Shadow of the Castle

by Raugos

Rating: everyone
Tags: Adventure, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike
Length: 29832

Something ancient lurks in the abandoned library.

Twilight and Spike return to the Castle of the Two Sisters, only to find that their previous foray into its depths may not be what they remember.

Published 2013-12-09 17:50:11 UTC
Last updated 2015-11-02 14:56:36 UTC

Chapter 1

The Everfree Forest lay dark and foreboding far below, smothered under a thick cover of grey stratus clouds. Twilight suddenly felt rather grateful for her strenuous lessons with Rainbow Dash, given that her mastery of flight had enabled her to avoid a gloomy morning trudging about in the rain and mud.

“Umm, Twi, I know that the princesses’ diary is kind of important to you, but is it so important that we need to go back and get it right now? If it was fine for the last thousand years, I don’t think a couple of days are going to make a difference. We only got back yesterday,” Spike complained from his seat on her back.

“For the record, it’s a journal, not a diary,” Twilight corrected. “Secondly, I did send Celestia and Luna a report on the state of the castle and our discovery of their personal belongings. They’re going to want it back, and it would be kind of embarrassing if I had to tell them that I actually forgot to take it home, wouldn’t it?”

I still can’t believe that actually happened, she thought to herself.

“Fine, fine,” Spike grumbled. She felt him shift a little and nudge around the saddlebags strapped to her sides, before he finally settled on a more comfortable position and added, “I just wish we didn’t have to go back so early in the morning.”

“The sooner we retrieve it, the less likely I am to have to apologise to the princesses for goofing up. Besides, there were a few volumes I’d like to bring back for further study.”

Spike chuckled. “Heh, I’m sure it’s more than just a few. I’d bet you’d get half of the royal guards to help you carry all of them back to Ponyville if you weren’t so scared of ‘abusing your authority’.”

Twilight could practically hear him making inverted commas in the air with his claws, but she smiled and kept silent. It was an awfully tempting idea that wasn’t totally without merit. He knew her too well.

* * * * *

They wasted no time in making straight for the partial shelter of the library when Twilight landed in the courtyard. It wasn’t quite raining yet in this part of the forest, but the clouds were heavy overhead and the fog around the castle looked like it was going to close in very soon.

It was really gloomy in the abandoned halls and corridors, so she conjured a little light to illuminate the way ahead. Amidst the loud echoes of their steps, there was a faint pitter-patter of dripping water throughout the place, plus the chatter of bats. And for some reason, she thought she could hear some whispering every now and then. Whispers that didn’t come from Spike. Twilight had to admit that the castle was creepier than she remembered. Or rather, the voice of reason in her head said, the combination of unfavourable weather and the lack of an urgent quest to find answers about the Tree’s mysterious chest was allowing her imagination a little more room for exercise. Still, the logic of it failed to fully assuage her disquietude as they descended the last stairwell into the library.

“Twilight, I know it’s going to sound like I’m scared – I’m not, really – but do you feel like something’s a little wrong with this place?” Spike whispered as they went past the library’s ancient doors.

“You mean aside from the fact that some parts of it may be structurally unstable? No, not really.” Twilight waved a wing dismissively in an attempt to bolster his courage. Inwardly, however, his words conveyed to her a sense of déjà vu. Which probably was to be expected, since it was pretty much how he’d felt when they first came here. What was odd was that they’d already attributed their fears to overactive imaginations two days before, so why was he regressing?

But she filed that thought away for later when she found the door to the secret chamber firmly shut.

“Spike, did we close that when we left?” she asked as she peered at the spot where it should’ve been. Upon closer inspection, the dirt on the stone floor around the moving shelves appeared to be completely undisturbed, as if they had never been moved at all.

“I don’t know. I mean, we slept here overnight and went home in the morning. That’s all I remember,” he replied, scratching his head.

His account matched her memory, but that only served to highlight how illogical it was for the secret chamber to be closed and have no sign of ever being opened before. She dashed to the chair that served as the opening lever. It was standing in its upright position, but as she pushed it over, she saw that the wood was in significantly poorer condition than she remembered. It had cracks running down the length of its beams and planks, and there was black lichen sprouting all over its under-surfaces. The table was in similar condition.

Okay, this is getting weird.

She took a step back when she heard the sound of gears and stone grinding against one another, and noted with some satisfaction that her guess had been correct; the moving shelves pushed the grime on the floor into piles and grooves when they slid along, meaning that unless somepony had taken the trouble to smooth over the dirt after they’d gone home, this was technically the first time they were opening.

She squinted as the dark opening loomed before them. Something was moving in there…

“Twilight—incoming!” Spike said urgently before he let loose a loud belch.

Green flames erupted from his mouth, and all coherent thought flew out of Twilight’s mind when a seething, chirping mass swarmed out of the dark chamber at head-height. Twilight shrieked and fell backwards onto her rump, and she very nearly released a blast of magic in self-defence as Spike huddled up against her back.

But the seething mass turned out to be nothing more than a large family of bats, and she sighed heavily in relief after giving her pounding heart some time to calm down. “Well, that was unfortunate timing,” she muttered. “What was that all about?”

Spike, after taking a moment to regain his composure, picked up the smoking scroll from the floor and offered it to her. “Only one way to find out.”

My dear Twilight,

I am glad that you and your friends learnt something of value whilst exploring the old castle, even if you did not find exactly what you were seeking. Luna is especially pleased that much of her protective enchantments have persisted and allowed so many books to survive the ravages of time.

However, I believe that you are mistaken in the identification of that journal you found. Sometime after we abandoned Everfree, I came back specifically to retrieve it and have kept it in Canterlot ever since. I have just returned from inspecting the vault and can confirm that whatever you found most certainly could not be our journal.

Regardless, I am sure that it is something of value, since you had found it in Luna’s secret reading room. I wish you luck in discovering many more treasures of the past should you endeavour to explore the castle further.

Yours truly,

Princess Celestia

“Um, are you okay?” asked Spike.

Twilight realised that her jaw was hanging and quickly rectified it before thrusting the scroll at the puzzled dragon. Then, without further ado, she stomped straight into the secret room.

“No. Way. Somepony’s pulling our tails, I’m sure of it!” she groused. “If Discord is messing around again, I’m going to—Eek!”

She leapt backwards when her hooves sank into something squelchy. An acrid stench assaulted her nostrils at the same time, and she hastily took several steps backward as she swiftly performed a cleansing spell on her hooves. When the last drop of stinking filth was gone, she redirected the magic into her light spell to pierce the darkness in her immediate vicinity.

“What in the—”

The words died on her lips as she beheld the ruins of the secret chamber. Nearly every inch of marble and mortar was cracked or blemished in some way, and there was a sizeable hole near the top of the wall that was almost large enough for a dog to squeeze through. A gnarled root had apparently burst in through that crack, run down the wall and branched off in all directions over the floor, which was covered in a thick layer of guano. The bookshelves were sagging with rot and moisture, and the volumes even had mushrooms sprouting from their cracked spines. To top it all off, there was a tree growing out of a small fissure in the middle of the room, right where the bookstand and pedestal were supposed to be. Its dead, twisted branches were covered in spider webs and bat filth. The journal was nowhere to be seen.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Twilight murmured as she abruptly sat on her haunches. “There’s no way it could’ve gotten this bad in twenty-four hours. Think, Spike. Did we find the wrong place?”

The little dragon shook his head as he handed the scroll back to her. “I don’t think so. But if this really is the room we saw that time, I’d like to vote for a tactical retreat. Maybe the Tree of Harmony missed some of the super weeds?”

“Unlikely. These look like typical Everfree plant life.” Twilight stuffed the scroll into her saddlebags and used magic to deposit him on her back. “Come on. Let’s take a quick look around to make sure. Maybe there’s more than one secret room.”

But after a quick gallop around the library, Twilight had to admit that there were absolutely no other chairs that functioned as secret levers. None of the arrangements of shelves that matched this one had yielded to her magic when she tried to force them apart. And to make things worse, she somehow got the feeling that there were fewer intact books lying about the place than on her first visit. Sagging in defeat, she shook her head and said, “I don’t understand. We were right here two days ago!”

“Maybe we should leave. Now.” Spike was shivering as he clung on to her.

“There’s one last thing I need to check.” Twilight flexed her wings and crouched low, ready to leap. “Hang on.”

“Whoa!”

Startled by his outburst, Twilight turned round and cried, “What, what?”

A huge spider came sailing towards her face, and she was only just able to whip her head aside and out of its collision course. It bounced off the floor and skittered away soon after. When she turned back to Spike, he was busily dusting off his shoulder as if it had been hit by something particularly dirty.

“I hate those things,” he muttered. “Sorry I almost hit you with it.”

Twilight grunted in response and leaped into the air. This day just keeps getting better and better. She took a moment to gain her bearings, then made a beeline for the great hall. She remembered Rarity’s efforts to restore the tapestry. If there was anything that should have remained from their visit, that should’ve been it.

“Twilight, I don’t like this. Can we please go home?” Spike pleaded when they reached their destination.

She had no words left. She hovered close to the tapestry, going over every inch of it. But no matter how hard she looked, it bore no signs of repair. She distinctly remembered helping Rarity set it back into its proper place after sewing it up, but all evidence pointed to the contrary. It was damp, mouldy and torn in several places. She was dimly aware of Spike saying something else, but she temporarily filtered him out as she attempted to make a magical sweep of the castle. Her scan revealed many enchantments in the area, the bulk of which were meant to preserve the books in the library. There were several others strewn about, probably for the prevention of rust to ensure that the secret doors and whatnot still remained functional. But she could find nothing to account for the nonsensical change in the castle itself – the reversal of Rarity’s restoration, the missing journal, the ruined secret chamber, none of them.

A sudden shift in her balance disrupted her train of thought, and her blood froze when she saw her brother plummeting to the floor. Instinct took over; there was a bright flash, followed by a split-second of blackness before the world popped back into existence. She stretched her forelegs out and was just able to catch him before his head struck the stone floor.

“Oh no, are you okay? Spike!”

The little dragon was unconscious.

Twilight gently laid him on the ground and proceeded with a quick examination of his vitals.

Pulse is fine. Breathing is quicker than normal, but not too shallow. No fever. A little cool, actually, but still within acceptable range. No apparent injuries. She calmed down a notch when she determined that his life wasn’t in immediate danger.

“Spike?” She nudged him gently. All she got in response was a sound that could barely be interpreted as a murmur. After a moment’s thought, she risked a light slap to his cheek, but he did not even stir. Finally, she retrieved a ruby from her pack that she’d been saving for his snack later on and dangled it in front of his nostrils, but even that failed to get a reaction out of him. He was out cold.

Twilight desperately wanted to fly him back to Ponyville and get help, but she could not take the risk yet. Moving him in such a state without ascertaining the cause might very well worsen his condition. She racked her brain for an explanation, but she kept drawing blanks for the next minute or so.

And then something occurred to her. Upon closer inspection, she discovered a little bit of swelling on his shoulder, along with two little flushed dots on his skin between the scales that looked like puncture wounds.

Spider.

Spike had swatted a spider off his shoulder back in the library. She remembered Fluttershy broaching on the topic during their stay the night before, and quickly rifled through her recently acquired knowledge on the species.

Acantharachne Stellarus. Commonly known as the Star Spider. Seasonally widespread throughout the Everfree Forest. Characterised by the bright blue starburst on its abdomen and unique arrangement of six eyes. Its venom, although not lethal to creatures larger than a sparrow, is mildly hallucinogenic in large amounts and is sometimes used to that effect in zebra alchemy. Other immediate effects include heightened awareness, hysteria and vulnerability to suggestion. They typically do not bite unless somepony wanders too close to a nest during the breeding season.

Twilight stared at the unconscious dragon and frowned. His symptoms didn’t quite match up to those of the victims of star spiders. Going by the textbooks, at this point he should have been panicking rather than sleeping. As she pondered on the inconsistency, she noticed that Spike’s eyes were roving around in their sockets. Pulling up one of his eyelids revealed that they were indeed very active; he was clearly dreaming, and exposing his eye did not cause him to wake.

What could be causing this?

She began to trot in a circle protectively around Spike as she thought on the matter, oblivious to the raindrops pattering into the hall through cracks in the ceiling.

If it’s not biological or physical trauma, could it be… magical?

After all that she’d seen, arcane booby-traps suddenly did not seem outside the realm of possibility. If not set up by the Royal Sisters, then perhaps by any number of trespassers in the intervening centuries, farfetched though it seemed.

Twilight forced herself to sit still by Spike’s side, and then she closed her eyes and filtered out the sound of the rain and insects. Soon enough, she was struck by the pervasive sense of wrongness that Spike had mentioned upon their entry into the castle. There were sounds that just might have been voices if she listened hard enough, although she was sure that the ‘sound’ was actually inside her head rather than auditory. Even though she had her eyes closed, she kept envisioning the faintest outlines of winding corridors and dim halls at the edge of her thoughts. Whenever she tried to focus on them, they would simply slip away like eels.

Something clattered in the great hall, shattering her meditative state. Her hackles rose as she listened for the intruder, but there was no further sign of it. There was just the rain and dull throb of thunder in the distance.

“Who—who’s there?” she called out in a shaky voice.

She thought she heard a door creak.

Her heart rate shot up when a shadow at the corner of her eyes moved.

Spike was right. I should have listened to him.

Twilight was on the verge of tears as she curled up next to Spike on the cold floor. She had messed up. She’d been selfish in hurrying back for that journal. Now her brother was in trouble and she did not have an inkling of what to do. All that power as a princess, and she didn’t know what to do with it.

Lightning flashed in the sky, and she sat bolt upright when thunder reverberated through the castle. It was just enough to shake her out of the funk that she’d been sinking into. She shook her head vigorously and snorted.

Some princess you are. Clear your head. Think!

If no single factor could explain his condition, then what about a combination of them? There was definitely something arcane at work in the castle; it was just beneath her ability to effectively perceive it. But if she used star spider venom to heighten her awareness… It was worth a shot.

Twilight carefully lifted Spike with magic and carried him up to a sheltered alcove on the upper levels of the library, overlooking the main aisles. It was dry in there, and she made certain to clear away any webs, insects and vegetative matter that might do him harm. After placing him in the warmest spot she could find, she darted back to the ground floor of the library and plucked a star spider from its nest. She then levitated it up all the way back to the alcove.

“I’m really going to do this, aren’t I?” she said aloud.

She was out of options. If Spike’s unconsciousness was the result of magic, the consequences of moving him away from its source ranged from complete recovery to irreparable brain damage. She could not risk that. Going back for help was out of the question as well. She might’ve been strong enough to teleport home one way, but she could not be sure of repeating the feat reliably a second time. And she could not bear to leave him alone for the time it would take her to fly back. When they got out of this mess, she fully intended to master sending letters by magic the way Celestia did.

Here goes. For Spike. And Knowledge.

Twilight shook the spider to get it sufficiently agitated, then placed it on the skin of her fetlock. The nip was barely perceptible.

That might explain why he didn’t say anything about a bite.

After releasing the spider on the level below, she flew back up to the balcony, sat down and waited for the venom to take effect.

She didn’t have to wait long. Within a couple of minutes, she found that her vision was fragmenting. The alcove was still visible, but it was as if there was another room overlapping it – a shadowy, indistinct one. She blinked rapidly, but the double vision did not clear away. If anything, it got worse. The two were growing increasingly difficult to differentiate in terms of tangibility, and she belatedly thought that she probably should have gotten to a safer spot before poisoning herself.

Twilight groaned and swayed as she rose and staggered towards Spike. It was hard to tell whether walking straight would send her tumbling over the balcony or crashing nose-first into a wall.

Yet, in the midst of her discomfort, she had just enough coherent thought to realise that the experience was strangely familiar.

There’s that déjà vu again…

Echoes of voices rang in her ears, competing with the rain and thunder for her attention. She flattened her ears and covered them with her hooves, but that did not help at all. She could smell the dank stone of the library, but there was also the scent of smoke and candlewax wafting around. And the magic… now that she could fully perceive it, the magic in the air was smothering her. It was like drowning in honey and cider.

A choked cry escaped her as she crawled to Spike’s side. The sensory overload was threatening to make her breakfast surge back out, but she managed to keep it down just long enough to collapse next to her brother. And then everything became bright light...

