilight Velvet said, giggling a little.

~~~

The rain relentlessly poured down on Canterlot as the two walked home. It was around midnight, a new day was beginning. The street lamps shined through the rain, illuminating the road.

Both were in high spirits, for if if this worked out, their first child would be born in around six months. But Shining Crescent had one more thing he had to do before they arrived home for a well deserved rest.

The guardpony station was quiet, only a few officers were on duty at this time in the morning. The soaked couple pushed open the door and squeaked across the floor, dripping all the way. The officer at the desk looked up from his crossword, eyeing the two with slight surprise.

“What brings ya here this time a night?” he asked, intently studying the crossword on his desk with a frustrated expression. “And ya wouldn’t happen to know what a ‘Large stone farming machine’ is, would ya?”

“A tiller,” Shining rattled off immediately.

“Hey, that fits,” the guard said, writing the word in. “Now 12 across is giving me problems…”

“Sorry officer,” Twilight Velvet interrupted. “We didn’t come here to play crosswords, we have a crime to report.”

“A crime, eh?” the guard raised an eyebrow, gulping another cup of coffee. “Awful annoying, are crimes, always getting in the way of yer crossword, eh?”

“Well,” Crescent said awkwardly, “could you file a report for a tan cloaked stallion, orange face, bad temper. He attacked us at Zecora’s residence down the street.”

“Oh?” The guard trotted over to a file, pulling out a blank form with several lines on it. “We’ll look into it.” He jotted down the information Crescent had given him.

“Thank you very much,” Crescent said, turning to leave.

“Hold on!” the officer called. “What’s a word that starts with ‘Aye’ and is a vis-you-all receiver?” The couple groaned.

“Eyeball,” Crescent said annoyed, galloping out of the station with his wife.

“Thanks!” the officer called after them, “NOW WHAT’S EIGHTEEN ACROSS?”

~~~

Six months later, Twilight Velvet gave birth to a little white unicorn colt. They named him Shining Armor, using the first name of his father and a seemingly appropriate last name. Shining Armor was talented with magic, learning to perform barriers at a very young age. He joined the Royal Guard at the age of fifteen, and moved through the ranks quickly. Within a year of joining, he was almost a captain.

Two years later, a lavender filly became Shining’s younger sister. Twilight Sparkle, a very talented magician as well, moved on to become princess Celestia’s prestige. Eventually, she rose to be the element of magic, aiding in the destruction of Nightmare Moon.

But what happened to the third jar? Where did it go? And more importantly, who drank it?

Author's Note

This is an idea that's been bouncing around in my head, and I just had to write it down. Enjoy.

Chapter 1 Author's Note

I know there's quite a bit of... questionably in character behavior in Celestia in this chapter, but if you bear with it, you MAY decide that she wasn't that crazy after all.... or she is, but at least she's getting better. Sorry about this, but the whole story kinda revolves around it...

Chapter 1

Daughter of the Night

Chapter One

Scandal of the Moon
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sixteen years after those strange events, Twilight Velvet and Shining Crescent’s daughter, Twilight Sparkle, lived in the Ponyville library.

It was a quiet morning, as Saturdays most often were, so the young librarian was taking the time to sleep in. The slanted rays of the morning sun were blocked from the bedroom because of a large shade in front of the window. It was quiet and dark, the perfect kind of cave Twilight intended it to be.

From the kitchen, the smell of indulgence wafted up the stairs. Fried grits, baked apples; all the lovely smells you could imagine. Twilight rolled in her sleep, her dreams pervaded by the odors.

She smiled. Even flunking out of magic kindergarten wasn’t that bad when you inexplicably smell a lovely breakfast. The rug on the floor twitched slightly in the draft, one corner curling over entirely.

Small footsteps echoed through the hall outside, padding their way to their bedroom. Spike had decided that a good breakfast in bed was just what he needed, although nopony was around to cook it for him. For that aspect, he resorted to getting up, making his own breakfast, and then carting it back to bed and pretending he never left.

