Celestial Lance

 Digging. And more digging. That was the crux of the life of a diamond dog. Always digging, digging, be it up or down, sideways or longways. They were a hardy creature, bred for digging and not much else.

 Sweet J.D. was one such diamond dog, a mutt of no particular family. J.D. was a digger supreme. You could ask him to dig straight to the core, and his response would be “How quick?”

 In appearance, J.D. was a musty brown, and a single snaggle-toothed fang stuck out from the left side of his mouth. His ears where pockmarked from the constant brawling a diamond dog was prone to. His tail was little more than a stub, wagging back and forth when he was happy, stock still when he was angry.

 Right now, Sweet J.D. was digging his way upwards, safety goggles on and claws out to protect himself from falling. He’d been digging for… oh, how long had it been now? Almost a day? He had plenty of water in his digger uniform and enough jerky to last him another day at least. J.D. could feel a payday above him, otherwise he would’ve quit long ago.

 His drill bit hit something harder than packed soil or even rock. Stopping the drill, J.D. flipped his goggles up. He squinted at the blackness in front of him, and then stabbed the drill bit into the side of the tunnel. Taking a flashlight from his belt, Sweet J.D. switched it on and placed it in his mouth.

 His obstacle was metal, the light reflecting off it into his eyes. He grunted, and spat the flashlight out, catching it in a paw before returning it to its place.

 J.D. grabbed hold of the drill and ripped it from the tunnel wall, and began to fiddle with the bit. After a few minutes of swearing and panting, he got the bit removed, and he reached into another pocket to get a different one out.

 With a little work, he snapped the new drill bit into place and began drilling again. Sparks flew as the diamond-tip tore through the metal above him. To his surprise, it only took a few minutes before he had opened a hole into a cavern above him.

 J.D.’s head popped through the hole and into a dimly lit room. He made a grunt, and pulled himself through the small hole, which was not a mean feat, given his small frame.

 Surrounding him were beeping machines that resembled what the ponies used. He wrinkled his nose at the thought. Ponies were stupid. They were smarter than he was, and that made them dumb. He hated dumb things.

 Sweet J.D. smiled to himself. He was in a virtual treasure trove of stuff that looked neat and shiny. He wasn’t sure what he’d use half of it for, but he still wanted it. Of course, there were those grots back in the mine below. They’d want a share for sure, which meant he’d need to go back and rustle up a posse to clean this place out.

 Pausing briefly in his search, J.D. pulled down a promising looking decoration from the wall. It was a jewel-encrusted shield of some kind, with a faint scrawled insignia at the bottom. The diamond dog hopped back into the hole, and released his safety claws, allowing him to slide down the tunnel like a shot. He left in such a hurry, he failed to notice a helpful map on the wall that would’ve told him all he needed to know about the strange place he had found.

 At the top was a single line that read: “Alkali Lake Base”.

***

 Sweet J.D. paced outside the thick metal door, thinking about what he would say once he got inside. He had to be quick on the draw and tough to get a good deal with Max. Otherwise the spindly little spider of a diamond dog would skin J.D. for all he was worth. And, if J.D. was lucky, he might skip the ceremonial pissing on the remains.

 The door opened, and Bo poked his head out. Bo was rather slow-minded boxer who Max generally used to rough up customers. “You can come in, the boss sez.”

 J.D. nodded, and stepped through the doorway once Bo had retreated. There was Max, seated behind a desk full of tchotchkes – gnawed-on rat bones, gems too small or imperfect to sell, dog-eared books, and the like. Max himself was a little terrier with beady eyes and a penchant for fur coats larger than himself. Perched crookedly on his head was a ratty old bowler hat.

 “Sweet J.D., we meet again. I always like hearing your voice. And seeing you lose your money.”

 “Max. I’ve got a treasure load for you.”

 “Oh, really? See, way I hear it, you’ve been digging upwards not downwards. Digging up is a very poor choice, way I hear. Circles within circles above us. What’s below is what’s important.” Max scooped up a handful of bones, realised his mistake, and replaced them with jewels. “The type of stuff we can sell. If I wanted snow, I’d send Bo up and let him build a snowdog. Oh, sit, boy. Sit.”

 On reflex, J.D. seated himself in the chair across the table from Max before cursing his own obedience. “Look, Max, I’ve got a big payout. This time it ain’t crap. It’s legit, ya dig?”