Chapter 2

“Twilight, that wasn’t funny.”

“What—huh?”

“Where were you? I saw you going round a corner, and then you were gone. I was running around the place for five minutes!” There was an edge in the disembodied voice that she didn’t like.

Twilight squinted and saw a purple-green blob in front of her. She shook her head, and said blob sharpened into Spike, who was fiddling with his tail as he glanced nervously around the place.

“Spike, you’re not hurt!” she cried in relief.

The dragon blinked in surprise, fear momentarily forgotten. “Umm, yeah, I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”

It was her turn to blink. She scratched her mane and frowned. “You know, I’m not sure why I said that.” There was something itching at the back of her mind – something important – but she couldn’t recall what exactly. It really was like one of those moments when she walked in somewhere, completely intent on something, only to suddenly realise that she’d forgotten what she was up to.

Spike shrugged. “Okay, never mind. Can we just get the diary and go home? This place is giving me the creeps again.”

“Yeah…”

Twilight trotted off briskly. She was inclined to be a little annoyed at how Spike was practically clinging to her hind leg, but she had to admit that she wasn’t faring much better herself. The hairs on the back of her neck constantly tingling and she couldn’t shake off the feeling that they were being watched. There were far too many shadows in the castle for her liking, more than the inanimate objects should have been able to account for.

Luckily, the secret chamber was still open, and it only took them less than a minute to find the journal hidden amongst the resplendent cushions.

“Sweet! We can go home now, right?” Spike queried.

Twilight didn’t answer. She was too busy staring at the journal. After slowly brushing a hoof over its pristine cover, she began flipping through the pages. The entries belonged to the Royal Sisters; she recognised Celestia’s writing. It apparently hadn’t changed very much in the last thousand years. But there was something very contradictory about her holding the volume in her hooves. A memory came to her, unbidden and fragmented…

—you are mistaken… kept it in Canterlot ever since... whatever you found most certainly could not be our journal.

She set the journal back to its original place on the pedestal and trotted around the circular chamber. The carpet was wonderfully thick and fluffy, and the solid marble walls were whole and reasonably shiny, given their age. The richly coloured curtains had seen better days, but they looked like they were only a few stitches and a good wash away from being restored to their former glory. It was all so… wrong.

“Spike.”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me what you think about the journal.”

He raised an eye ridge. “Okay, you’re acting a little weird.”

Twilight levitated the journal before him. “That’s the thing. We both are, I think. Just hear me out.”

Without wasting another moment, she recited the words regarding the journal that had given her pause about the oddity of the whole situation, and then pointed out the relatively good condition of the secret chamber. Spike’s expression was sceptical at first, but by the time she’d finished, he appeared to be thinking very hard.

“You know, that does sound a bit off,” he remarked as he examined the journal. “What you just said is kind of convincing, wherever you got that idea from.”

“Well, we’ll hold on to it for the time being,” she replied, slipping it into her saddlebag and sweeping her gaze around the room one last time before trotting back into the library proper. “Let’s explore a little. Maybe we’ll find more clues.”

“Do we really have to?” Spike was fidgeting again. “I know you want to have a look at all the books, but I just don’t feel so good sticking around here.”

There was no mistaking it. Something had spooked the little dragon, and although Twilight did not fancy keeping him in a state of agitation, there was something about the castle that kept her from agreeing to his request to leave immediately. It was surely something important enough to warrant a little discomfort on both of their parts, although she had yet to imagine what exactly that was.

“Well, I could drop you back home and come back here to finish investigating, if you really wanted,” Twilight suggested thoughtfully. She then smiled and added, “But it would be great if I could have my Number One Assistant by my side. There’s quite a lot of ground to cover in here.”

Spike’s nervousness was temporarily replaced with a suspicious frown. “Hang on. Are you trying to coerce me into doing something I don’t want to?” he asked with both hands at his hips.

Twilight responded with a frown of her own at his apparent misunderstanding. “Are you sure you know what that word means? Coercion is the act of using force or intimidation to obtain compliance. What I’m doing is nothing like that; it’s more like emotional manipulation than—”

Her frown wilted as she began processing her own words, and she hastily attempted to make amends and deny it at the same time, which resulted in one of her most eloquent and refined sentences to date. “Wait. No—I’m not manipulating you, I’m sorry, it was more of encouragement, really. I—”

She slumped when he folded his arms and his frown twisted into a knowing grin. “Okay, I’ll stop. I’m sorry for that.”

He giggled. “Rarity’s been rubbing off on you.”

Twilight blinked. “She has?”

Spike nodded with the smug grin still plastered to his face. “Oh ho, yes. I know coercion or emotional whatever when I see it – that’s what Sweetie Belle calls it, by the way – Rarity uses it on me all the time when she wants my help.”

“Oh…” Twilight bit her lip. “All the time? You let her?”

The little dragon clasped his hands together and practically twirled on the spot with a far-off, wistful look in his eyes. “Because she’s worth it…” And then, before Twilight could formulate a response to the odd direction their conversation had taken, he suddenly shed all of that romanticism and said, “Anyways, I’ll stay with you.” He then puffed up his chest and released a sharp breath as if steeling himself for a long haul and added, “You’re not exploring this creepy castle without backup, and I guess it’s gonna have to be me.”

He was putting up a brave front, Twilight could see that much. But he was doing it for her sake, and she felt a prick of guilt that she was still kind of responsible for dragging him into this. She pulled him close for a hug, resolving to make it up to him once they’d finished their business in the library. “Thanks Spike. I promise we won’t stay any longer than we have to.”

Spike nodded. “Uh huh. Where do we begin?”

Twilight selected one corner of the library, and they systematically went through the rows of stone bookshelves. She had no idea what to look for exactly, but she was sure that she would know it when she saw it. In the meantime, she reasoned that it wouldn’t hurt to carry on with her original task of cataloguing and retrieving several volumes for further study and preservation; she was certain that a few of them were to be found nowhere else in Equestria, and if so, making copies was imperative before they were lost to time.

She did keep a close eye on Spike as they searched row after row. He would bring her an interesting item for inspection every now and then, and with every title she added to her list of volumes to be cross-referenced with inventories of libraries all over Equestria, she felt increasingly uneasy at the fact that she would have to leave behind the vast majority of ancient volumes she came across. It was almost enough to make her consider simply issuing a decree – no, a request – for help from the folks back at Ponyville in taking as many of the priceless volumes as possible for safekeeping.

No, no need for that, she chided herself. This is just a preliminary search. Once you’ve determined what lies here, you can calculate the logistics of securing them all more accurately, and through official channels, no less. They’ve survived for a thousand years. A few more days shouldn’t hurt them.

By the time they’d completed a quarter of the western wing of the library, Twilight realised with growing dismay that at this rate, she’d be out of paper before they could even finish half of the library. There were so many titles by authors that she did not recognise. As the minutes ticked away and her supply of blank pages dwindled, she found herself skipping past more and more unfamiliar volumes and reserving her attention only for the most intriguing ones in order to save time. So far, she’d only allowed the Royal Sisters’ journal, The Botanicum Arcana and a scroll casing containing an anonymous author’s dissertation on the ethics of alicorn leadership into her saddlebags, and even then, her instincts were crying out in anguish for the salvation of those volumes that she had to leave behind.

Goodness, why am I being so melodramatic?

Twilight shook her head and filed the thought away for later. By her reckoning, their search had already taken up nearly two hours and was bound to need more than twice that again for completion, even if she cut corners. She had a job to do, and she wanted to finish it before dark.

No, that’s not why I’m here…

She stopped in her tracks, frowning. Spike continued ahead, oblivious to her sudden halt, but she was too puzzled by that intruding thought to pay him any further heed. Slowly, she opened her saddlebag and drew out the journal.

I came back for this, and maybe a couple of other things. I promised Spike we would leave when we’re done. Then why in the world am I trying to make a catalogue? This was just supposed to be a quick pick-up and not an all-day thing. I just needed to get the journal because I forgot to take it home last time…

Her fetlock itched, and she scratched at it absentmindedly with her other hoof as she pondered on the issue. There was that bothersome uneasiness about the journal again. She flipped through its pages, but nothing clued her in on why it was causing her so much concern. She was certain that she had forgotten something, but it remained infuriatingly just beyond her ability to recall.

With a mental groan, Twilight sat down and turned her attention to her surroundings for a change of pace. The light pouring in from the grand clerestory windows was a cool blue, indicating that it was almost evening. The shadows cast by the great bookshelves were long and forlorn, and Twilight hoped that Spike would not be too unsettled by the idea of spending another night in the castle. Thankfully, she spotted a candelabrum topped with several candles near full length sitting on a table in the distance. Its light was a welcome warmness in the growing darkness, and—

Twilight’s hair stood on end, and she nearly sprained her neck with the speed at which she twisted around to look out the window again. She was just in time to spot the last rays of the sun as it sank below the horizon.

That’s… that’s impossible…

How could it be night already? They’d barely spent more than a few hours in the castle! Unless Princess Celestia was breaking tradition and lowering the sun early for some reason, there was absolutely no way she could have lost track of time so badly. And even if she had done so, Spike would have been sure to remind her!

Even so, no amount of reasoning allowed her to deny the fact that it was night. The darkness had come, and she instinctively gravitated towards the candelabrum as the only source of light left in the library. She reached out with her magic to bring it over, and that was when another thought struck her.

There was no way candles could have survived for a thousand years in pristine condition, and the thought of enchanting them just for that purpose seemed completely inane. And… who lit those candles? Her magic faltered, and she found herself simply staring at them like a moth drawn to a lamp. She thought she felt a cold draft, but maybe that was just a chill working its way through her spine and nervous system.

“Twilight, I don’t like this. Can we please go home?” She was beginning to agree with the memory of Spike’s sentiment. They needed to leave immediately.

“Spike! Where are you?” she called out, failing to keep the panicky edge out of her voice.

A sharp hiss behind Twilight made her jump and whirl around in fright, but she managed to regain her composure somewhat when she saw that it was just Spike peeping from around the corner of a bookshelf. She was about to sigh in relief and tell him that they were about to leave, but he motioned for silence, then glanced back over his shoulder and beckoned her over. Fear warred with her curiosity for a moment, but the latter soon won when Spike went ahead of his own accord. With her heart thumping loudly in her chest, she took a moment to cast a muffling spell on her hooves and then trotted after him.

Spike could be rather stealthy when he wanted to, she noted silently as he crawled on all fours along the aisle like a lizard. Before long, she saw the cause for his concern; there was greenish light coming from around the corner. The gentle clip clop of hooves became audible as they approached the corner, and Twilight glimpsed a vaguely pony-like shadow through the gaps in the rows of books on the shelves.

There was somepony else in the library. Slowly, they edged closer to the corner of the bookshelf and peeped around it.

It was a unicorn mare. She had her back to them and appeared to be occupied with arranging a few volumes along several rows. From what Twilight could see, she had a pale grey coat, and her mane and tail were a bright turquoise in colour; the former braided and long enough to reach down to her chest; the latter left loose but cropped to knee-length. Her horn protruded neatly from her forelock. An open scroll floated by her side, glowing in her magical grip, and every few seconds, she would consult it and murmur softly to herself before returning her attention to the books.

They carried on watching from gaps in the rows of books as the mare went about her business, seemingly oblivious to their presence. She came close to looking directly at them several times, during which they quickly retreated further into the shadows.

At length, the mare concluded her business and began trotting off sedately. Twilight and Spike managed to tail her from a safe distance, all the way to a little room in the eastern wing that they’d missed on their previous visit and had yet to reach on their current search. The entrance was hidden behind a collapsed shelf and some stone debris. An ornate writing desk sat in the middle of the room, and several lamps hanging about the place gave it a rather warm appearance. Twilight suddenly felt a pang of longing for the comfort of Golden Oaks Library back in Ponyville.

The unicorn took her seat at the desk, facing to the side, and quickly began scribbling away at something. From the looks of it, she wasn’t going anywhere for quite a while.

After mulling it over for a moment, Twilight decided that it was probably safe to take the direct approach and find out what the mare was up to. She couldn’t be a looter because there was no reason for one to actually linger in the place, much less do work work on the articles of interest. Judging by her pose and diligent outlook as she worked, it was highly unlikely that she was some hooligan scribbling graffiti on priceless artefacts either. An archaeologist, maybe? She might be taking notes on some of the volumes she’d found, which Twilight herself would have done if she’d taken them back to Ponyville for research. At least, she hoped that that was the case. If the mare was actually scribbling on the old books…

She took a step forward and felt Spike’s hand on her foreleg. He did not say a word, but his wide eyes and firm touch were impossible to misinterpret. She placed a hoof reassuringly on his shoulder and nodded.

Yes, we’ll be careful.

They approached the unicorn cautiously, but to Twilight’s surprise, the unicorn gave no indication of having heard them, even though she’d removed the sound dampening spell on her hooves. Twilight just stopped short of entering the room, thinking that the last thing she wanted to do was to startle the mare when she might very well be working on ancient texts. She would never be able to forgive herself if any of the materials met with an unfortunate accident.

“Umm… Hello.”

The mare did not answer; she continued working as if she hadn’t heard at all.

Twilight cleared her throat discreetly and raised her voice a little. “Hi there. I’m Twilight Sparkle, and this is Spike.”

Incessant scribbling was the only answer to her introduction, which did irritate her a bit since there was absolutely no way that the mare hadn’t heard her.

Maybe it’s time to exercise a little of that royal authority.

“Excuse me, what are you doing here?” she asked, more sharply this time as she trotted into the room. “This castle has been abandoned for centuries. And—” She paused as her eyes fell on the open book and parchment on the writing desk. From the looks of it, the unicorn was transcribing one of the ancient texts, and there were piles of other books on the table next to the desk. Stunned, she swept her gaze over the room’s cosy interior. The walls were lined with glass-doored, shoulder-height cupboards filled with what Twilight surmised were stacks and stacks of scroll casings and writing tools. Unused lamps, candles, parchment rolls, quills, inkwells and a whole assortment of ornaments such as silver figurines, wood carvings and even a griffon skull were neatly arranged on top of the cupboards.

Maybe she’s the one who placed and lit those candles. Huh, come to think of it, maybe she did the same for those candles we found two days ago. Does that count as stealing? I wouldn’t have expected anypony to own those! But why didn’t I—

“Umm, Twi?” asked Spike.

Twilight immediately halted her train of thought and found that the grey unicorn was staring at them surprise. Gathering her wits, she finally managed to finish her sentence, albeit rather lamely. “—it looks like you live here.”

“The royal library is closed for refurbishment,” the grey unicorn replied, waving a hoof dismissively. “Until it is complete, only the Royal Sisters or their appointed scribes may enter. Please leave now.”

That’s a rather unusual accent.

“Actually, we just want to—” Twilight stopped and stared slack-jawed when she’d fully processed what she’d heard. She glanced back into the main section of the library to make sure that she hadn’t imagined the ruined ceiling that had suffered the wrath of Princess Luna’s devastating magic when she’d attacked Celestia. Closed for refurbishment? Royal Sisters? The absurdity of the mare’s statement boggled her mind.

“That’s some renovation,” Spike quipped, jumping in where she’d left off. “What’s really going on in here?”

Twilight decided to ignore the mare’s previous statement and focus on gathering information first. “What exactly are you doing here? We just came here from Ponyville, and I wasn’t aware of any archaeological activity in the castle of Everfree. Did the princesses give you permission to—”

“Wait, is Ponyville a town or village? Where is it?” asked the mare. Her bored and dismissive attitude had suddenly been replaced with earnest curiosity.

Twilight blinked. How could anypony venturing into the Everfree not know about Ponyville? It was pretty much the last stop for supplies for anypony who planned to conduct studies or any other activities in the enchanted forest. “Well, it’s on the edge of the forest, northwest of here,” she replied, “but what does that—”

“Oh, you are visitors. My apologies, then,” the grey unicorn interrupted. Her face lit up with a warm, friendly smile as she got up from her seat and trotted over to Twilight. “I had mistaken you for somepony else. Allow me to make amends.” She went past them and beckoned them out the doorway.

After looking at each other in confusion, Twilight and Spike followed her back into the library proper.