A loud crash reverberated through the library, following with several hurried cries of “Twilight!”. Twilight rolled over, groaned, and put a pillow on her ears.

“Where the hay is she?” Applejack’s voice said grumpily, muffled from underneath the pillow. “She really ought to know about things like this.”

“Can you imagine it?” Rarity’s voice persisted through the pillow, “Princess Luna doing that?”

Twilight stuck her head out from her blankets, her face was blanched with frustration. “Why do they have to show up now?” she muttered, casting a quick sound barrier between herself and the visitors. “It’s only ten.”

She plunged back under the covers, relieved from the noise of her friends. A few moments later, right as she was drifting off to sleep, a vibration shook her bed. Groaning, Twilight got up, grumpily throwing the pillows back on the mattress.

“What’s going on here?!” she asked loudly after exiting her bedroom. Her friends were standing in the main room, all looking at a fallen bookcase. Pinkie walked around it, her normally cheerful face filled with remorse.

“Oh, sorry Twilight,” Pinkie said sadly, “I’ll clean it up. You still like me though?”

Twilight rolled her eyes. Pinkie was Pinkie. “Of course, but what the hay are you all doing here this early?!”

“Thanks Twilight!” Pinkie happily bounced back to the bookcase, replacing everything back to the way it was with superpony speed.

“We saw the most astounding news in the local press this morning!” Rarity exclaimed. Twilight narrowed her eyes skeptically.

“They don’t publish on weekends,” she said suspiciously.

“Well, dear, that’s just it,” Rarity continued, “The news was so shocking, they just HAD to report it!”

“What exactly is it then?” Twilight asked, rubbing her bleary as she walked down the steps. Rarity drew a newspaper out of her saddlebag and tossed it at Twilight’s hooves.

Twilight gasped. “This isn’t another Gabby Gums thing, is it?” she asked suspiciously.

“No dear,” Rarity shook her head, “It’s completely real.”

“We TOLD you it was shocking,” Rainbow said, alighting next to Twilight. “Now why don’t you read it?”

Twilight glanced around nervously, coughing. She brought the paper up to her face, holding it it there with a purple aura of magic.

“Scandal in the Monarchs,” she began, “This morning,the press was made aware of a particularly disturbing event in Canterlot. Princess Luna is…. wait,” Twilight paused, giving a severe expression to her friends, “With foal?”

“Sure as hay is, unless the Ponyville press is turnin’ down its reputation,” Applejack stated firmly.

“Really?” Twilight said slowly, furrowing her eyebrows. “Does this REALLY mean this has REALLY happened?”

“Yupsy daisy!” Pinkie said loudly, “That meanie mean meanie inconsiderate meanie pants Luna went and slept with somepony!”

“Are you kidding me?” Twilight said, suspiciously.

“Nope,” Pinkie stated, putting her face close to the librarian’s. Twilight recoiled, continuing to read the newspaper.

“Honestly,” Rarity fluffed her hair, “I always thought that Luna was trouble ever since we destroyed Nightmare Moon!”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said, apparently hanging in the air on her wings, “We should’ve finished her off completely!”

Twilight flattened her ears at the deriding comments. “Look,” she said, putting a hoof on the ground with an air of superiority, “just because this happened doesn’t mean that Luna is inherently bad. Personally, in all the time I’ve known her, she’d never even consider doing something like this.”

“Aha!” Pinkie shouted, erupting from her seat. “She’s not just a mean mean meanie pants, but she’s a deceiving mean mean meanie pants too!” She fell back on the ground. “This calls for Professor Pinkie.”

“Uh,” Fluttershy stuttered, looking nervously at the transforming Pinkie Pie, “I don’t think Luna would do anything like this either… I agree with Twilight, if you don’t mind…” She pawed at the ground with her hoof, but despite her shy air, she was very determined that Luna was innocent.

“Ok….” Applejack said, her face scrunched in indecision, “I’m not sure if the princess did this or not, but frankly, I’m willin’ to believe the press on this one.” Twilight sighed.

“Fine,” she said, her voice laden with defeat, “see if I care.” She turned to go back to her room, bringing the paper with her. The others left, after throwing dirty looks in the librarian’s direction, all of them except Fluttershy.