 “I don’t dig. That’s what the masses are for. Sweet J.D., you haven’t brought me a good payout in years. In fact, I heard that even down in Equestria you never dug up anything worth a rat’s arse. And need I even remind you of that pony that put you out of business and sent you hopeless scruffy-looking gaffers cringing and scraping back to me.”

 The irony of Max of all dogs to call J.D. and his gang scruffy-looking gaffers was not lost on him. He just smiled at the smaller dog and let Max continue.

 “Now, please. Regale me with tales of whatever wealth you think you found.”

 “Well, I think I found this.” Sweet J.D. pulled out the shield he had found with a flourish. “It looks nice, don’t it?”

 Max was practically salivating over it. He leaned over the table, paws outstretched to seize it. J.D. yanked it away just in time with a big grin.

 “Like what ya see? I bet there’s more where it came from. Dug my way into a Circle base. We pull this gig off straight they won’t know we were even there.”

 Max slapped the table, snickering loudly. “Alright, you’ve piqued my interest. Let’s say two days from now you and Bo hit the place and come back full to the brim with stuff you two steal. I get seventy-five percent, you get fifteen and Bo here gets ten.”

 J.D. pretended to mull it over. Circle stuff was worth a fortune on the black market, and it always seemed to find its way to the griffons. If he held back his share and sold it straight to the griffs he could make more money than he’d seen in his life. Then Fido, Rover, and Spot would regret ever kicking him off their dig-gang.

 “Sounds like a deal, daddy-o. Two days.”

***

 A hazy light greeted Rainbow Dash as she opened her eyes. Everything was unclear, and it seemed dark in places. Depth was also a problem. She could see a calendar on the far wall, but was unable to determine just how far away it was. Dash gritted her teeth at this. If she couldn’t figure that out, then she wouldn’t be able to fly any time soon.

 “Oh boy oh boy you’re up!” Now there was something Dash could figure out easily – the voice of a good friend.

 “Hey, Pinks. How’s it hangin’?” Dash croaked. Geez, I sound bad.

 “Peachy! I thought you were gonna sleep forever,” Pinkie said. “It’s been like a week.”

 “A week? Geez. I hope the ship didn’t fall apart without me.”

 “Oh, my dear Rainbow Dash. You may be tough and sticky, but you’re hardly the glue that binds us together.” Rarity stepped into view, which confused Dash greatly. She seemed to come out of nowhere on Dash’s left side.

 “Where did you come from?” Dash asked, squinting in confusion. Her left eyelid didn’t feel like it was matching the movements of its sibling on the right.

 “Oh, dear. I was hoping the nurse would come in so she could tell you, but…” Rarity took in a deep breath, closing her eyes. “When you electrified yourself and Pinkie caught you, your head struck the console. Ah, you… You may or may not have lost vision in your left eye.”

 Dash’s heart dropped and she buried her head in her hooves. As a pegasus, this was one of the worst things she could hear. Being able to perceive depth was crucial to flight. A downed pegasus was more worthless than a three-legged table, her grandpa would always say.

 “Don’t fret, dear!” Rarity grabbed Dash’s head and tilted it up to face her. “It’s only temporary. Something to do with electricity and closeness to the control panel while falling or somesuch. I’m a fashion designer, dear, not a doctor. But I have something for you to cope with it. I rather hope you like it.”

 Dash noticed Rarity had a saddlebag hanging from her side, and grimaced, wondering why she didn’t notice it sooner. The bag opened of its own accord, and Rarity withdrew a thick cord the same colour as the sky. She floated it over to Dash, who took it in her hooves.

 “What is it?” Dash turned it over, frowning doubtfully.

 “A special kind of eyepatch me I developed with Time Turner’s help. It relies on many tiny cameras that combine to create one large camera. Your range of vision will actually be improved by it. In fact, I’m sure you’ll miss it once your eyesight returns.”

 Rainbow Dash slung the high-tech eyepatch around her injured eye, clipping it together in the back. “Like this? How does it, like, do stuff with my brain and crap to –” There was a quiet snikt sound and Dash let out a high-pitched squeal. “Oh. It does that.”

 “Yes, it inserts microscopic nanites into your eye to attach to ocular nerves and transmit the data from the eyepatch to your brain and convert it to the proper signals. It’s rather interesting, I think.”