Still beaming at them, the unicorn made a sweeping gesture with one foreleg to the vastness of the library and proclaimed, “As their Royal Highnesses’ Librarian, I welcome you to the finest library in all of Equestria! Once again, I do apologise for my rudeness; it was most unbecoming. Might I have your name again?”

“I’m Twilight Sparkle,” Twilight automatically replied as she stalled for time to figure out what was going on.

“The pleasure is mine, my dear. For all its grandeur, this place receives far too few visitors. Your presence is most welcome!” The supposed librarian beamed and added, “So, how may I assist you? Is there anything in particular that you would like to read?”

“Umm, I think I saw a copy of Sun Zoom’s Art of Soar somewhere…”

“Ah, that would be right this way, Miss Sparkle. Follow me.”

As the mare gaily trotted off, Twilight felt Spike poke her shoulder. Turning, she saw him give her a questioning look, followed by a tilt of his head in the unicorn’s direction and his claw making a swirling motion by the side of his head. She could almost hear the cuckoo clock sound effect accompanying his actions.

“Maybe. I don’t know. Let’s just follow and see what happens first. I’ll figure something out...”

He frowned at her. “Are you sure she’s not completely crazy?”

“I didn’t say she’s not, but we shouldn’t make assumptions. Come on, we’re going to lose her.”

In truth, Twilight knew exactly where the Art of Soar was located. She had deliberately picked a title that was in the west wing to buy a little more time. When they caught up with the mare, she had come up with a few questions that could be used to glean a little more information on her state of mind. But she still needed a little more time to frame them in a way that wouldn’t sound like she suspected her of insanity, so she trotted along in silence as the unicorn whistled a whimsical tune. Twilight silently noted that her cutie mark was a spiralling swirl of stardust that matched the colour of her green magic.

Along the way, the grey unicorn flared her horn, and a glowing lamp enshrouded in a green aura floated over to them from a nearby table, which heightened Twilight’s suspicions. She was certain that she’d passed that table before, and she did not recall having seen anything of note on it, least of all a working source of light.

“Is there anypony else in here with you?” she asked.

“Ah, I’m afraid not. Few ponies frequent the library at such an hour.”

“Oh...” Then where did that lamp come from?

The unicorn eyed Spike as they walked and added, “That is a most impressive familiar you have there. I trust he knows to be careful with his flame in here?”

Her little brother looked torn between being proud of being called impressive and annoyed at her implication that he was a pet of some sort. “The ‘familiar’ has a name, thank you very much,” he murmured.

Twilight patted him on the shoulder and replied, “Yes, Spike has plenty of experience working in a library. You have nothing to worry about.”

By the time they were at the appropriate bookshelf, Twilight was more or less ready to begin probing for information. The grey unicorn passed her the requested volume, saying, “Ah, this book has been the favourite of many a pegasus. I have read it twice myself, and I do hope that you find it as fascinating as I did. Is there anything else you require, Miss Sparkle?”

Twilight put on a friendly smile. “I’d like to know a little more about you, actually.”

“Oh?”

“I might’ve missed it, but I don’t think I got your name.”

The grey unicorn opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. The seconds stretched into an awkward silence as her ears drooped and her smile slipped away.

Ookay… sensitive topic, maybe. Let’s try something else. “How long have you been working here?”

The mare’s relief was palpable. Her smile didn’t return, but she was able to at least tentatively reply, “For, well… as long as I can remember. The tedium seldom bothers me,” here, the sides of her mouth curled up in a shadow of her former smile, “and it is always a joy to learn anew what I have forgotten.”

That still doesn’t tell us much…

“Err… Who gave you this job?”

“I was appointed by their Royal Highnesses, of course.”

“Oh. I see.” That’s impossible. I’m sure I would’ve heard of it!

“Well, I do hope you find it a good read. If there is anything else you require, you know where to find me.” With that, the grey unicorn placed the lamp onto a nearby table and left them be. Twilight noted that her steps were a little on the hasty side of things, and suspected that she was still a little unsettled by her impromptu line of questioning.

“Yeah, sounds like she’s a crazy hobo.”

Twilight gasped at his deadpan remark. “Spike!”

He gave her an innocent look and shrugged. “What? Is it wrong if it’s true?”

“Yes! It still isn’t a nice thing to say.”

“Okay, okay.” Spike made a placating gesture with both hands. “But I still think she’s had too much cider or something.”

“Well, I don’t know…”

“One: she thinks that the library is open for business,” Spike stuck up one claw in emphasis, followed by another as he counted off his points, “Two: she thinks she’s actually hired by the princesses to do that. And three: did you see the way she freaked out when you asked for her name?”

Twilight conceded that he did have a point. The odds of the unicorn being in a mentally balanced state weren’t stacked in her favour at the moment. After putting the Art of Soar back in its place, she began pacing as she pondered aloud on the matter. “All right, maybe she’s a little confused, but things still don’t add up. I saw her calligraphy back there; it’s comparable to some of the best I’ve seen in Canterlot Library, and that’s saying something. If anypony told me she was a world-class scholar, I’d believe it. Maybe she came here to help transcribe the books for future studies – I was going to ask Celestia for permission to do that myself – but if that was the case, I’m sure Celestia would’ve told me about it, and even if she’s doing it in secret, why would she cook up such a crazy story? It doesn’t make any sense, unless she’s really a delusional homeless pony who somehow got past everything in the Everfree Forest to camp out in an ancient ruin, in which case she’s the most educated and talented one I’ve ever—”

“Maybe she’s a changeling?” Spike suggested.

“What? How’d you come to that conclusion?”

“Her magic’s green.”

“That’s not proof enough; some unicorns have green auras too. We can’t just assume that they’re all changelings. Besides, I’m sure that a real changeling would’ve come up with a better story than that.” She tried to chuckle at the idea, but it only came out as a weak laugh that completely failed to convince him.

“You could just hit her with that anti-disguise spell you used back at the wedding. If she’s not a changeling, no harm done,” he countered.

Twilight bristled at the thought. “I can’t do that, Spike. It’s an invasion of privacy. It’s incredibly discriminatory. Can you imagine how unfair it would be to certain ponies if they had to be checked everywhere they went just to see if they were love-eating doppelgangers, just because their auras were green in colour?”

“Well, if she does make a complaint against you, you can argue mitigating circumstances, right? Desperate measures and all that? I mean, you’re a princess, and she’s kind of trespassing on royal property, right? And she’s acting really suspicious too.”

Wow, he’s really busting out the big words today, isn’t he?

Although there was some truth to his words, Twilight could not give assent. She was lucky to have correctly suspected that something was amiss back at the wedding, but nopony was perfect, and she could not count on being right every time she got suspicious about something. It was awful to think about the mess she would’ve made if her assertions back then had turned out to be false, and could very well be this time, especially with such a flimsy correlation as the green colour of the unicorn’s magic.

So she shook her head and said, “Maybe I can, but I won’t. Not until I have more evidence. The last thing I want is to become a paranoid royal pain in the flank who distrusts ponies at the drop of a hat.”

Spike sighed in exasperation. “All right, but that means we still have a problem. So what do we do now?”

Twilight snatched a bit of paper from her notebook and began scribbling away. “I’m writing to Celestia. I’m sure that she would give us a quick answer to something unusual like this. At the very least, we can check if she had really sent this mare to the castle to be its ‘librarian’.”

After a quick proofread, Spike took the sheet and breathed on it, at which point it promptly burst into flames and drifted to the floor as a miniature cascade of black ash. Stunned, Twilight could only gape as a mushroom cloud of smoke floated up into the darkness above.

“Err, it wasn’t supposed to do that,” Spike eventually pointed out.

“Let’s try that again.”

After penning another quick note to the princess, it became apparent that something was wrong with Spike’s flaming. The second one was consumed by his fire as well.

“Maybe there’s a ward in here that’s blocking the spell.” She spread her wings and crouched low. “Hop on. We’ll give it another go outside the castle grounds.”

Once airborne, she cast a nervous glance back in the direction that the strange unicorn had gone. She did not like the idea of leaving her alone with hundreds if not thousands of ancient books, but she took solace in the probability that the mare had been here for quite some time, and had yet to do any apparent harm to the library and its precious contents.

Twilight took a deep breath of relief as she soared out into the cool, open air, away from the castle’s imposing spires and the confinement of its cold, dark walls. The night landscape was bathed in silvery moonlight, and she made a mental note to thank Luna when she got the chance. It was a very welcome alternative to total darkness. Spike voiced his concern over the fact that it had somehow become night in only the space of a few hours, and she had little choice but to confess that she too was at a total loss as to how that had happened.

After taking her bearings, she directed her flight path towards a clearing at the edge of the forest, but they had barely crossed the ravine that surrounded the ancient castle before she felt something like whiplash followed by a disorienting wave of vertigo. She lost synchrony in her wing beats and dipped a dozen tail lengths or so before she corrected her rhythm.

“Whoa, what was that?” Spike asked as he clung to her tightly.

Twilight was just about to ask him if he was all right when she noticed that she was flying towards the castle. “That’s odd. I don’t remember turning around.”

“You didn’t. We were flying away, and suddenly there was that weird twisty feeling and then we’re facing the wrong way.”

“Hmm…” Twilight whirled around and attempted another escape, and she was rewarded with the same abrupt change in direction. She was ready for it this time, and was able to perceive the root of the problem in the split second before her trajectory was forcefully altered; there was a spatial warping effect around the castle grounds. After focusing on a point beyond the boundary and attempting a teleport spell, she noticed that there simply wasn’t any space beyond the confines of the castle grounds. The view was just an illusion, which would explain why Spike’s magical fire wasn’t working properly.

Keeping her wing beats in rhythm became a lot harder as she fought a pervasive sense of claustrophobia. They were trapped, somehow. Add that to the strange unicorn, the unexplained appearance of lit candles around the library and extra early night, and the result was her faltering courage and trust in her ability to get them out of this fix.

“You sure this isn’t another one of Discord’s tricks?” Spike asked. “It looks totally like his style.”

Twilight ground her teeth. “I… I just don’t know, Spike.”

He began saying something else, but she didn’t quite hear it. The gentle night breeze was picking up speed and biting through her coat, but the chill that she felt went much deeper than that. There was something terribly wrong with the castle. The shadows looked a little too long for the angle of light from the moon, and she thought she could see dark shapes churning in the ruins. She hesitated to consider the Pony of Shadows a possibility, but after all the things that she’d seen…

“— didn’t hear a thing I said, did you?” Spike’s accusing tone cut through her thoughts.

She shuddered and rubbed her forelegs together in an attempt to bring back some warmth into them. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little… scared. I don’t know what’s going on right now.”

He was silent for a moment, but eventually said, “Yeah, I know that feeling...”

Twilight turned her head and saw that his expression held no resentment or spite, just brotherly love. Now that she was feeling the kind of uneasiness that he had been complaining about earlier and had bravely put aside for her sake, she felt guilty because it should have been the other way around. She should have comforted him back then rather than drag things out.

“I’m sorry, I—”

Spike gave her a sympathetic smile and waved aside her apology. “Nah, don’t worry about it. Let’s just concentrate on finding a way out of here. We can get all touchy and feely after we’re out of Creepy Castle.”

“Right.” She released a heavy breath and began gliding back towards the castle library. The wind was moaning as it passed through the passages, windows and other openings that had resulted from collapsed stonework, and whatever instinct she had was telling her not to go back in there.

But we have to, she tried to reason with herself. It may be our only chance at finding a way out. And that mare might know something about it.

Spike was clinging to her back a little more tightly than was necessary as she descended through the gap in the library’s ruined ceiling. She didn’t complain, though. His warm embrace gave her a sense of security that she hadn’t realised she’d wanted and needed badly. It helped to soothe her frayed nerves and allay her more irrational fears. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she felt a sense of déjà vu that this was something that she should have thought of sooner. It was almost as if…

It’s good to know that whenever your imagination is getting away from you, a good friend can help you to rein it in…

She blinked. That thought came out of nowhere, but it seemed awfully relevant to their situation anyhow. It was apparent that she and Spike were going to have to rely on each other to keep their fears in check.

She snorted and squinted when she got a faceful of spider web as she passed under a ruined arch, and she heard Spike sputtering as he wiped at his face.

“Seriously, it’s like they spin their webs exactly where they expect your head to be whenever you go past them,” he muttered as she landed amongst the towering bookshelves. “I hate those things.”

Twilight froze.

I hate those things.

The next thing she knew, Spike was standing in front of her and waving a hand before her eyes. “Hello? Are you okay? You just sort of spaced out.”

She ignored him for the moment and raised her right foreleg. Her fetlock was itching. She then turned to Spike and said, “Any chance that you feel itchy anywhere?”

He raised an eyebrow. “What does that have to d—”

“Please, Spike. I think I’m on to something.”

The little dragon nodded and scratched at his shoulder. “Yeah, a little. Right over here.”

Twilight nodded and swept her gaze around the library. After spotting the place that she was looking for, she levitated Spike onto her back and leaped into the air. The alcove overlooking the main aisles had a dusty writing desk in it as well as several bookshelves half-filled with scroll casings and old tomes. Her little brother watched in silence as she shifted an entire shelf aside to expose the corner that it was placed in. She then trotted into the empty space and ran a hoof gently over the floor, feeling it scrape over every little bump and indentation on the stone’s surface.

Here. We’re supposed to be right here.

She remembered. The star spider’s bite. The underlying current of magic permeating the place. The inconsistencies of the states of the castle between their two visits. No wonder everything seemed wrong; none of what they were experiencing was real!

“Spike, I don’t think we’re in Everfree anymore.”

Chapter 3

Spike frowned. “What do you mean ‘we’re not in Everfree anymore’?”

“What I’m going to say is probably going to sound crazy, but—”

“Can’t be much crazier than what we’ve seen already,” he interjected. “Go for it.”

She paused for a moment to arrange her thoughts and then made a sweeping gesture around the library’s interior. “This place that we’re in – what we’re experiencing right now isn’t real. Well, technically, it is, but it’s more like a pocket of reality that isn’t manifested in the physical world.”

Spike blinked. “Come again?”

“Remember that itch on your shoulder? It’s because you were bitten by a star spider in the library. The real library. You passed out some time after that, and it took me a while to figure out that your affliction was magical in nature. Star spider venom isn’t dangerous to us, and its effects do not include rapid-eye-movement sleep—which was what you were apparently doing, by the way. After doing a bit of testing, I confirmed that there was something a little off about the castle – you were right about that all along, too – that was magical in nature. There’s something… lingering over this place, just a tiny bit below our ordinary level of perception. My theory is that the spider venom, which can cause hypersensitivity to certain stimuli, enabled you to perceive and be affected by whatever power that’s lurking in the castle. I got myself bitten to follow you in.” Here, she showed him her fetlock and scratched at the itch to illustrate her point. “And here we are.”

“So… you’re saying that we’re not actually here, right now? We’re actually dreaming because we got bitten by star spiders?” Spike’s eyes were wide as saucers.

Twilight put a hoof to her chin thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t call it dreaming, per se. We’re obviously interacting, and I don’t think that’s possible unless Princess Luna facilitates a dreamwalking bridge between us. And as I mentioned, the venom couldn’t have made this place spring into existence just like that.”

“Then what’s really—” Spike changed tack in mid-sentence, “Hang on, if you can remember all that, then why can’t I?” He frowned, grinding his teeth in frustration. “I can remember some of the things you said, and they sound kind of right, but they’re all in bits and pieces. Gah! What’s wrong with me?”

“Take it easy.” She patted him on the shoulder. “I had a hard time remembering, too. I’m not entirely sure, but it’s probably a side effect of our entry into this place. It… it feels like astral projection.”

Spike tilted his head.

“An out-of-body experience. It’s similar to what I felt when I drank that potion Zecora gave me, and it also took me a while to figure out that I was seeing only a memory, even though some elements should have made it obvious that it wasn’t real. I also experienced something similar when Princess Celestia took me to the astral realm just before I got my wings. The biggest difference right now is that we’re able to interact directly with this place, the projected environment. It’s like we’re in a fake version of the castle instead of the real thing.”

Spike frowned in thought for a minute or two. Judging by his expression, he finally seemed to be experiencing the revelation that she’d had minutes ago. After a while, he looked at her and said, “I… I think I can get along with that for now. But are you so sure that this version of the palace is fake? It matches up to what I remember when Dash and the others were all here.”