“If it’s any comfort,” Fluttershy said, climbing the stairs after a distraught Twilight, “I agree with you.”

The door slammed as the quartet of angered friends left, joining the crowds forming in the streets. Twilight entered her bedroom and pulled the curtain across, looking out on the streets of Ponyville.

Angry mobs of ponies were emerging, signs sprouted out of nowhere above the crowd. It was chaos, an angered chaos at a particular princess. Twilight examined every inch of the crowd, her brows furrowed in concentration.

“Uh, Twilight?” Fluttershy asked, walking up behind the fixated Twilight, “What are you looking for?”

“Him,” Twilight said sullenly, “He’s in here somewhere.”

“Who do you-”

“Why me of course!” a mischievous voice filled the room. Twilight whirled around, scanning every possible hiding place.

“Discord!” she cried. “I knew you’d have something to do with this!”

“What?” Discord said, prancing across the ceiling, “Oh no! I didn’t do any of this, but I certainly can’t miss a good show, can I?”

“Don’t lie,” Twilight said, seething with anger, “This is right your alley. You must have at least done something!”

“Well,” the flat Discord scratched his chin in thought, “I did do something.”

“Yes?”

“I spilled a glass of milk on a filly,” he stated, laughing a little. “All in good fun of course; you should have seen
her mother!”

“Yes, I should have,” Twilight said, flattening her ears. Fluttershy looked up at the god of chaos with fire in her eyes.

“You spilled a glass of milk on a filly?!” she shouted, “How DARE YOU!”

“Oh Fluttershy,” Discord laughed, “I know you’re my friend, but can’t you take a bit of a joke once and awhile?”

“But she must have gotten all wet!” Fluttershy said, “And that’s not funny.”

“Depends on who ask, really,” Discord said simply. “Ask the fun people and it’s funny, ask the boring people and it’s bad. Well, I never thought you were fun.” He sighed and popped out of the ceiling, obtaining a 3-dimensional shape once more. “But as I was saying, I didn’t organize this. Just showing up as a spectator. And it’s a wonderful show, if you ask me.”

“Discord…” Twilight breathed, “Nevermind.”

“Come now Twilight,” Discord said, wrapping a tail around the librarian, “You’ve got to admit it’s just a little funny!”

“No, I don’t,” Twilight said, “It’s all wrong.”

“But that’s the fun of it!” Discord said cheerfully, snapping his fingers and obtaining popcorn. “Come on, loosen up a bit!” He snapped his fingers again, turning the whole wall of the bedroom into a bay window looking over the mobs below.

“Hey!” Twilight cried, looking at her new window, “I liked that wall!”

“Relax.” Discord rolled his eyes. “I’ll put it back.”

“Discord!” Fluttershy cried, causing the draconequus to jump a little in the air.

“Yes dear?”

“You put Twilight’s wall back just the way it was this instant!”

“Oh poo poo,” Discord sighed, “I think I’ll find some more fun ponies to watch this with. Maybe Pinkie’s available…” With a snap of his fingers, Discord left, returning the wall back to being, well, a wall.

Twilight sighed. “It’s just not right,” she turned to Fluttershy, “I don’t know what’s wrong, but I know Luna wouldn’t do anything like that.”

“Don’t worry Twilight.” Fluttershy patted her friend on the back. “It’ll turn out alright.”

About three hours earlier…

It was early in the morning; the sun peeked above the horizon, unsure whether to continue. Birds chirped, bursting with joy of the new day. And somewhere in The Green between Canterlot and Ponyville, a groundhog stuck her head out of her hole for the first time that day, sniffing the morning air.

From behind Luna’s door, an argument was brewing.

“LUNA!” Celestia shouted in full Canterlot Royal Voice, storming into the room. Luna looked up from her books, quickly standing upright at the sight of her furious sister.

“Yes my sister?” she asked, her face clouded with concern.