 “Yeah. Does that weird prickly feeling ever go away or is that permanent?” Dash poked the eyepatch with a hoof. “Woah, freaky deeky. My hoof looks weird.”

 “Oh, I don’t even know that,” Rarity tittered. “You’re our official pony test subject.”

 “Oh, fun.” Dash sighed. “Man I’m gonna look weird in this. Don’t I look weird, Pinkie?”

 She turned to face Pinkie. The mare shook her head slowly. “No way! Are you embarrassed of that thing? It looks super neat! Don’t feel weird. It’s just an eyepatch. Remember Hardhoof, our instructor? He had an eyepatch.”

 Rarity nodded. “Yes, Rainbow Dash. Is there shame in wearing an eyepatch?” She clicked her tongue. “I say no!”

 Dash got a small smile on her face. “Well if you two guys think so, I guess it’s alright. I kinda want to see how much of a badass I am in it. Get a mirror, would ya?”

***

Magical power resonates in all of us, my faithful student. From the clever machinations of unicorns to the brute force of earth ponies to the grace of pegasi, we all have magic within, and the potential to become great. Just because somepony says they are greater than you does not mean that. You can become great with your own mind.

It is all about harmony. Harmony allows for pure magic, our magic. The more you are in harmony with yourself and others, the more powerful your magic becomes. This is the simplest version of the Theory of Harmonics. Set your mind to something and it will be yours.

Chaos, too. It is dark magic, impure. It ruins what it touches and corrupts the rest. The less you are in harmony, the more chaotic your magic is. If there is a Theory of Harmonics, there must also be a Theory of Chaotics. They are laws of the universe, entangled and wrapped around each other. You must have Harmony and Chaos in a perfect balance.

I see a path for you, Twilight, a path no others could take. Remember what I have said about magic and harmony. You have the potential. We all do.

 Twilight woke, blinking bleary eyes. That dream… She’d had it before, numerous times since the war started. A dark room, illuminated by a column of light in the centre. There was a great throne in the light, with a shadowed figure sitting on it. Celestia’s voice echoed throughout the chamber. It felt like she was speaking from a long ago memory.

 A memory Twilight had no recollection of. She had a fantastic memory, and yet there she could not remember Celestia ever saying those words. They felt right, though. Like there was an intrinsic truth to what she said.

 Twilight shivered. Ever since the technological revolution, Celestia and Luna had stepped quietly out of the limelight. They gave Equestria to the technocrats, and Twilight soon rose to the top of the technocracy. But here she was travelling with her friends – well, most of them – to save the world. Just like the old days.

 Except there were no old days anymore, just blurry memories and nothing else. With a sigh, Twilight rolled out of bed and walked slowly to the bathroom. Running a brush through her mane, she wondered not for the first time if she should call Celestia and ask about the strange dream. Or better yet, ask the dreamcatcher herself.

 She shook her head, and returned the brush to its place in the cabinet behind the mirror. Calling the princesses over a bad dream was pointless. It was just stress, that’s all. Twilight could swear she had read somewhere reoccurring dreams were linked to stress.

 Her computer beeped. Twilight stepped out of the bathroom, and sat down in her chair.

 “What do you want this early, Time Turner?” she asked nobody in particular. She hit the accept button, and a hologram of Time Turner appeared above the desk.

 “Sorry to disturb your beauty sleep, Commander.”

 “It’s fine, I just woke up anyway. What’s going on?”

 Time Turner looked like he would be wringing his hands right now if he had any. “Uh, I’ve been examining the thaumic resonance for the CLOPs that are in for repair. I found something… odd.”

“How odd?” Twilight frowned. For Time Turner to claim something was odd meant it had to be extremely strange.

 “Your friends, Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie. Their CLOPs have… well, their thaumic resonance is practically off the charts.”

 “Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie?” she asked, jaw dropping. “How is that possible? They’re not even unicorns.”

 “I can’t explain it, but over the past few weeks their resonance charts have spiked greatly. Especially in times of crisis. It’s almost as if they’re drawing on each other for more power every time they fight.”

 They were in harmony with each other, Twilight realised. Like the voice in her dream told her. “This is bizarre,” she said finally. “Next time they’re in combat together, can you collect more data?”

 Time Turner nodded. “I certainly can, but what are you going to do with this information?”

 “I… I don’t know,” Twilight replied. “Not yet anyway.”