“Maybe we were all bitten at some point. There were a lot of them.”

Spike raised a claw and opened his mouth, but Twilight pre-emptively warded off his scepticism with a shrug. “It’s the best I can come up with at the moment. Statistically improbable, but it’s not impossible. The most important thing right now is to find a way out of this place. Pinching ourselves won’t work; we’ll have to find the source. I just hope that it’s something that we can fix from this side of the projection. If not…”

“Well, we all got out the first time, didn’t we?”

“I’m not sure we can count on that happening a second time.”

A thick silence followed. Spike didn’t want to ask, and she didn’t want to say what they’d do if they couldn’t find a solution. They’d cross that bridge when they got to it.

“Give me a moment.” Twilight lay down and slowed her breathing, easing herself into the meditative state that Zecora had taught her. She attempted another magical sweep of the castle, and gasped when the brilliance of hundreds of threads of arcane energy seared her mental vision; she could feel the rapid onset of a splitting headache every second she remained in that state.

After just a few seconds, she ended the spell and groaned as she rubbed her forehead. The entire structure had registered as a powerful magical anomaly, and an extremely well-crafted one at that. Whoever or whatever had made it was probably on par with some of the best mages in history, unless they’d done it with the aid of a powerful artefact like the Alicorn Amulet…

Despite the implications, Twilight couldn’t help marvelling at the complexity of the projection they inhabited. All of the books she’d picked up had been fully legible and filled with actual writing on legitimate fields of knowledge and Equine Literature. If anypony had been tasked with creating an illusion of a library, she would have expected them to have taken short cuts and filled the vast majority of the volumes with empty pages or meaningless scribbles. After skimming several dozen volumes, she had to admire the time and effort it must have taken to construct a wonderfully detailed environment on such a scale. And that was only the library! To think of how long it must have taken…

Hmm. A very long time.

“Hah!” Spike cheered. “I know that look. What’s the plan?”

Twilight trotted over to the balcony and frowned in the general direction of one particular room at the other end of the library. “I think I know who we have to speak to.” She spread her wings and waved him over. “Hop on.”

“It’s the crazy unicorn, isn’t it?” he asked as she soared over the great bookshelves, towards their destination. “She’s the one behind this?”

“I’m not a hundred percent certain, but if she’s been around for as long as she’s implied, she should know a thing or two about this place. And even if she doesn’t and is trapped here like us, we should at least stick together and find a way out.”

They found the mare back at work transcribing something when they reached the hidden room. She smiled at them as they entered, saying, “Well, that was quick. Is there anything else that you need?”

“Are you familiar with astral projection?” Twilight asked.

The smile on her face faltered for just a moment before she got up from her seat eagerly and replied, “Oh, yes. There are several volumes on the subject that I think you would find most helpful. They are right this way—”

Twilight placed a wing on the grey unicorn’s shoulder and gently held her back. “That won’t be needed. I just need to tell you something.”

The mare seemed taken aback by her abruptness, but recovered quickly and said, “Very well. What is it?”

“This castle that we’re in – it’s just a magical construct. It’s not real. I don’t know how you got in here, but we need to—”

“What?” The mare chuckled and went back to her seat, still smiling. “I have always considered the Royal Sisters’ collection to be wonderfully immersive, but I would never have thought that anypony would take them so seriously.”

Twilight had to blink for a couple of seconds before shaking her head. “No, this isn’t an overactive imagination. We really are stuck here.”

The mare’s pleasant outlook became just a little strained. “Don’t be silly.” She levitated a pair of books off of her work table and passed it to them, saying, “These books, feel them. They are real, are they not? Why would you even say such a thing about their Royal Highnesses’ library?”

“Then explain how the sun set less than an hour ago, when it has only been about six or seven hours since I got up at sunrise,” Twilight challenged, after putting the book back on the table. “Did Princess Celestia mess up her timing?”

“Now, wait, I—”

Sensing a crack in the unicorn’s defence, Twilight pressed her advantage. “You also mentioned that you’re alone in here. Then tell me, who’s been setting up those candles and lamps? I saw a few of them before coming here, and I’m sure that there’s no way you could’ve done it and gotten past us without notice.”

“Maybe she was deliberately hiding?” Spike suggested.

“No!” the mare protested. “Why are you…” she suddenly trailed off and gave them a reproachful look, before sidling back to her seat and magically snatching back the book Spike had been holding. She then bent over her work once more in utter silence.

Darn. Pushed too hard…

“Listen,” Twilight gently urged, taking several steps forward, “I don’t know how long you’ve been in here, and I’m sorry for being so rude and rough about it. But we are all trapped in astral projection together, and the first step to finding a way out is to acknowledge that our senses are fooling us.”

No answer.

“Try to remember what you were doing before you got here.”

“Don’t you feel like there’s something wrong with this place?” Spike added. “It gave me the creeps, and that was even before Twilight snapped me out of it.”

“Leave me be.”

Those three words seemed to echo with deep-seated resignation. At what, she could not tell, but it suggested that the mare had information she didn’t want to share, for some reason. Twilight reached out with a hoof to her. “Please, try to remember. Your physical body must be somewhere nearby.”

This time, the mare raised her eyes and glared at them. Twilight shivered involuntarily when those amber eyes locked onto hers; they were completely devoid of the warmth or emotion that she’d previously displayed. A hint of steel had slipped into the unicorn’s voice when she answered, “You have outstayed your welcome. If you try to linger, do not be surprised if the guards do not take kindly to your trespassing.”

“What guards?” Twilight shook her head in disbelief. “That makes no sense. Think about what you’re saying!”

“I have nothing more to say to you. Farewell.”

The mare averted her eyes and went back to work, allowing stony silence to reign once more. But inside Twilight’s mind, a storm of questions whirled ceaselessly.

Doesn’t she realise that the castle is deserted and in ruins? She’s talking as if…

And then Twilight realised why the unicorn’s accent sounded so distinct. It was nearly identical to Princess Luna’s speech pattern when she visited Ponyville on Nightmare Night.

Stars above, is she…

“Just how long have you been in here?” Twilight whispered. “What do you remember—”

“Get out!” the mare spat.

“Please…”

“Guards!”

Twilight flinched when the unicorn slammed her hoof on the table, hard enough to send the inkwell flying. Spike leaped back as the mare’s horn blazed with green magic, glaring at Twilight with seething resentment. Seconds later, the clip clop of heavy hooves echoed throughout the library.

“We are here. What troubles you?” asked a gruff voice from behind them.

Twilight whirled around and nearly jumped into the air in shock when she found a group of four armour-clad pegasus stallions right at her back. At first glance, they looked just like royal guards, right down to the uniformly white coats, teal eyes and blue manes and tails. But after getting over her initial surprise and their stern expressions, she realised that their armour design, although similar in colouration, had distinctly more angular and coarse features than the outfit that she remembered from Shining Armour’s repeated visits home.

But before she could think of a way to reframe their conversation to adjust for their unexpected presence, the grey unicorn pointed her hoof at her and Spike, saying, “They are trespassing. Take them away.”

“What? Where to?” asked Spike in bewilderment as the pseudo-guards closed in on them.

“Where’d you guys even come from?” Twilight cried and leaped back when they attempted to seize her. “Hey, stop! I don’t know who you are, but that’s not important right now—this place isn’t what it looks like. We have to—”

“I have heard enough of your nonsense. Take them, now!” the grey unicorn shrieked.

Twilight had learned long ago from observational studies resisting arrest seldom ended well for the accused, even if—no, especially if you had done nothing wrong. Princess Celestia was always willing to give the benefit of the doubt to all ponies accused of wrongdoing. And even though she wasn’t sure the same could be said about the unicorn who appeared to be in charge of these guardsponies, the instinct to stick to protocol and play along remained strong.

“What’s the big deal—hey!”

At least, until one guard swept Spike up in his foreleg like one would an errant puppy. And before she could say anything about cooperating, Spike struggled against the rough treatment and received a cuff to the head for his trouble.

Her vision shifted a little closer towards the red spectrum.

“Please don’t do that again,” she growled at the guards, involuntarily flaring her wings. “I would appreciate it if you would Spike with a little more respect. He’s not an animal.”

“If you want to be shown respect, leave immediately,” the grey unicorn suggested icily. She then directed her gaze towards the guard who had Spike, who loosened his hold a little bit. Not enough for Spike to wriggle free, but just enough to stop causing evident pain.

“The guards won’t hurt him unless you give them a reason to,” the grey mare added with a sideways glance towards the exit.

Twilight ground her teeth in silence as she glared at the guards. She could probably take them on without too much difficulty if the situation called for it, but she didn’t want to risk them hurting Spike in the process.

Fine. We’ll play along for now.

“Okay, we’ll leave you alone. Please, just let Spike go.”

The guard holding Spike turned to the mare for confirmation, and upon receiving a curt nod, released him without complaint. Spike rushed to her side as the guards closed in to herd them towards the exit. Twilight spared one glance back at the mare, hoping to find some evidence of shady magic that might suggest mental or arcane manipulation from another source, but found no tell-tale glow on her horn or any glazed look in her eyes. The same went for the stallions.

“Where are we going?” Spike asked when they’d exited the library.

“Down,” said one of them.

Twilight raised an eyebrow as all four guards stood in a line to keep them from re-entering the library. A quick look around told her that they had no other way to go except through the corridor leading back out to the courtyard, and she couldn’t recall seeing any stairs along this way. Did the guards expect them to get there on their own? They acted as if they’d already gone as far as they’d intended.

“I don’t get it. What do you want to—aaahhh!”

The world suddenly tilted sideways. She flailed around as gravity took hold of her and scrabbled with her hooves against the slippery marble flooring, but to no effect. Spike’s claws fared no better. They screamed as a dark hole yawned beneath them and swallowed them whole. Twilight slipped and rolled until she sort of gained a little stability whilst sliding on her back and just managed to conjure a little light to see Spike, grab him and hold on tight. Vision didn’t exactly improve her assessment of the situation, though.

The smooth, spiralling stone tube made her feel like a helpless animal sliding down the gullet of some gigantic monster. Too narrow for flight, yet too wide and slippery for her to spread out her limbs to arrest their momentum.

After what seemed like an eternity, the tube straightened and evened out before it finally ejected them onto a carpet of greyish moss that cushioned their landing.

Twilight stared at the ceiling in a daze for a few seconds before a groan from Spike reset her mental gears. She released her hold on him and massaged her sore rump, then checked to make sure she hadn’t busted her saddlebags and their contents. Once satisfied that the bags and books hadn’t suffered serious damage, she staggered to all fours in order to take stock of her surroundings.

“Well, that’s not good,” Spike quipped. “Where are we?”

“Probably the dungeon.”

They had landed in a square, dank cell roughly the size of her bedroom, and right before them stood a rusty, rotting door with two flickering torches ensconced on either side. Frowning, Twilight turned back and tried to shine her light up the slide tube. She blinked once, twice, then shook her head in disbelief. A stone wall seemed to have popped into existence to obstruct the passage; it didn’t even budge when she pushed against it with a generous application of kinetic magic.

Well… okay. No other way but forward, then.

The burning torches by the door provided enough light on their own, so Twilight extinguished hers and plucked one from its bracket. Once she’d affirmed her readiness, Spike breathed a steady jet of green flame to melt the door’s rusty hinges. She then used magic to extract the door, drawing metallic creaks and groans from the remaining bolts and hinges as they buckled and gave way.

A dark passage lay behind the door, mildly sloping downwards. They went through it slowly, pausing every now and then when they might’ve heard some noises below, moving forward only when they’d judged it safe to do so. The stonework there looked in relatively good shape compared to the worn, lichen-encrusted surfaces they’d seen above.

After going for a hundred paces or so, they found another door, unlocked and in good shape. It only creaked a little as she pushed it open.

Twilight blinked as light poured into their narrow passage, and she cautiously poked her head out to find an expansive vaulted chamber on the other side of the door. Torches and oil lamps hung from brackets set into the myriad of pillars throughout the chamber, giving the place a somewhat warm appearance. Despite the stacks of boxes, draped furniture and other odds and ends sitting in haphazard clusters everywhere, the floor looked clean-swept and well-maintained. That, combined with the rather atmospheric lighting made it look as if somepony had planned to hold a ball in the castle’s crypt or undercroft.

“What now?”

Twilight trotted forward. “Let’s see if there’s another way back up. Either that, or we hope we run into somepony who knows what’s going on.”

“Yeah, okay.”

They’d barely gone in ten paces when Twilight heard hoofsteps. She froze more or less the same time as Spike did, just as a unicorn trotted into view from behind a particularly high stack of junk. He had a pale blue coat with brownish hair that looked rather well-groomed for somepony wandering in the castle’s bowels. Despite their being right out in the open, he apparently hadn’t noticed their presence and casually wandered over to another pile of stuff.

“Umm, hello?” Twilight called out.

The stallion didn’t respond. Instead, he picked up an ancient-looking, ornate jar with his magic and simply inspected with the air of somepony browsing in an antique shop.

Twilight bit her lip as she trotted towards him, wondering if she should prepare a defensive shield. He looked harmless enough.

“Hi there. I’m Twilight and this is Spike,” she began, tensing a little as the stallion turned to face her. “Uh… I don’t suppose you could tell us where we are? We’re a little lost.”

The stallion seemed to hesitate for a couple of seconds, but when he eventually smiled warmly, she almost sighed in relief.

“Ah, so very kind of you. I’ve finally found what I’m searching for!” he exclaimed, almost hopping on the spot with joy. He then levitated the jar before Twilight and said, “May I borrow this? It’s perfect for my research!”

“Uh…” Twilight blinked, then glanced at Spike for help. Unfortunately, he only supplied her with a nervous shrug.

“May I, my fine filly?” The stallion was still smiling at her.

A dozen or so excuses, explanations and incomprehensible utterances fought for control of her tongue at the same time. She didn’t own anything down there, so asking her was sort of pointless. What was he even doing looking for ancient pottery down there, and asking to borrow one, no less? But something about his mannerisms seemed familiar to her, too, and the words just rolled off her tongue before she could think to stop them.

“Sure. Just remember to return it on time.”

He nodded emphatically. “Oh, to be sure. Thank you kindly!”

After giving her and Spike a quick bow, he happily trotted off with the ornate jar in tow, oblivious to their hanging jaws.

“Okay, so that happened,” Spike eventually quipped.

“Yeah. What was that about?”

“One’s kind of obvious.” He made a swirly motion with a claw next to his head. “Maybe he’s been down here so long that he’s lost it.”

Twilight shook her head. After the instability the librarian had displayed, she did not feel very inclined to interact further with the stallion. At least, not until she’d exhausted other, less disturbing options.

“Let’s… let’s just keep searching.”

Unfortunately, further exploration of the undercroft shed little light on their situation. They found other ponies similarly off-kilter like the stallion wandering all over the place as they went deeper. Some simply browsed around like he’d done and asked for permission to borrow odds and ends whenever she spoke to them, bounding off like pleased colts and fillies if she said yes, or in one case, reverting back to searching when she said no. A few actually went around sweeping the floors and dusting everything they could get their hooves on, but not once did they respond to any of her questions. In fact, they actively tried to stay out of her way whenever possible. But some outright scared her; they simply wandered about like lost travellers, with their thousand-yard stares through vacant eyes, almost completely oblivious to anypony around them.

“We’re officially in Creepy Town,” Spike whispered as he hugged himself and shivered by her side. “This is way worse than the mime incident.”

“I don’t like it, either. Just hold on a while longer; if we don’t find another way out soon, I’ll just try breaking out the way we came.”

Something about those ponies bothered her, though. Despite some appearing pretty off in the head, they all looked reasonably clean and healthy, despite the apparent lack of water or food. Or anything else needed for basic living, really. She hadn’t seen even a hint of a mattress or latrine anywhere. Just a whole lot of furniture and not-very-useful artefacts.

She halted when Spike suddenly tapped her on the shoulder, and tracked his gaze towards the far end of the undercroft, where the lighting seemed a little brighter, with a generous portion of books thrown into the surrounding clutter.