“DON’T YOU ACT INNOCENT!” Celestia bellowed, slamming her hoof on the ground. “YOU KNOW PERFECTLY WELL WHAT YOU HAVE DONE!”

“No,” Luna responded nervously, “I have no idea.”

“You can’t fool me,” Celestia said venomously, “I’ve seen the signs.”

“What signs?” Luna asked, scared at her sister’s behaviour. She backed out onto the Moon Raising balcony, her face filled with fear.

“You didn’t eat your supper last night,” Celestia said quietly, “And the chef says you ordered an awful lot of toast to your room too.”

“I was hungry!” Luna defended herself sharply.

“But hungry enough to not eat your supper?” Celestia stopped approaching, spreading her wings menacingly, “Oh, and you were awfully eager to get back to your room yesterday morning.”

“I don’t know what you mean!” Luna cried, “I really don’t!”

“When is it expected?” Celestia rose into the air, bearing down on her sister.

“What is expected?!” Luna screamed, looking up at her angered sister.

“The foal.” The words had a profound affect on the scene, silencing the formally discordant sisters. Luna’s eyes were wide with shock, looking at Celestia in disbelief. Celestia’s wings pushed against the air silently, holding their bearer aloft.

“What?” Luna eventually managed to say after a long pause.

“The foal. When is it expected?” Celestia glowered at her sister. A magical arm reached out from her, winding towards Luna. It smashed her necklace.

The enchanted necklace fell to the ground, and as it did, Luna transformed. She became rounder, larger, taking on the form of an expectant mother.

“I- I-” Luna stuttered, “What?’

“Honestly, Luna,” Celestia said, lowering herself back to the balcony, “I can’t believe you’d do this.”

“Do what?” Luna asked suspiciously, regarding her sister with a certain caution.

“Have friends,” Celestia sighed, seething with anger.

“But- But I thought friends were magical?” Luna asked confusedly.

“I never said anything about friends WITH BENEFITS!” Celestia erupted, the sheer volume of her voice plastering Luna against the railing. Silence fell on the balcony. From inside, a cricket chirped.

“What?” Luna finally managed to say, “I didn’t- Do- Anything-”

“Luna Luna Luna,” Celestia muttered, turning her back to her sister. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

Luna was speechless. She gawked as her sister silently left the room. She slowly walked inside, still dumbfounded.

The princess stood in front of the mirror, staring at her black form. Her flowing mane drifted to one side, weighed low with sadness. Her eyes were wide and sad, fixated on her pathetic form in the mirror.

“What have I done?” she asked herself slowly, noticing her rounded stomach. She hadn’t noticed it before, was it the necklace? She never remembered putting an illusion spell on a necklace. She never remembered doing anything. But memories can deceive, can they not?

“I’m a fraud,” Luna hung her head, retreating to her bed. One could only imagine how the populace would react such shocking news. A princess bearing a bastard child? It’d be the best Luna could do to stay alive, much less in office.

The gentle pitter patter of tears punctuated the silence, accompanied by a small sniffle. From outside, a venomous voice was bellowing, filled with anger.

“CITIZENS OF EQUESTRIA!” it screamed, “I HAVE NEWS.” Luna shuttered at what was to come next.

“Please, please,” she muttered under her breath, hoping that this would be some other news.

“Princess Luna,” the voice continued, softer but just as clear, “is pregnant.” A shocked mumble went around the crowd that had formed, reverberating like electricity. The few reporters hurriedly wrote, their ink covered faces furrowed in concentration.

Luna, up in her room, sat up in her bed. “I know what’s next,” she thought. “They’ll hate me.”

“Any idea who the partner was?” one of the reporters called out. Celestia shook her head.

“Further investigation will be performed when the foal is born,” Celestia said sullenly.

“What are the plans for the child?” another ink reporter called out among the click of cameras.

Luna held her breath.

“It will be treated as any other foal would be,” Celestia said, “I may be angry with my sister, but taking anger on an innocent foal helps nothing.”

“Will it be considered an heir to the throne?” another chimed in.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It is not purebred, like all other heirs before us were,” Celestia said shortly. “The throne, not even princesship, will not be given to a child whose parents are not properly married into the royal family.”

“What sorts of punishment will be in store for your sister?” one reporter cried above the din of approval. Luna felt her mouth go dry. This was it. This was the acid test of her future. There was silence, the entire crowd stopped to focus on the contemplating ruler.

“Well,” Celestia said slowly, “I think. Maybe. Aside from my freshly garnered hatred, a year in the moon may be in order.”

Luna’s eyes opened wide. She dashed to the balcony, looking down on the crowd below. In the center of the crescent, Celestia stood on the palace steps, a sad but angry expression fixed to her face.

“My sister!” Luna screamed, “You cannot send me back there! Certainly not with the foal!” The crowd turned as one, looking at the desprate princess. They’re faces became scowls, glaring at Luna with enough force to shatter a brick wall.

“STOP LYING!” Celestia screamed suddenly, whirling to face her sister. She closed her eyes, dipping her head to the ground. “Do you not realize the magnitude of your actions?” she asked, glaring at her sister once more. “HIDING SOMETHING LIKE THIS?!”

“I- I-” Luna stuttered. She dipped her head in resignation, sighing heavily.

“You and your… ‘child’ will suffer any punishment I deem necessary,” Celestia glowered at her sister, “Is. That. Clear?”

“Yes,” Luna said softly. A tear dropped to the balcony, the small sound audible in the eerie silence.

“Meet me in my room at nine,” Celestia said, turning to the crowd, “It will be ‘dealt with’ then.”

Luna turned back, trudging into her room. Behind her, shouts of distaste, boos, slandering comments, radiated from the crowd. Her horn glowed, slamming the balcony doors behind her. A tomato slammed against it.

“But I didn’t do anything,” she said softly, standing at the foot of her bed, “and you didn’t either.” She looked at her stomach, rubbing it gently with a hoof. As if in response, she felt a soft kicking, pushing against her hoof.

Luna smiled, laying down on her bed. She talked to herself, pouring her worries, her concerns, out to the air. A vague smile found its way onto her tear-stricken face.

“I doth know thee, Celestia, will banish me, but pray thee, wait for the foal,” she said softly. Outside, the sun rose, higher and higher it climbed in the sky, until it was nine o’clock.

“Well,” Luna sighed, “It is time.” She walked to her door, pushing it open with a burst of magic.

The hallways were quiet, but did nothing to comfort her evergrowing stress.

What will she do? Luna thought, I cannot go to the moon, not again!

This is not right, another part of her put in, Something is… Not right.

You’re right! a sarcastic thought chirped, WE’RE GOING TO THE MOON.

No no the calm and logical side said. I’d say there’s something more sinister at work here.

Ahem, the other voice broke in, Celestia is SINISTER!

Luna sighed as her sister’s room drew nearer, I will find out what is going on... somehow.

She stood in front of the door silently, boring into the wood with her conflicted gaze. Both parts of her were right, in their own ways, but what would happen to her after she opened this door? Was it the door to her nightmares? The door to her dreams? Dream, that is, of being reprimanded by her sister with nothing more than a scold.

Luna’s mane flowed like water,trickling down the air in an ever-present waterfall. Her face was sad as she stared at the brass plate.

Princess of the Sun, Supreme Ruler Celestia

With a final gulp, she pushed open the door.

Celestia was reading, quietly, on her bed. Her formally upset face was calm, but red with tears. Her horn glowed softly as the book was held upright. She looked serenely at the ink, but under that mask of serenity, she was boiling.

“Ah, Luna,” she said calmly. Too calmly, Luna thought.
Luna thought. Celestia shifted her gaze, glaring down on her sister. Luna walked in slowly, uncertain to run or sit. “Do have a seat.”

The voice wasn’t commanding, nor was it pleasant. It had a sort of cool expectancy that instills the feeling of ‘Do what I want, or I’ll snap your neck.' A chill shivered through Luna’s spine. She hurriedly took the closest seat available.

“Now,” Celestia closed the book, throwing it to the other side of the room. It landed with a thud, toppling a small pile of books to the floor. “What will I do with you?”