Twilight noticed that the other ponies gave the area a wide berth; even the supposed cleaners went out of their way to avoid entering it, despite the apparent layer of dust on nearly all of the objects there. She readied a shielding spell as they crossed the threshold into dusty flooring, just in case something dangerous lurked behind the stacks of books.

After going past the dusty border, though, Twilight noted that the area showed signs of somepony’s presence. Hoof prints dotted the floor, and many of the books had sweeping patterns on their dusty covers as proof of recent usage or rearrangement. The sheets of cloth and flattened cushions strewn about also looked like resting places or makeshift beds.

A scratchy noise reached her ears as they neared the centre of the book-strewn region, and her heart rate spiked when she spotted a unicorn stallion lounging on a what looked like a nest consisting of old pillows, blankets, books, scrolls and melted candles. He had his back to a semi-circular fortress of books piled high, with a lamp on the floor by his side and a mess of open volumes strewn before him as he scribbled away on a piece of parchment. The single-minded, utter concentration he gave to his work reminded her of the librarian above; he didn’t even swivel his ears at their approach even after they’d clearly gotten within hearing distance.

Something about him reminded her of college. It might’ve been his obliviousness to the rest of the world while he worked, or the grey, somewhat dishevelled mane and beard that invoked memories of some of her professors. He certainly looked old enough for the part, with his greying coat that looked like it once had a brilliant shade of teal. Even his cutie mark depicting a sparkly scroll looked a little old and worn.

“More of you, huh?”

Twilight froze at the sound of his gravelly voice. Apparently, he had a lot more spatial awareness than she’d given him credit for. About ten paces separated them; her hooves and Spike’s feet just touching the circle of light radiating from his personal lamp.

The stallion sighed. “Whatever your business is, take it to somepony else who cares. Don’t come back.”

Twilight shared a look with Spike, then swallowed dryly as she trotted a couple of steps closer. “You’re, uh, different from the rest of them.”

“Obviously.”

Twilight quickly realised that nothing else was forthcoming. He had a disturbingly similar pattern of responses to the librarian, but she decided to press him a little further before writing him off as similarly delusional.

“I don’t suppose you know a way out of this castle?”

His quill, which hadn’t stopped dancing across the parchment in the yellow glow of his magic the entire time, suddenly stopped. Silence rushed in to fill the space around them like black water. Twilight could hear her thumping heart and Spike’s nervous breaths.

Slowly, the stallion lifted his gaze from his work. Sharp, yellow eyes that contrasted starkly with the rest of his aged appearance bored right into her. Twilight resisted the urge to fidget and allowed him to appraise her and Spike, hoping that he might have an answer.

After a moment, the stallion chuckled. “Different, eh? So are you. Tell me, what year is it?”

“One thousand and two, ANM,” Twilight answered.

“I… I see.” The stallion nodded, then wrinkled his brow in thought for a moment before squinting at Twilight. “Alicorn and dragon, huh? Times must’ve changed a lot, or Summer’s finally trying new things again.”

“Summer?” Spike tilted his head and pointed a claw upwards. “You talking about the librarian up there?”

“Yes, but that’s not important right now,” said the stallion as he waved a hoof dismissively. He then focused on Twilight and frowned. “Hmm, you look like an educated mare. Do you happen to know who wrote Everfree Entropy?”

She recognised the title easily enough; she remembered a research paper mentioning its author’s assertion that the Everfree Forest was created by decaying magic. A very widely accepted theory from nearly two hundred and fifty years ago, until more recent research proved that Nightmare Moon’s magic was responsible for the forest’s aberrant nature and the old city’s subsequent exodus. Recalling the author’s name took a little more time, but she eventually teased it out from memory.

“I think so. Professor Fern Sight the Wise wrote that.”

The stallion’s eyes gleamed. “Is his… ah, hypothesis on Everfree’s nature correct?”

“Uh, no. It’s been disproven.”

“It has, hasn’t it?”

Twilight felt the hairs at the back of her neck rising as the stallion cracked a gleeful grin. “When did everypony put an end to his nonsense?”

She discreetly repositioned herself between Spike and the stallion before answering. “About eighty years ago. Nightmare Moon was responsible, not entropy.”

The stallion nodded in apparent satisfaction. “Well, better late than never, I suppose. Now, if you’ll excuse me for a moment…”

Twilight tensed up as the stallion sat on his haunches and took a deep breath…

“Hah! I knew it!”

“Gah!” Spike yelped at the stallion’s ear-splitting bellow and leaped onto her back.

Twilight herself cringed at the volume. She’d nearly activated her defensive barrier, but quickly realised that he had only yelled up at the vaulted ceiling, loudly enough for his echoing voice to bring tiny cascades of dust down as he shook his hoof at an imaginary foe.

“Took them two blasted centuries to see through your mountain of horse apples, but they finally did it! Who’s the wise one now, huh? Not Professor Fern Sight it isn’t! That’s a hoot and a holler, hee hee!” The stallion fell onto his back and loosed a series of deep-bellied guffaws, grinning all the while like a maniac. “Oh, master, what I wouldn’t give to see your face upon hearing of your oh-so-brilliant student’s buffoonery. Hah hah. Heh…”

He crumpled into a twitching heap of chuckles, staring at the ceiling as his mirth gradually drained away, leaving him a little breathless.

“Everypony down here is completely nuts,” Spike whispered to her.

“Come now, I heard that,” the stallion growled. “But it’s true enough; you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear what you just said.”

“That you’re crazy?”

His eyes narrowed. “No, you lizardy dolt. To hear the wind taken out of my fellow, ah, academician’s sails, so to speak. Fern Sight’s far-fetched nonsense would never have seen the light of day hadn’t his father been the Archwizard of Canterlot. That it stood for so long speaks volumes of the power disparity between popularity and truth.”

Twilight felt a pit opening up in her stomach. The stallion’s apparent familiarity with famous ponies from hundreds of years ago did not bode well for their situation. “Just who are you?”

He righted himself and sat up on his haunches in order to give her a slight bow. “Professor Parch Mint, Department of History and Magic, Canterlot University.”

She frowned.

Parch Mint’s ears flattened as he let loose a weary sigh. “Never heard of me, eh? Not surprising, since I never quite got the chance to finish collecting evidence against Fern Sight’s hypothesis. No fame for me, sadly. Not even the chance to rub it in his face.”

She bit her lip. This is bad. This is really bad.

His mouth twisted into a grim smile. “Welcome to my life. Or afterlife, quite possibly. I was forty-seven when I first stuck my snout into this accursed castle. Today, I’m two hundred and ninety-three.” He then made a sweeping gesture at the fortress of books surrounding him. “If you pace yourself carefully, you might be able to fend off insanity for at least fifty years. Good luck!”

Author's Note

One and a half years since the last chapter...

It lived, it (sort of) died, it lives again! :flutterrage:

Chapter 4

“No.”

Parch Mint raised an eyebrow. “No?”

Twilight shook her head. “No. We’re not staying here that long.”

“Fascinating.” His eyes narrowed as he stroked his scruffy beard. “And just how do you intend to escape this forgotten realm, eh? I seem to remember you asking exactly how to do that in the first place.”

“We did that once already,” Spike interjected. “Right, Twi?”

She nodded firmly.

Parch Mint’s sceptical frown didn’t change. “Are you certain? This place as a tendency to addle the mind. I remember having rather vivid hallucinations from time to time in my first decade here.”

Are we?

Twilight remembered entering the castle grounds to search for information on the Tree of Harmony. The rest of her friends had gone there for reasons of their own as well, and she remembered leaving it all together after having scared each other silly all day. She remembered returning in the morning after discovering that she’d forgotten to retrieve the princesses’ journal, and subsequently getting herself and Spike trapped again.

Can we even trust my memories?

She had two clearly distinguishable versions of the castle in her mind: the one with the ideal aesthetics of a ruin that looked more like a museum’s set-piece, and the more grounded, truly ruined version with rotting books, crumbling floors and hundreds of years’ worth of accumulated organic filth. She shuddered at the memory of the guano-filled chamber. The latter corresponded with her wakefulness, before she’d allowed the star spider to bite her and trigger whatever conditions that allowed her to enter this astral projection.

In theory, at least. She wasn’t sure if she could actually prove any of that. Still, better to hold on to the hope for now; she didn’t want to put the weight of Parch Mint’s implications on Spike until they had exhausted all options.

“Okay, I can’t prove it yet, but I’m sure that we weren’t dreaming when we left this place. Just tell us what you know so we can start working on a solution.”

“Hmm…” Parch Mint still didn’t drop his frown. Instead, his horn started glowing, and the next second, his mouth twisted into a grimace before grunted and ended his spell. “Well, that’s fair enough, I suppose. At the very least I’ll have something different to do for once.”

“Did you just cast a scrying spell?” she asked.

“Ah, smart filly. You recognised it. But I suppose that’s to be expected of an alicorn. How did that come about?” He flashed her a rather dirty grin. “Did Princess Celestia finally allow a stallion to take her to heaven and back?”

Twilight tilted her head.

“Well, we wouldn’t know. But Princess Celestia doesn’t have any foals, either,” Spike pointed out.

It took a moment for the implications of the stallion’s and dragon’s words to sink in. When they did, for some reason, Twilight’s brain decided to picture Celestia with her father, Night Light in bed and—

Aagh, no! Why?

“Of course not. We’re not even related!” she half-shrieked, feeling her face grow hot. “Princess Celestia is my teacher; nothing more!” Then, rounding on Spike, she growled, “And how did you even know what he was talking about?”

Spike shrugged. “We were rearranging the biology section all day last week. You can’t expect me to not read some of them. Especially the ones with pictures.”

“With pictures? Wha—” Her jaw dropped. “I… Okay. We’ll get back onto this another time. For now, let’s just focus on our current problem.”

“Heh. Sure. Can you imagine if—”

“I just did, and I wish I had a memory-wipe spell on hoof right about now,” she grumbled.

“Huh? What did you pic—”

She could feel her face turning redder still. “Moving on, Spike!”

“Fine, sheesh.” He rolled his eyes and folded his arms. “Don’t know why you’re so worked up about the idea of being Celestia’s kid. It’s not like you don’t treat her like a mother half the time, anyway.”

“My, my,” said Parch Mint, still sporting a gleeful grin. “You two really are quite the pair! Come, have a seat. I must hear more of what has happened for the last two hundred years.”

His horn glowed, and Twilight jumped aside as a swarm of cushions whirled around them briefly before settling down to form two pillow-nests nearly identical to his. He then patted on a puffy cushion in invitation, and they both gingerly made themselves comfortable.

“Hungry?” he asked. “You technically don’t need to eat in here, but I remember taking a really long time to discard the habit. What’ll you have?”

“Uh…”

Spike’s eyes glinted. “Any chance you got sapphires?”

“I don’t think that’s something anypony will have lying around just like that,” Twilight began pointing out, just as Parch Mint levitated a stack of books aside to reveal a bowl filled with neatly cut sapphire gems.

“Hey, cool!” Spike wasted no time in grabbing the bowl and munching away contentedly.

“But how did—were those lying there the whole time?” Twilight swept her gaze over the rest of his impressive book fort, wondering what else he had stashed in every nook and cranny.

“They weren’t until they were.”

She frowned. “What kind of an answer is that?”

“The simplest kind. I just want something, and that something appears, usually within easy reach.”

Twilight stared at him for a moment before shifting her gaze to a nearby cushion. Slowly, she peeled it up from the floor, hoping to find a first-edition of Thaumaturgy Divided or something similarly rare underneath, but at the same time bracing for the possibility of something nasty leaping out at her.

She found nothing.

“Well, that didn’t work,” said Spike through a mouthful of sapphire.

Parch Mint shrugged when she threw him a questioning look. “My best approximation of the mechanism is that you have to want it and believe it at the same time. Or at the very least, not doubt it. Sometimes, even the things you do not desire can manifest if they occupy enough of your thoughts. Actually, just forget logic; thinking too much about the why and how tends to hinder the process.”

Logic… won’t help?

Somewhere inside, a tiny part of Twilight wailed in anguish.

“You know, this kind of explains how we kept running into all those weird things last time,” Spike pointed out. “Seriously, none of those trapdoors made any sense.”

Twilight stared at her hooves in silence as she recalled everypony’s accounts of their shenanigans in the castle. Pinkie and her fully functional organ, Angel Bunny and his bowl of carrots, the pristine suits of armour, secret passages leading to all sorts of places without rhyme or reason. But still…

“Does that mean you can get anything you want?”

Parch Mint shook his head. “Sadly, no. There are limits, though it’s not clear exactly where the boundary lies.”

She glanced around. “So… did you will all of these into existence just by wanting them?”

“Again, no.” He gestured towards his books. “Most of these are as constant as the castle itself, having existed as plain paper before I began working on them. Those that I summon directly tend to vanish if I forget about them.” He had a wistful look on his face for a moment before he shook his head and waved the topic aside with a hoof. “Anyway, on to more interesting things! I must’ve missed so many goings on in the outside world.”

Twilight hesitated. “But… our bodies—”

“Please, indulge me this one thing for a while.” Parch Mint’s composure cracked for a moment, just long enough for her to see the flash of desperation in his eyes – the look of a stallion who’d been alone for far too long. “I promise not to keep you overlong, and I’ll help you as best I can when we are finished.”

She turned to Spike, who gave her a noncommittal shrug.

“I—all right, I guess it wouldn’t hurt. Anything in particular you’d like to know?”

Parch Mint gestured vaguely with a hoof. “Surprise me. But your names would be a good start, so I can call you something other than filly and dragon.”

“Oh, right. I’m Twilight Sparkle, and this is Spike.” She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. “Say, how much do you know about the Mare in the Moon?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Eh?”

Twilight balked for a moment. Then, the thought sank in.

He doesn’t know.

She felt a grin coming on as she quickly organised her points to remedy that gap in his knowledge.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Oh boy. You just triggered her lecture mode.”

* * * * *

If Parch Mint felt bad about the fact that he and most of his colleagues had completely and wrongfully dismissed the significance of the Mare in the Moon all their careers, he didn’t show it. His scholarly look had turned into that of an awed student as he listened raptly to her recount of the return of Nightmare Moon and her subsequent defeat by the Elements of Harmony. To his credit, he didn’t seem to have any objections to Celestia sharing her rule with Princess Luna after her recovery.

He did admit to a little confusion about the presence of four alicorn princesses, though. Seemed to think that having more than one cheapened the status. Twilight didn’t blame him; at times she did wonder about her future as an alicorn, and whether they would see any other ascensions within her lifetime. At any rate, Parch Mint seemed familiar with the concept of Princess Celestia grooming Twilight as an apprentice, though she could not recall Celestia taking anypony else under her wing before.

Spike’s hatching did get a raised eyebrow from him, along with a bit of muttering in the gist of wishing he had a dragon assistant with instantaneous messaging to boot. Spike’s eye-roll made his opinion on the matter clear enough.

They moved on to general history after that. She briefed him as best she could on the most significant discoveries since his time, along with the founding of various cities and settlements whenever he voiced his unfamiliarity with certain names.

At some point, they exhausted the topic and came back around to the castle itself. Despite feeling certain that several hours had gone by, Twilight couldn’t find any way to mark the passage of time aside from Spike’s empty bowl. She wondered if Parch Mint counted that as a blessing, given how long he had remained trapped in this… nightmare. The term seemed appropriate enough.

“What about the other ponies?” she asked, tilting her head towards the listless figures wandering about in the distance. “How long have they been here?”

“They’re not really ponies, else I would be more welcoming of their company,” he said with a disapproving glance towards a mare sweeping the floor. “Have you ever used a scrying spell in here? Near one of them, I mean.”

“I know about the castle, but what about them?”

“See for yourself.”

Frowning, Twilight closed her eyes and gingerly channelled the spell. As expected, the overwhelming brightness of the arcane threads surrounding them quickly generated pain behind her eyes and in her horn, so she didn’t have time to waste. In contrast to their surroundings, Spike and Parch Mint had a more subtle, organic glow to their auras. The other ponies dotting the undercroft’s landscape, on the other hoof, had brilliant figures like lit trees on Hearth’s Warming Eve – as artificial as the pocket realm they occupied. Fighting the growing headache, she rapidly zipped her attention from one to the next, hoping to find a real pony amongst them.

Eventually, though, the pain compelled her to terminate the spell.

“You understand, now.” Parch Mint commented dryly.