“Sister,” Luna said slowly, looking at her slightly deranged sibling, “why are you doing this?”

“Hmm?” Celestia mused, looking at Luna with a certain impunity. “I am acting perfectly normal. It merely comes as a shock when I find my sister would dip so low as to…” She bit her lip, looking at the ceiling. “As to be careless with her actions in this severe a way.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Luna pleaded, “Please, forgive me!”

“Forgive you?” Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Oh no.”

“What?”

“The punishment for sexual harassment is five years in prison,” Celestia said calmly. “We haven’t had a case of it for years. But for a pony of your stature, I think a more… Suitable containment can be arranged.”

“Please,” Luna begged, bowing before her sister, “Think before you act!”

“Oh, I have thought,” Celestia said, smiling. “I have thought long and hard… And I think, oh I don’t know; a few more years in the moon?”

“Not with foal!” Luna looked up with pleading eyes, “At least without foal.”

Celestia grinned. “Of course my sister,” she said in mock sympathy. “Would you rather we executed an abortion first?” Luna’s eyes were wide with shock. In the past hour that she knew she was with foal, the little thing had grown on her.

“No,” she said, “Could you please stop these antics!” Luna looked at her sister with newfound anger. “What is wrong with you?!”

“Nothing,” Celestia said simply, “You must worry first about yourself.” Her horn glowed.

“No,” Luna stated flatly, standing up. Celestia’s horn grew brighter, wind began to circle. Bright rays of magic sliced the air, a crackling sound was heard. Luna stood in front of this, boring into her sister with an iron glare. “No.”

Celestia began to rise into the air, her body lost in the morass of white light. “I, Celestia, ruler of Equestria, punish you for unlawful acts. Including impregnation without a proper marriage. Punishment, I hereby decree is-”

The wind grew, flecks of rainbow began travelling in it. Luna looked straight at her sister, a steady, even glare. “No.”

Then she charged straight into the mass of light, running through the whirlwind with a steely determination. For a moment, all she saw was white. A blinding white light. And then, the Sun Raising Balcony leaped out at her.

“LUNA,” Celestia commanded, “RETURN.” A whip made of white energy shot out of the whirlwind, heading straight for Luna. She gritted her teeth.

*FZZZZZZT!*

The whip locked with Luna’s horn, grappling with the purple magic. Luna threw it to the ground… And leapt off the balcony.

“COME BACK!” Celestia demanded. Luna spread her wings, gliding easily through the field of magic missiles filling the sky. They exploded, once passing her, creating a firework effect all over Canterlot.

“No,” Luna breathed, her horn gaining a glow, “I will never come back.” And with a blast of purple, she was gone. The shockwave broke windows, shook houses, but Luna didn’t care.

Her foal would live.

~~~~~

Celestia’s soul burned. It burned with frustration, with conflict, and with anxiety. The shockwave washed over her as she looked at the plume of purple smoke.

It rose, shaping a faint mushroom in the air, small trails formed rings. Celestia knew that spell well, a long distance teleportation spell.

The air in the bedroom crackled with magic, the white light still shining over Canterlot. Celestia sighed as she sucked the light back in, landing on the floor with a definite thump. She closed her eyes, raising her head to the sky.

It was the warm light of mid-morning that struck her chin. Warmth flew threw her like an unrelenting tidal wave. She spread her wings and raised a hoof, making the scene as dramatic as possible.

As she stood there, warmed by the sun, her mane flowing freely by her side, there was a soft knocking and the creak of an opening door. Hoofsteps made their way across the room, stopping just behind the sun princess.

“Yes?” Celestia said, remaining immobile.

“Celestia,” the firm voice slashed Celestia’s mood like a curtain, “Celestia Faust.” She turned, looking straight into two eyes; two burning eyes. And their owner was not happy either.

“Cadence?” Celestia’s eyes opened wide as she recoiled. “What are you doing here?”

“Business,” Cadence said coolly. “And punishment.” She gave Celestia a stare known to pony kind for decades, its powers unmatched in the arts of stare combat: the Foalsitter Stare.

“Cadence I-” Celestia started, retreating as Cadence drew forward. Her mane was a mess, her eyes were angry, and her mouth was set. She was a sight.

“What did you do?” she asked coldly, “What. Did. You. Do?!”

“Honestly, nothing,” Celestia said promptly, “And what happened to your mane-”

“Nevermind that,” Cadence said, boring into Celestia’s being with a firm stare. “What did you try to do?”

For once Celestia was at a loss for words. In all her life, her eons of political debates, had anypony caught her so off guard. “I tried to banish Luna to the moon,” she finally managed to stutter. Cadence glared harder.

“Without going through the proper summit?” she asked, “Without consulting me, without consulting the
?!?!”

“Cadence, honestly,” Celestia leaned off the edge of the balcony, frozen in place.

“Inside. Now,” Cadence commanded. Like clockwork Celestia obeyed. After both were settled, Cadence presented her case.

“You didn’t give Luna a fair trial. You disobeyed the laws of your own kingdom on your own
” Cadence said angrily. Celestia nodded her head solemnly. “You know anypony is entitled to a fair trial. And at the very least, the VERY LEAST,” Cadence boomed, “Consult with the summit before doing anything. And when I say anything, I mean an-y-thing. Am I clear?”

“Yes,” Celestia said, regaining her composure, “You certainly are. I may have acted a little impulsively. But……” Celestia paused, looking at the floor. “It was correct.”

Cadence raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Luna was,” Celestia pressed on, “disappointing to me. I merely acted as I judged best. She broke some of the highest laws in our culture.”

“She murdered somepony?” Cadence asked, rolling her eyes.

“No,” Celestia said worriedly, “She was with foal.”

“You never invited me,” Cadence raised another eyebrow. And, to Celestia’s quizzical look, “To the wedding.”

“There wasn’t one.”

It was silent enough you could hear a pin drop.

*Ping!*

And they did.

“Where’d that come from anyway?” Celestia asked, levitating the sharp metal needle over to her.

“Give it here,” Cadence nabbed it in her magic, grabbing her mane at the same time. For a second there was a great deal of hair, a little bit of dust, and mild swearing. Celestia watched, bemused.

From the mess, however, Cadence emerged, her hair neatly pinned back. “As I was saying,” she said, putting a hoof on the table, “even if ponies go around having, *ahem*, children, we must adhere to our protocol! Did it ever occur to you that Luna might be innocent?”

“She isn’t,” Celestia declared, “There is no other explanation.” Cadence sighed, throwing her newly pinned mane back. In the corner, a lamp flickered.

“Even so,” Cadence said flatly, “You simply must consult with the summit before you do
like this! Am I clear?”

“Yes.” Instead of drooping her head, Celestia returned Cadence’s glare. “I will act as I will, NIECE! Who adopted you? Hmm? Who raises the sun?! ME. I’m entitled to do anything! I could reverse gravity for all I care!”

She slammed a hoof on the table, spilling a coffee cup. “If anypony declares that they’re above my rein, that they’re more important, I’ll just ask them: who the hell raises the sun?”

Cadence blinked. “Did you get any sleep last night?” she asked coolly, completely unphased by the royal outburst.

“No,” Celestia said, “I was…. worried.”

“I see,” Cadence nodded, “Now I suggest you get some rest before we do any more. You know, nopony, even the goddess that created the world, can think straight without proper sleep.” Cadence rubbed Celestia’s ethereal mane, smiling slightly.

Now it was Celestia’s turn to blink. Her face was frozen in shock. “Alright.” She plodded towards her bed. “You win.”

“Thank you!” Cadence said in relief. “I’ll see you this evening. We’ll get this sorted out.”

The door closed quietly behind her as Celestia slammed the curtain shut. The darkness rolled over everything, an unrelenting force as it traveled across the room. Celestia settled down in bed, rubbing her head a little.

“You heard Cadence,” she said quietly, “It’ll all be fine.”