“What’s he talking about?” Spike asked, switching his gaze repeatedly between them.

Twilight had to take a moment to massage her temples before answering, “They’re constructs, just like the castle.” She shook her head and groaned. “No wonder they acted so… weird. Where did they come from?”

“You’ll have to ask the librarian yourself, I’m afraid. Even with all these at my disposal,” – here, he gestured towards his mountain of books – “I have not determined the mechanism by which she brought them into being. She either has knowledge and skill far beyond mine, or has discovered a way to create simulacra the same way we can summon petty objects from thin air in this place. At least, I am quite certain that she’s responsible; she had names for each of them.”

“She was kind of lonely, huh?” Spike asked.

“In all likelihood, she’s been here for far longer than I have. I could never learn much about her past; her lips were rather tight in that regard, but every now and then I managed to glean some little titbit when she was feeling unusually chatty. That mare – Summer Cloud’s her name – once corrected me on some facts concerning the exodus from Everfree; I suspect she might have witnessed it herself, if not lived as one of the colonists.”

Twilight remained silent. She could barely fathom living alone for a couple of hundred years, let alone close to a thousand.

“At any rate, the poor filly had—”

“Isn’t she technically older than you?” Spike interjected.

That earned him a scowl from Parch Mint. “She looked barely older than my niece when we first met. Anyway, as I was saying, she’d surrounded herself with these poor imitations of ponies for company when I first explored these ruins. A nice little community of servants, happy readers and a couple of guards. Threw me for a loop, I can tell you.”

Twilight raised a hoof. “Are you the only other real pony to have found her in all these years? Until us, I mean.”

Parch Mint’s ears drooped, and he stared at the floor for quite a while before answering, “No. At least, I’m certain Longshot and Ferrite were real. Two self-styled explorers – grave robbers, more likely – that got a lot more than they bargained for. Funny guys, once you got over the fact that they were here to pick the castle clean of leftover valuables, the scoundrels.” He chuckled wryly. “I hadn’t yet figured out my predicament when I first met them, so I never confirmed it with scrying. But they had too much personality to be simulacra. I do miss them, crass language and all.”

“So where are they now?”

His mouth settled into a grim line. “None of us knew how to escape. We didn’t know how much control Summer had in here; we just thought her another unlucky explorer. More on that in a moment.”

He shook his head. “Poor slobs didn’t have any interest in books, no matter how often I advised them to poke their snouts into one. I wonder if that’s a pegasus thing. Went stir-crazy from boredom after they got tired of stealing things from a place they couldn’t leave. Summer Cloud played librarian, studied and transcribed to keep herself occupied, and I had access to volumes lost to the ages for writing my dissertations that nopony will ever look at – you could be the first, though.”

Spike eyed the impressive pile of worksheets next to Parch Mint and frowned. “What does all that have to do with anything?”

“I wasn’t joking about staving off insanity,” Parch Mint growled. “Longshot and Ferrite went berserk turning the place inside out in their search for an exit. Summer had been happy to ignore them for the most part, until they started wrecking her materials. They blamed her, since she was here the longest and didn’t seem all that troubled. Probably in denial, but they pushed her until she snapped and banished them underground.”

Something about his tone made the hairs on the back of her neck rise, and Twilight had to peer around a stack of books to get a view of the rest of the undercroft just to assure herself that somepony wasn’t sneaking up on them. She couldn’t spot any shadowy figures lurking around aside from the wandering simulacra, but that didn’t make her feel much better.

“So… where are they now? And how did you end up here?” she asked.

“This place addles the mind, as you probably know by now. Between the lost books and all the time in the world, I was happily doing research and writing papers for the better part of four… maybe five months. Possibly six; it’s hard to remember. I didn’t question much until those two arrived, and even then, I still acted like I was on a lengthy expedition.”

He sighed. “When she banished the poor fellows, I realised her connection to this place. I, too, confronted her when I began wondering about ever returning to Canterlot. Apparently, she didn’t not like her illusion of normalcy challenged, and it was off to the dungeons with me.”

“And the other two?”

Parch Mint gave them a piercing stare. A deep weariness lurked in the depths of his eyes, and Twilight shivered involuntarily as he said, “We were confined; the gate was shut, and there were no windows or drains. We roared, we begged and we cried. Hour upon hour, scouring every little corner and shadow looking for a possible way out. We drove ourselves insane. They turned on me, blaming me for lacking the skill to teleport us out. So I simply kept away and despaired on my own.

“The things I did to—actually, never mind. I’ll spare you the tedium of hearing about the turmoil I went through before recovering some semblance of a clear mind. Suffice to say, after anything between a week and maybe a decade or two, I gave up and carried on as best I could, wishing quills and ink into existence to write anything I fancied on the walls.

“In the meantime, simulacra started appearing down here. I don’t know what drove Summer to discard them, but I doubt she did it out of a desire to provide us with cheap company. Perhaps she got tired of their falseness herself. The ‘servants’ annoyed me to no end when they kept cleaning up my scribbling.”

Parch Mint’s gaze had wandered a little during his narration, but his eyes suddenly darted back to Twilight when she fidgeted.

“Yes, yes. I’m getting to what happened to the two boys.” His eyes grew distant for a moment. “You ever set hoof into a mental asylum? I think you would’ve considered this one during that time. True despair is… ugly and frightening. I kept my distance, and thankfully, they seldom saw fit to bother me. Over time, they became like those fellows.” He waved his hoof in the general direction of one of the blank-faced simulacra.

Spike shifted closer to Twilight, pressing to her side, and she involuntarily wrapped a foreleg around him. She could feel him shivering a little. Or maybe she was the one trembling; she couldn’t tell. Upon glancing down and seeing his nervous gulp, she grit her teeth behind her lips and tightened her hold on him as if to say, I won’t ever let that happen to us.

“They eventually disappeared, though,” Parch Mint carried on, oblivious to their exchange. “Just gone, one day.”

“They got out?” Twilight asked hopefully.

“I don’t know. I checked everywhere and never found them, but at the same time, I’m not so sure if it did them any good.”

“Hang on,” Spike interjected, raising a claw. “How’d you even check everywhere? I thought you were stuck down here.”

“I teleported.”

“Wait, I thought you said—”

Parch Mint fixed them a wry grin. “That I couldn’t do it? I already knew the theory; I just lacked the skill and never had a reason to master something so far beyond my ability it until then. Mind you, I still took the better part of a blasted lifetime to master it, but I eventually managed to make my way to the top again.”

“Uh, Twilight?”

She scratched the back of her neck and grinned sheepishly at Spike. “Yeah, I should’ve thought about that. It’s very risky, though. I don’t know the exact dimensions to make a safe jump.” She then focused on Parch Mint. “But I suppose you do.”

He nodded. “I can show you later, but back to the two boys for now. I searched the whole castle, but I never found a trace of them. Unless Summer has another pocket reality to banish them to, they had either escaped, or…”

“Or what?” Twilight pressed.

Parch Mint patted himself on the chest. “What are we, right now? I’m certain we aren’t organic; I’ve not eaten or relieved myself for ages. What about pure consciousness? Souls? Can we… unravel in this state?”

He shook his head. “Never mind. The answers probably won’t be very helpful right now. I’ll just say this: I never saw those boys again. If they truly escaped, good on them, I suppose. Otherwise, there’s the possibility that true apathy can utterly destroy a soul. I even wrote two whole books exploring the theory, if you care to read.”

“Umm, maybe later.” She had bigger things to worry about, like why he had opted to lurk in the undercroft when he apparently had access to most of the castle. “So… why are you still down here?”

“Oh, she simply banished me again that one time I actually tried to fight her; I lost, in case you didn’t realise.”

Spike raised an eye ridge. “She sent you back to the place that you can leave whenever you like?”

“Well, what else can she do? Execute me?” He chuckled heartily at first, but they soon faded away when Twilight and Spike didn’t join in, leaving them in awkward silence. “Eh, forgive me. Death doesn’t look the same anymore.” He cleared his throat as if to reset the conversation and went on. “I stay here because it’s the closest thing to home. I’m far from her, and she tolerates the odd book I pilfer every now and then so long as I return it within a month. If I like it, I make a copy before she comes after me. And so this has gone on, year after year, until you youngsters showed up.”

His tale apparently finished, Parch Mint reached behind a stack of books and fished out another bowl of sapphires, which he offered to Spike. “Another round for you?”

Spike glanced at the empty bowl in his claws, then tentatively massaged his belly before frowning and shaking his head. “Uh, I’ll pass. They were sort of good, but I—I don’t think they’re really doing anything for me. I still feel kinda empty.”

Parch Mint nodded. “A fleeting pleasure, sadly.”

The silence closed in on them once more. Twilight gazed at his mountain of books, wondering what it would’ve felt like to go through them endlessly, day in and day out, working whilst the outside world aged past without a care. Could she ever tire of that? Looking back at how she’d often seclude herself in the library to conduct research or write reports, she saw an uncomfortable likeness between her behaviour and Parch Mint’s. If she could lock out the world, suspend all distracting bodily functions and focus all her time and energy on academic pursuits, would she?

The old Twilight might, before she had friends.

She glanced at the old stallion and shivered internally; she did not want to share his fate. Life had a lot more to offer than that, and the thought of trapping Spike here for a fantasy he did not share burned at her conscience.

We can’t stay here.

“Eh? Did you say something?” Parch Mint asked.

“We can’t stay here,” Twilight repeated as she rose to all fours. “Can you show me the coordinates for a safe teleport out?”

“What’s your plan?”

“I’ll talk to her again. Now that I know more of the story, I might be able to get through to her.”

He chuckled ruefully. “I wish shared your optimism. She’s a stubborn one. But if you can corner her, then perhaps she might show more respect a student of the Princess, especially if you are as magically adept as I believe.”

Twilight bit her lip. “I—I’d rather not have to fight, if that’s what you mean.”

“I’d bet you can take her on,” Spike pointed out, springing to his feet. “Those guards won’t stand a chance, either.”

“It may very well come to that,” Parch Mint warned, also getting to all fours. “Come with me.”

He led them to a darker, more secluded corner in the chamber, away from any books or junk that might get damaged by a ‘potentially faulty’ teleport, as he put it. Along the way, he furnished her with the necessary coordinates to make a safe jump back to the castle’s courtyard, which she dutifully committed to memory.

“Say, what’re you getting out of this?”

The old stallion arched an eyebrow at Spike, then grinned. “Drama, hopefully. Changing the status quo. Anything to break the monotony, really.”

“You… you can’t really go back, can you?” Twilight said in an undertone. “Your body can’t have survived until now.”

“I have moved past it,” he huffed. “Save your tears for the girl who still hasn’t come to terms with her fate.”

* * * * *

Teleporting within a variant of astral projection felt very different from bypassing normal space. Instead of sensory nullification, traversing the arcane threads gave her a massive amount of thaumic feedback, like a mild case of getting struck by lightning.

Twilight emerged back into the courtyard gritting her teeth and groaning, accompanied by a small explosion of heat and smoke that incinerated the grass at her hooves. Spike’s loud cry rang in her ears a moment before he toppled off her back and landed belly-first, creating a ripple of fine ash. Her hooves wobbled, but she managed to steady herself in time and glared at Parch Mint, who apparently hadn’t had much trouble with the spell at all.

“Ugh. You know, that was a lot more than ‘just a little shock’,” she grumbled.

Spike groaned and began cleaning his sooty face with a rag, all the while giving the stallion a bit of the stink eye. “Yeah, not cool at all.”

“Heh, my mistake.” He dipped his head in apology. “I’ve had my, uh, standards for agony significantly raised by a few botched attempts to escape.”

“What did you do?”

“Oh, just a little bit of impalement, incineration, and visceral disruption… maybe a touch of petrification here and there,” he said, gesturing vaguely with a hoof.

Twilight and Spike simply stared at him, open-mouthed.

Parch Mint shrugged. “Did I mention that conventional methods for offing oneself don’t work?”

“I’m so gonna need therapy after this,” Spike muttered.

Twilight gently patted him on the shoulder. “Hang in there. Ice cream and full day at the spa after we get out. My treat.”

“Lovely sentiment, but let us focus on your task before thinking about celebrating, eh?”

She followed his gaze to the massive doors to the great hall. Thick clouds hung in the evening sky, shedding just enough light on the stone griffons perched on the roofs and walls to give them an eerie outline as the wind howled and whistled through the castle’s many windows. Deep inside, an ancient library filled with forgotten knowledge, guarded by a lonely, lost mare wielding strange magic. Collateral damage looked very likely if things got heated, but would any of that matter if the books weren’t real?

The great doors rumbled as Twilight pushed them open with magic. She paused just at the threshold and took a deep breath to steady her racing heart. Then, glancing back, she saw Spike following with grim determination on his face. Parch Mint had a more leisurely stance as he trotted along.

Well, here goes.

The wind at her back blew a storm of dead leaves and grass through the gaping doorway, and she resolutely marched forth into the shadows.

Chapter 5

They moved quickly through the grand halls and corridors, the sounds of their hooves and clawed feet echoing into the shadowy depths. Twilight did her best to assuage the pooling dread and fear in her chest, but she couldn’t quite shake off the feeling that they were about to provoke Summer Cloud into doing something terrible. Let sleeping dragons lie, and all that.

“What’s the plan?” Spike asked as he hopped onto her back.

Twilight set her mouth into a grim line. “We talk first. If that doesn’t work, we’ll just have to play it by ear.”

“Let’s hope that she still respects Princess Celestia after all these years, eh?” Parch Mint chuckled mirthlessly. “Besides outright overpowering her, I cannot imagine any other leverage you might have over the poor filly.”

Despite catching glimpses of things skulking in the shadows they passed, that might or might not have been due to nerves and an overactive imagination, Twilight and her companions reached the library without incident.

Unlike last time, Summer Cloud’s study had the addition of two pegasus guards keeping watch on either side of the doorway. They bristled at Twilight’s approach, and she stopped within earshot of the mare within, about twenty paces from the entrance.

“Summer Cloud, can we please talk?” she called out.

No answer. She could see the mare studiously scribbling away as if deaf to the world.

“I know you’ve been through a lot, but you don’t have to give up just yet. I’m Princess Celestia’s personal student, and I’m sure that together we can figure out a way to help you.”

Summer’s scribbling faltered for a split second, but she quickly carried on as if nothing had happened. The act didn’t fool Twilight, though. She’d also seen one of her ears twitch; she’d definitely heard most of if not everything she said.

“We might have to try something a little more… direct,” Parch Mint suggested under his breath.

“Yeah. Definitely in denial,” Spike agreed.

“Not just yet,” Twilight whispered. Whilst waiting for a reply, she discreetly used scrying to pierce the visual elements of the projection, and gasped when the pain nearly blinded her. She terminated the spell almost immediately, but the pattern of the arcane threads had already burned itself into her brain: they all sprang from Summer Cloud like threads from the core of a three-dimensional spider web. Whatever the reason for the projection’s existence or maintenance, the thousand-year-old mare had something to do with it; whether its source or conduit, as far as Twilight could tell, she was inextricably linked to it.

And so are we.

Somehow, they had gotten themselves tangled in the mass of interwoven threads. She could see a few possibilities in disentangling themselves – good thing she had gotten some research and practice at that since her experience in watching Celestia’s battle with Nightmare Moon via Zecora’s potion. Otherwise, the complexity and finesse necessary to manipulate the threads would’ve probably stumped her.

She couldn’t start messing with them yet, though. Summer probably wouldn’t appreciate it very much.

Okay, different tack.

“You were close to Princess Celestia, weren’t you?” she asked.

The scratching quill stopped. Twilight couldn’t exactly tell from that distance, but her hoof might’ve tensed up and started trembling as well.

“If she were in your place, what would she have done?”

Summer Cloud looked up from her work and gazed balefully at her, eyes almost glowing with resentment or anger. “Get out.”

At once both guards at the doorway charged, and she heard the rapid treads of hooves coming from behind as well. Despite the impending danger, she somehow found enough time to remember Shining’s quip for botched negotiations.

All right, teatime’s over. We’re going in loud.

Twilight threw up a protective barrier and shoved the guards aside like paperweights. Not enough to knock them senseless, but enough to send them sprawling on the floor. Although she knew that they were little more than pony-look-alike constructs, she still felt a little guilty when they leapt back up and repeatedly bucked at her shield, more so because they clearly didn’t have the strength to break it anytime soon. She moved forward, and the shield simply followed like an upturned fishbowl bouncing pony figurines aside.

She did remember to adjust the shield to allow everything and everyone else to pass unharmed, though. Wrecking Summer’s work and sending her crashing into the back of her study would in all likelihood completely destroy any chance they had left at getting through to her, if they hadn’t, already.

After conjuring a stationary barrier to keep the guards out, she addressed a glowering Summer Cloud directly, “Why are you doing this? We want to help you, but we can’t if—”

“Nopony has or ever will help me,” Summer cried, her voice gradually rising with each syllable until she shrieked, “Why should you be any different?”

Twilight’s ears flattened, but she held her ground and spoke softly, “Couldn’t you at least give us the chance to show that we’re different?”

Summer still bristled, but at least her voice lowered to a growl. “Disappointment. Despair. You don’t know what they truly are. I am alone, irrelevant. There is nothing left for me.”

“Summer, you are not irrelevant. You’re still as much a pony as the rest of us.”

Summer shook her head. “And you make a poor liar. Nopony even knows my name anymore. I’m just a forgotten part of history.”

“I’d bet that Princess Celestia remembers you.”

Upon hearing Summer’s sharp intake of breath, Twilight strode forward and pressed her advantage. “And I’m sure that she’ll do everything she can to help you if she just knew what’s happened; I promise to tell her as soon as possible if you help us get out of here.”

Silence filled the room, until Twilight could almost hear everypony’s individual breaths. Summer stared at the semi-organised mess of unfurled scrolls and scratchy notes on her worktable, seemingly lost in thought.

She glanced at Spike for help, but he only gave her a helpless shrug. Parch Mint, on the other hoof, simply leaned closer and whispered, “She’s having one of those moments again. Good luck getting anything out of her for another hour or two.”

“We don’t have an hour.” She paused to reinforce the barrier at the door, where the guards were still pounding away and added, “Any suggestions?”

“Keep talking about the Princess. She seems to have a soft spot for her.”

“Right.”

Twilight cautiously trotted to the worktable. “Summer, may I?”

Silence answered.

After a moment of hesitation, she placed one hoof by the side of the table, where she expected Summer to draw the line of crossing into her personal space. When she didn’t react to the intrusion, Twilight slowly sidled up to her, saying, “You know, Princess Celestia taught me a lot about magic. I had many teachers, but whenever I got stumped with difficult concepts, she was always there to walk me through it until I understood.” She chuckled nervously. “Even when I woke her up in the middle of the night because I couldn’t sleep until I figured something out.”

She got around the table to Summer’s side, but the mare didn’t get up from her seat or even look at her. But Twilight could tell from the angle of her ears that she was listening. She briefly considered putting a hoof on her shoulder, but decided against it.

“I don’t know what she was like during your time, but if I had to guess, she’d be just as caring as I remember. If she could put off sleep to answer a little filly’s questions on obscure branches of magic, I’m sure that she would never hesitate to come to the rescue of one of her lost students.”

Summer Cloud remained silent, but Twilight saw that her posture had lost some stiffness, so she kept talking about Celestia. She went into great detail about how much Celestia had influenced hers and Spike’s education and upbringing alongside their parents, ranging from their time under her direct tutelage to her final nudge towards pursuing friendship beyond Canterlot’s walls.

All the while, she kept an eye on Spike and Parch Mint through the corner of her eye. Between nervous glances towards the guards bashing on the barrier blocking the doorway and curious gazes at whatever odd relics Summer had placed in her study, Spike seemed fully preoccupied. Parch Mint, on the other hoof, had his horn glowing a faint yellow as he inspected their surroundings. Searching for wards, maybe? Twilight couldn’t spare the concentration to parse his magic, so she simply hoped that he knew not to do anything that might provoke Summer Cloud.

“Anyway, that was how I learned that friendship is magic,” she concluded. “Ponies aren’t meant to be alone. I don’t know how you managed it, but I understand how much—”

“Understand?” Summer growled. “Do not patronise me. You know nothing about what I have lived through, you foal!” Her eyes blazed with green light as her horn flared, and Spike and Parch Mint immediately ducked for cover.

Oh no. Wrong word. Totally the wrong word!

Too late to backtrack. Quick as thought, Twilight teleported back to her original position between Summer Cloud and her companions and threw up a shield dome around them just as Summer fired a beam of magic straight at her. She repulsed the attack easily enough, but it had the unfortunate side effect of deflecting the energy onto everything else in the study. As soon as the storm of quills and loose paper had settled, Summer’s stunned surprise turned to an ugly mask of rage as she ground her teeth and redoubled her efforts to send them flying.

The second blast had a lot more power behind it. After just a few seconds, Twilight had to draw some magic away from her barrier at the door to keep the shield up, at the risk of letting the guards break through and take them from behind.

“Well, this is exciting,” Parch Mint quipped.

Twilight bit back an irritated remark and focused on maintaining her shield. To his credit, the old stallion at least had the sense to help by contributing his magic to her spell. Their combined magic held up under the onslaught, but something about Summer’s spell made it a struggle even then. Most unicorns used pure energy focused on a single point that one could counter simply by concentrating most of a barrier’s strength at the point of contact. But instead of dispersing like a jet of water from a hose striking a solid object, Summer’s magic clung to the barrier’s dome and flowed around it, and she could feel multiple, shifting points of concentrated pressure bearing down on it. She had to expend way more magic by spreading it evenly across the whole barrier since she had no way of reliably predicting Summer’s point of attack.

Her world shrunk to a little sphere in the crushing grip of a vice. Spike shouted something, but she couldn’t spare the attention. She resented even the drop of sweat sliding down her cheek.

Something scraped her knees.

Twilight realised that her hind legs had buckled, and her front ones were close to following suit, judging by the way they kept wobbling. If she could just—

No. Too much!

She teleported all three of them several paces to the side as Summer’s magic beam punched a hole through the barrier and struck the spot where she’d stood seconds before. Twilight still had enough power to hold the doorway, but she probably couldn’t stand up under another blast like that.

Quick as lightning, Summer followed up with another bolt of magic, and Twilight failed to dodge.

An odd sense of looseness spread from her chest where the bolt had struck, and Twilight looked down to find her chest glowing green. Her vision blurred, overlaid with shadows and silhouettes of towering structures. A twisting sensation followed, like threads unravelling, and then by pain as something within her began tearing apart.

Twilight screamed and threw whatever power she had left into a general counterspell, hoping that it would nullify the effect. To her relief, the pain subsided to a tolerable level, though she found herself sprawled on her back with Parch Mint by her side, grimacing as he rubbed his jaw.

Did I kick him?

She rolled onto her belly and tried to mumble an apology, but only managed a dull groan.

Summer Cloud stood from behind her worktable, with wisps of smoke rising from the red-hot tip of her horn as she panted for breath. At that moment, Twilight’s barrier at the doorway failed, and four guards came thundering into the study to surround Twilight and Parch Mint.

“That… that lasted a lot longer than I expected.” Parch Mint coughed and tried to get up, but only crumpled back to the floor and groaned. “Do we have another plan?”

Twilight measured her reserves and felt her ears droop. She had barely enough magic left to manage a few simple spells, let alone fight Summer Cloud and all her guards whilst protecting Parch Mint and Spike. Then, she blinked.

Wait. Where is he?

“I… I warned you. But you just… you just had to persist,” Summer said between breaths. She spat on the floor and shook her head. “Well, this time, you—”

“That’s enough!”

All heads turned to Spike. He’d somehow gotten atop one of the bookshelves without anypony noticing, hunched over on all fours like a gargoyle with his front claws gripping the edge. Smoke streamed out of his nostrils as he bared his teeth at her.

“Wretched lizard,” Summer muttered. “Guards, seize them!”

Heavy hooves grabbed Twilight, and she gasped when Spike took a deep breath in response.

“Wait!” she cried out, and then blinked when she realised that Parch Mint and Summer had also done the same, with looks of horror plastered on their faces.

Too late. Spike breathed a jet of green dragonfire down on the bookshelf’s contents.

Summer Cloud shrieked and shot a bolt of energy at Spike. He dodged and leapt to an adjacent bookshelf, where he leaned over the edge and snorted out a tongue of flame in warning. Summer trembled, apparently torn between revenge and saving her books. A moment later, she growled and cast a spell at the blazing bookshelf.

Unfortunately, as Twilight had learned a long time ago, dragonfire and unicorn magic did not go well together. The flames simply crackled and spat angrily when her magic made contact. Another attempt only led to an explosion of sparks that threatened to spread flames to other shelves and tables.

The guards released Twilight. Two galloped out of the study, whilst the other two dashed over to the shelf and tipped it over, spilling its blazing contents onto the floor. Then, as soon as the shelf slammed down and smothered the flames, the other two guards came back with pails and dumped water all over the crackling mess.

As steam and black smoke filled the study, Parch Mint grabbed Twilight by the foreleg and pulled her onto all fours before herding her back and out the doorway. She stumbled along, unable to put out of her mind the sight of Spike turning all those ancient books to ash. Still woozy from the massive expenditure of magic, she halted just fifteen or so paces from the doorway and sat on her haunches as she tried to cough out the smoke she’d accidentally inhaled. Parch Mint did the same.

Seconds later, she heard the scratchy noise of Spike’s clawed feet, and she turned to find him sprinting out of the black cloud.

Twilight blinked. “Where’d you find those?”

Spike glanced at the Spike-sized sword and shield in his grip and shrugged. “I just did.” He then turned around and adopted a defensive stance in front of her, like a knight ready to defend his charge.

They stared in silence at the entrance to the study, from which smoke and steam still billowed out. After a while, the black cloud became suffused with a green glow. Then, Twilight felt her hairs stand on end as an eerie moan filled the castle. It steadily grew in volume, until it turned into a howl of anguish that turned her legs to jelly. Spike yelped and dropped his armaments before dashing back to huddle with her and Parch Mint as the cloud of smoke surged out like a tidal wave.

The green light vanished, and the wail petered out, echoing through the castle’s cold and lonely interior. Wisps of smoke wafted out of the study, accompanied by faint sobbing.

Twilight shared a look with Spike and Parch Mint.

“Regrettably harsh, but I think this is progress,” Parch Mint whispered as he squinted at the dark doorway. “I’ve never known her to display this much… vulnerability.”

Spike narrowed his eyes. “Think it’s a trick?”

Twilight shakily rose and slowly approached the study. “Well, it’s not like there’s much else we can do.”

They cautiously entered the study again. The place reeked of burnt paper and sulphurous dragonfire. Twilight conjured some light and found motes of ash floating in the air like grey snow, settling on the mess of books, scrolls and other texts strewn haphazardly amidst the overturned furniture. Nearby, the blackened bookshelf still gave off steam from its charred wood. The guards had disappeared.

Summer Cloud sat on her haunches in the epicentre of the wreckage, head hanging low as her tears fell to the floor. Twilight felt a pang of guilt seeing her broken and crying like that, even though she had technically attacked them first.

Twilight inched as close as she dared, despite a bit of silent, frantic waving and head shaking from Spike. Parch Mint at least appeared cautiously optimistic from the encouraging nod he gave her.

Getting a bit of déjà vu, here…

Thankfully, Summer didn’t object to their intrusion. She simply cried on, seemingly oblivious to their presence. Things got more than a little awkward after several minutes of that, and Twilight began weighing the merits of comforting her against the risk of triggering another fit of anger. No telling how long it would take her to work it out of her system, though.

Eventually, Twilight worked up the courage to speak, but Summer beat her to it.

She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “I am sorry.”

“I—we, uh, we’re sorry, too.” Twilight bit her lip as her heart rate climbed, remembering just how little it had taken to set her off. “We didn’t mean for things to get that far out of hoof.”

Summer held her head in her hooves and exhaled slowly, then turned to Twilight with reddened eyes wet with new tears. “I appreciate your… tact. But I—I will take responsibility for my poor conduct. It is terribly unbecoming for an apprentice of Princess Celestia to treat wayward travellers like that.”

Amongst her friends, this would usually be the point where everypony would get into a hug of reconciliation. After a moment of consideration, Twilight decided that she probably could use the emotional support and deserved an offer, at the very least. She inched closer and extended both forelegs in invitation, but that only got a confused frown from Summer. Understanding dawned on her face a moment later, followed by the tiniest bit of restrained recoil.

Twilight felt blood rushing to her cheeks and gingerly set her hooves down once more, feeling like that one time Shining had caught her dancing in the shower. The silence grew deafening, but Twilight’s brain had ground to a halt under the fear of saying something that might make things even more awkward.

“Well, now that we’ve exchanged pleasantries and apologies,” Parch Mint spoke up, trotting forward to Twilight’s side, “could we all settle down and figure out what’s next on the agenda? Summer, I know that time is nearly meaningless to us here, but I’m afraid that this filly and her dragon don’t share that luxury. Or curse, whichever way you see it.”

Professor, you’re a real hero.

Summer Cloud silently appraised him for a moment, still as a statue, then sighed and nodded. “Straight to the point, I see, even after all these decades. Very well. I suppose I owe you all that much.” She turned her gaze to Twilight and added, “You strike me as the type never satisfied without knowing answers; if you like, I will try to answer any questions you might have before we part ways.”

Twilight and Parch Mint sat on their haunches before Summer, and Spike settled by her side. After taking a moment for consideration, she decided to start with something related to their most pressing issue.

“Parch Mint said that he never found a way out. But two ponies did. How did Ferrite and Longshot leave this place?”

Summer averted her eyes. “I granted them their wish. I gave them death.”

Twilight felt her bones grow cold. “You… you killed them?”

“I warned them, but they would not believe me. When I finally gave in to their demands, their bodies had long since rotten away. What else would they find but death?” Summer turned her head to one side and seemed to stare through a wall, at something only she could see. “I… I saw their faces when I untangled them from this projection. I heard their screams as they faded away…”

Summer’s jaw trembled, and she suddenly choked back a sob. “Oh, stars above, I have taken ponies’ lives. I never meant to become a… a wretched abomination. Not like this.” She shook her head. “Not like this…”

Twilight shifted a little closer, nodding discreetly at Spike and Parch Mint for their concerned looks. “But… why?”

“So long ago… At first, I gladly welcomed the company and freely released wanderers who lost themselves in my forgotten realm, after begging them to promise to tell the Princess, anypony, of my fate. They all promised, and they all failed to keep it. Years between every new wanderer, and they all had no prior knowledge of my existence outside of ghost tales. Again and again, I allowed myself to hope that I would find somepony who would send word to the Arcanists, the Wizards, the Masters, the Professors or whatever you now call those who have mastered the arcane arts…”

Summer paused to stare at Twilight, and she felt the ambient temperature drop at the sight of the deep weariness in her amber eyes.

“Again and again I dared to hope, only to find disappointment as the years passed.” She looked down and pawed at the floor. “Eventually, I despaired and simply chose to deceive all who entered my realm. I could not bear to have my hopes destroyed again. For us, the outside world did not exist, and the befuddling nature of this place made it easy to convince most of them so. When they in turn ceased to care for this shadow of life and confronted me, I… I banished them back to the waking world where their bodies must have long since turned to bones.”

Twilight glanced at Parch Mint. Upon noticing her attention, he simply gave her a discreet shrug.

I wonder how many others had been like him, Ferrite and Longshot…

Spike suddenly broke the silence. “Are… are you the Pony of Shadows?”

“I don’t know. Nopony has called me by that name, though it does sound apt for what I have become.” Summer took a deep, shuddering breath and wiped her eyes. “I… I thank you all for returning me to my senses. Even if I must…” Tears welled up in her eyes anew, and she snorted and pounded her hoof on the floor. “—come to terms with what I have done. Especially to you, professor. I am so, so sorry...”

Parch Mint nodded slowly and chuckled. “Well, it’s far enough in the past that it doesn’t hurt too much anymore. I think I can forgive you.”

“But what happened here in the first place?” Twilight asked. “How did you get this way? And how are you even sustaining this projection?”

Summer Cloud shut her eyes and turned towards the ceiling, as if basking in an imaginary sun. After a moment of silence, she sighed. “I was apprentice to Princess Celestia, a long time ago. I was there when Princess Luna succumbed to the darkness.”