~~~~~~~

In the pervading sunlight, the ever present cheerful glow of Canterlot, one stallion had a lot on his mind. The room was wooden, ornate with decorations and small gold trophies. Books lined the wall, bordering the slim oaken desk behind which Restless Vigil was waiting.

He twitched a pen in nervous hooves, flicking a glance between his desk and the clock once and awhile. A long hoofwritten page lay in front of him, which he looked over carefully.

It looked like a list, the scribbles denoting different materials, steps, and precautions. Restless looked over it, a cool expectancy of a pony who is boiling mad. He knew they had done it right. No corners were cut, not to his knowledge at any rate.

He looked at the clock once more. Half past three. He's late, Restless thought, twitching the pen faster now. I hate tardy ponies. The clock glared back at him. The second hand moved slowly, jerking in movement. There was a knock on the door.

“Yes?” Restless said, relieved. The door creaked open, revealing a stallion. Restless’s face fell. “Yes Virgil?”

“Your tea, sir,” Virgil entered the room. His tan form was exquisite, only tarnished by a cutie mark of a cup and saucer. His black mane was combed and brushed, resulting in uniformly straight hairs. He set the tray on the table, nodding to Restless before beginning to leave the room.

“Virgil!” Restless called, chewing the end of his pen. Virgil stopped and turned slowly.

“Yes, sir?” he asked, raising an eyebrow on his cool face.

“Any guests arrive?” Restless asked, pouring the sugar tin into his drink.

“Not that I know of, sir,” Virgil said, “I will keep you informed, as always, sir.”

“Thank you,” Restless sipped the sickeningly sweet tea. It cooled his nerves.

“Will that be all, sir?” Virgil asked, standing expectantly in the doorway.

“For the moment, yes.” Restless coughed a little on the tea. As much as it soothed his nerves, it sure didn’t taste good. “What did you put in that sugar?”

“Sugar, I believe, sir,” Virgil said, “ground from only the finest of cane.”

“Yes,” Restless coughed, “That may be the problem.”

“Sir?”

“Nevermind, you may go,” Restless waved a hoof. Virgil left the room, softly closing the door with all the manners he could muster. Restless gulped down the tea, repressing the sudden urge to expel it.

*WHAM!*

The noise shook Restless, who ran to his bookshelves to catch a falling trophy. The shelves rattled, and Restless Vigil was buried in a mound of golden trophies. One bounced down the pile, a soft metallic tink reverberating every time it hit, and rolled to a halt.

The small etched plaque on it carefully read:

{Best Skills With Magic; Rolling Art’s competition, Canterlot}

Which was rather strange, considering Restless was an earth pony.

The door opened with a cough, and Virgil entered. “Your guest has arrived, sir, most-” he paused, as though looking for appropriate words, “-enthusiastically, if I do say so myself.”

“Good,” the pile of trophies stated with relief. “Send him in.” The pile shifted, moving as an unseen force moved it. It rose into a mound and erupted.

Restless was just shaking the last trophy out of his ear and placing it carefully on the shelf when a cloaked unicorn stepped in. Aurora Burst threw back his hood, revealing his glistening eyes.

“It is done,” he said flatly. “Both jobs.”

“Excellent,” Restless said, a devious gleam in his eye. “And the paper?”

“Right here.” Aurora slammed a piece of newsprint on Restless’s table. He looked over it, smiling as he read down the page.

“Very good,” Restless pushed the paper towards Aurora, “Now why exactly were you late?”

“Got caught up, traffic, you know,” Aurora said somewhat sheepishly.

“You are a time traveller! How could you be late with that kind of a skill?!”

“I overshot by an hour,” Aurora said, “Sorry about that.”

“Excused,” Restless brushed the apology aside without a second thought. “Now, what’s the recent news on our princess?”

“I did a little research into that as well,” Aurora said, a beady gleam appearing in his eye. “She’s fled. Just as predicted.”

“Excellent,” Restless grinned. “Commence phase two.” Aurora nodded solemnly.

“I will inform the others,” he said grimly.

“Do that,” Restless said, looking out the window with dreamy eye. “There is still much to be done.”