“Oh, so I did guess right,” Parch Mint said, ears perking up instantly. “Little Sparkle here’s filled me in on a bit of history, but to hear a first-hoof account is just perfect!”

“I wish I shared your enthusiasm,” she murmured. “Remembering is… unpleasant.”

“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to,” Twilight said gingerly, even though she felt a little guilty about totally hoping that she wouldn’t stop.

“No, I think I can manage.” She took another moment to brace herself, then tossed her mane and continued, “Nightmare Moon cursed Everfree as Princess Celestia banished her to the moon. Her magic turned the land against us. Crops grew wild and unruly, the animals, feral and terrifying. After the terrible battle between the Two Sisters, Everfree had been shaken to its foundations and could not stand against the rising terrors of the forest, and so we fled. But a few scholars such as myself returned every now and then to salvage what we could of their Royal Highnesses’ library.”

Twilight nodded slowly. In her place, she probably would’ve done the same. “How dangerous was it?”

“Dangerous enough. But Princess Celestia spared us guards for each trip, and they fared well enough at fending off wild creatures.” Summer shook her head. “The details elude me, but I believe it’s most likely that a wall or arch collapsed on me whilst I toiled in the darkness. Next thing I knew, I was alone in this forsaken place.”

“Ouch,” Spike whispered.

Twilight nudged him gently and got an apologetic nod.

“Everfree has magic of its own. I don’t know whether I had somehow created this projection or if Everfree had made it to house my dying consciousness, but I believe that I am bound to it; I can even tap into a portion of its magic. Since then, I have spent most of my time transcribing corporeal texts into ethereal forms before the preservation enchantments failed.” She gestured out the doorway, towards the labyrinthine series of bookshelves outside. “What you see is a shadow of the real castle. And like shadows, it can be distorted, altered. I made this one mine, and shaped its books to my memories through centuries of work.”

Twilight bit her lip and snuck a sideways glance at the charred bookshelf.

“Oh. Um…” Spike twiddled his thumbs and averted his eyes. “Sorry about that. I didn’t know—I mean, yeah. Sorry.”

Summer gave them a rueful smile. “I consider it a small price for the return of some sanity to me.”

“Maybe a little company, too, eh?” Parch Mint added with a grin. “Now that you’re past the hostilities, we can get to the really important things, like discussing the appalling state of the history section. You still haven’t let me add my contributions to what you’ve missed for the past five centuries.”

“Some companionship would not go amiss, yes,” Summer agreed. Then, turning to Twilight and Spike, she said, “I think it’s best we part ways, now. We do not know what might have happened to your bodies since entering my realm.”

Twilight opened her mouth to protest, to give voice to the dozens of burning questions in her mind about Summer Cloud’s experience under Celestia’s tutelage and Equestria’s history, but then remembered just how easily a mishap could leave them permanently stuck there with no bodies to return to. One loose brick or a wandering predator, and…

“Okay, but what about you? Don’t you even want to know what’s been going on in the rest of Equestria? What will you do now?”

Summer winced. “I desire to learn more, but not at the price of the vain hope that will surely follow. And as for your other question; I served as Head Librarian under Their Royal Highnesses, and I have served as scribe, steward and librarian here for centuries; I see no reason to stop now.”

“I—I guess that’s something.” Twilight looked away and scratched the back of her head. “So, how do we get out?”

“I can untangle your astral forms from this projection. I’m afraid I cannot do anything about the pain, though.”

“Wait.” Spike planted himself firmly between Twilight and Summer. “What pain?”

Twilight frowned. “So that’s what it was. You tried to banish me earlier, didn’t you?”

Summer nodded. “Yes. Except that this time, I will do it as gently as I can. I’ll apologise in advance for any pain I might still inflict.”

“Uh, Twi, what’s she talking about?” Spike asked with a frown. “I really don’t like the sound of that.”

“Neither do I, but I know no other way to free you. Now, are you both ready?”

Twilight didn’t answer straight away. She gazed at Summer Cloud, searching for any hint of deceit or ulterior motives, but her drooping ears, sagging shoulders and tear-streaked face spoke of somepony simply too tired and worn to bother with guile. Her conscience demanded to help Summer instead of leaving her alone in her nightmare again, but then she also remembered that she had a duty to Spike and her friends. She could not risk an extended stay.

I’m sorry.

Twilight wrapped a foreleg around Spike and drew him close. “It’s okay. We’ll be all right.” After taking a moment to steel herself for the experience, she sighed and nodded to Summer Cloud. “Ready as we’ll ever be. Do it.”

Summer glanced at Parch Mint. “I’m sorry. I should’ve done the same for you ages ago.”

He waved it off and gestured for her to get on with it. “Eh, I’ll live. Now send them home before we tempt fate any further.”

Summer’s horn glowed. “Farewell, Twilight Sparkle and Spike.”

Twilight flinched when her magic connected. The twisting, unravelling sensation returned, except that this time it felt closer to a really bad case of pulled muscle or pins and needles than pulling teeth without anaesthetic. Spike grunted and groaned but otherwise made no other complaint as he scrunched his eyes shut and balled his hands into fists.

She winced and shook her head, but it didn’t help with the dizziness. Black spots and bluish lights hovered at the corners of her vision, hinting at shapes and forms just outside her perception. Her jaw hung slightly when she looked down and realised that she could see the floor through her forelegs; her whole body had become translucent. She wasn’t sure whether to be thankful or disappointed that it didn’t show any internal organs, because that would’ve been fascinating, if more than a bit gross.

It got increasingly harder to focus. Just as her extremities started fading away entirely, she cried out, “I promise: we’ll find a way to help you!”

Summer gave her a sad smile. “Forgive me for not raising my hopes. Fare thee well.”

“Best of luck, smart filly!” Parch Mint called out, waving goodbye.

A pit opened up beneath her and Spike, and the world went dark as they fell.

* * * * *

Twilight gasped and sat upright, surrounded by spectres.

What?

She shivered and rubbed at her gummy eyes. As her vision cleared, she glimpsed bookshelves and stone arches shrouded in shadows, with shafts of cold, blue light here and there. A few minutes more, and she recognised her resting spot in an alcove overlooking the main aisles of the castle library.

“Brrr. What happened?” Spike groggily asked, stifling a yawn. Then, he blinked as he took note of their surroundings. “Uh… how long was I out for?”

Judging by the chilling ambient temperature, blue light and fog obscuring much of the lower level, Twilight placed the time as somewhere just before dawn.

“Sun will be up soon, I think,” she said, then frowned. “Don’t know why we decided to stay the night, though. What were we thinking?”

Spike shivered again, and Twilight responded by casting a thermal spell to raise the ambient temperature to something a little more comfortable. She sighed in satisfaction when warm air soaked through her coat and slumped down to cuddle with Spike.

“Oh hey, what’s with the clingy stuff?” he asked.

Twilight smiled, noting that he hadn’t asked her to stop, though. “Don’t know. Just felt like the right thing to do, for some reason.”

“Right. Uh, are we going home now?”

“Well, I don’t really feel like flying until we get a little more light outside. I suppose we can just wait until Princess Celestia brings up the sun.”

“I’m kinda hungry.”

Twilight’s stomach rumbled in agreement.

She chuckled. “Well, let’s see what we’ve got.”

As Twilight rummaged through her saddlebags, she noted the distinct lack of a certain journal that she’d come to retrieve in the first place. They’d already searched the whole place, hadn’t they? They must’ve, having spent the entire day and night in the old castle. Still, something else nagged at the back of her mind, just out of reach.

Something probably important that I won’t remember until I’ve gone all the way back to Ponyville...

Twilight fished out a pack of leftover cookies and passed it to Spike, who started munching away appreciatively. She then settled down and nibbled at hers slowly as she gazed at the cloudy sky through gaping holes in the arched ceiling. A spider stalked across one of the gaps on its nearly invisible web, and Twilight frowned when she noticed the starburst marking on its abdomen.

Wait a minute...

The memories came trickling back at first, starting with the spiders. Spike falling unconscious. Her pursuit into the astral projection. Parch Mint. Summer Cloud. The trickle turned into a flood…

“Uh, Twi?”

Twilight felt a bit of drool at the corner of her mouth and hastily wiped it away as she turned to find Spike staring at her.

“You okay?” he asked. “You kind of spaced out for a while back there.”

“I…”

This isn’t a fever dream, is it?

Everything had felt real enough. And unlike those dreams that one just vaguely remembered after waking up, the details of which continued to slip away the longer one stayed awake, these kept growing in clarity the more she thought about it.

“All right. You’re kind of weirding me out right now,” Spike declared. She heard him shiver. “Also, something feels wrong about this place.”

“You’ve said that before…” she whispered.

“Eh?”

Twilight raised her foreleg and inspected her fetlock. The skin underneath her coat felt a little swollen and itchy. Without saying a word, she went over to Spike and inspected his shoulders.

“Whoa, what gives?”

“Just give me a moment.”

She found a little lump under his scales, where a star spider must’ve bitten him. She then sat on her haunches and swept her gaze over the library, drowning in the flood of resurfacing memories. Gradually, she managed to tune out her thoughts and focus on the silence filling the castle. In the gaps between Spike’s concerned queries, she could just make out indistinct sighs and whispers, overlaid with faint outlines of figures and stretching hallways.

Summer Cloud.

Maybe she’d found the reason nopony had ever spoken of her. It seemed easy enough to dismiss everything as a dream after waking up like that, and she wouldn’t blame anypony for coming to that conclusion. Heck, the average pony might even fare worse from the combined effects of astral displacement and spider venom, unlike an alicorn and a dragon.

This hypothesis requires more testing. Later, though.

“Spike, I’ve changed my mind. We’re going back to Ponyville right now.”

He blinked. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain on the way. The last thing we need is a relapse.”

Without further protest, Spike hopped onto her back and she leapt into the air, rising up and out of the castle through a gap in the roofing. And this time, they managed to cross the boundary of the castle grounds, soaring over the dark, misty forest as they made their way back home.

* * * * *

Dear Princess Celestia,

Today I learned that even though I’m the princess of friendship, it doesn’t mean that I can be everypony’s friend, and there are some friendship problems beyond my ability to solve. The world doesn’t revolve around me.

Yesterday, Spike and I met a subject of yours who has shown more dedication and loyalty in her service to you than anypony I have ever known, both in life and in history. Her name is Summer Cloud. I hope you remember who she is.

No, there was no time travel involved.

But she is in trouble, and I think you of all ponies are the only one who can reach out to her. I know there’s the big harvest festival event tomorrow, but if there’s ever a time to skip stuff like that for personal reasons, this would be it.

Summer Cloud needs you.

Still your faithful student,

Twilight Sparkle

P.S.: You’ll want to hear the rest of this in person, and so will Princess Luna. I’ll reach Canterlot by sundown.

Chapter 6

“Princess, are you all right?” Twilight asked.

“I… yes, I am fine,” Celestia replied, staring at the dark, empty great hall.

“Umm…”

Celestia sighed and gave her a weak smile. “Well, not entirely. This place brings up memories. Most of them wonderful, but a few of them are exceptionally… hurtful.”

Twilight nodded. “Yeah, I think I get the idea.”

They left the comforting warmth of the morning sun and trotted inside. The place had seen some rain recently; a few glistening pools of grimy water remained on the uneven flooring, and Twilight shivered a little when a few chilling drops fell from the ceiling and soaked into her coat.

“This is the place?” Celestia asked when they reached the ruined library.

“Yes. Watch out for the spiders.”

As if on cue, a star spider skittered across the floor between two bookshelves. But before it could reach the shadows, Celestia plucked it into the air with her magic and levitated it close for inspection. It didn’t seem to mind as she turned it this way and that, as if inspecting a rather fine piece of jewellery.

“Hmm…”

“What is it?”

I believe I might have an idea of how you all managed to escape the projection the first time,” Celestia released the spider, then turned to Twilight. “Did your friends confirm having any bites?”

“Well, Applejack, Fluttershy and Rarity did. Dash and Pinkie couldn’t say for sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they got milder ones that went away quickly.” Twilight frowned. “But that only indicates the mechanism of our entry, not our escape.”

Celestia nodded sagely. “True, but it’s also possible that you didn’t integrate with the projection the first time around. When the venom wore off, so did your sensitivity and ability remain within the projection. You must’ve done something quite differently in your second trip there.”

“Well, we actually talked to Summer the second time.”

“And if she really is that closely tied to the projection, then that could’ve sealed you and Spike in,” Celestia concluded. “Either that, or restoring the Tree of Harmony has affected the nature of magic in this area, allowing you to remember when others have simply forgotten.”

“Either way, I guess it’s a good thing we got through to her, then.” She shivered. “I can’t imagine staying in there for so long, forgotten every time…”

Celestia gestured forward with a wing. “Shall we?”

Twilight nodded and trotted deeper into the library with her, listening for the tell-tale ghostly whispers and eerie wind. Sure enough, when they slowed their pace and lightened their steps, she felt the pervasive wrongness that Summer Cloud’s pocket reality asserted on the waking world.

“Can you feel it?” she asked.

“Yes. There’s definitely a stable rift around here. Just give me a moment.”

Twilight followed in silence as Celestia stalked about the ruined library with her eyes closed and horn aglow, deftly avoiding debris and puddles of grime as she searched for something that only she could sense. She meandered here and there, slowly drawing closer to what Twilight recognised as the remains of Summer Cloud’s private study. Parts of the ceiling had caved in, and a couple of twisted vines had set their roots down between the cracked stone blocks.

Eventually, Celestia halted and sat on her haunches.

“This looks like a good place to start. Are you ready to join me?”

Twilight released a breath that came out in a cloud and then mumbled an affirmative as she sat down beside her mentor.

Celestia nodded, and the golden aura around her horn intensified to a brilliant halo that drove away the shadows, even around corners and angles. Twilight felt her cast a safety ward, one that would alert her of any impending threats to their physical bodies whilst their minds wandered the astral projection, followed by a more complex weave that would supposedly enable them to enter without the aid of any spider venom.

The light flooded the immediate area, engulfing everything until she couldn’t make out solid objects anymore. A wave of vertigo washed over her, and the blinding light dimmed to tolerable levels, revealing the ethereal library from her memories. Unlike the real world, though, it had the dreary ambience and lighting of an evening with the promise of heavy rain. The moaning winds outside the walls echoed throughout the dim library, and cold drafts played with the flickering flames of ensconced torches.

It took her a moment to gain her bearings, but Twilight soon managed to plot their vector to Summer Cloud’s study that should hopefully avoid any unwanted surprises in the shadows. She set off at a brisk trot, and caught a glimpse of Celestia reluctantly taking her eyes off the shelves to follow along.

They found the room in a much better state than she remembered. Nearly everything had been put back in place and cleaned up, save for the bookshelf that Spike had incinerated. She found no trace of the grey mare as she entered, though.

“She always did like spending time in this place. It’s almost exactly as I remember a thousand years ago.” Celestia chuckled and pointed at the griffon skull perched atop one of the cupboards. “I can’t believe she’s even kept old Gerard in here.”

Twilight arched an eyebrow.

Okay, never mind. You can ask about the creepy skull later. Where is she?

She trotted back out, wondering if Summer had somehow managed to leave on her own, only to yelp when a mountain of books floated round the corner of an aisle and threatened to flatten her.

“Yikes!” She just about managed to brake in time.

The glowing stack, easily twice the height of a regular pony, shifted to the side to reveal a pair of amber eyes.

Summer Cloud blinked. “Twilight Sparkle? Why in the world have you come back? Did I not tell you to—”

Her flustered gaze flicked past Twilight, and her jaw suddenly went slack. Her ears drooped, and her horn’s aura winked out, leaving the several dozen volumes in the air at the mercy of gravity.

Twilight gasped and grabbed them with her own magic to save them from scattering all over the floor, then turned to find Summer staring at Celestia, working her mouth like a goldfish out of water.

Celestia smiled and inclined her head a tiny bit. “Hello, my little pony.”

Summer hesitantly took a step forward, trembling. “I—you…”

“It’s been too long.”

A choking noise escaped Summer, and she grit her teeth and scrunched her glistening eyes shut. Then, she exploded into motion, dashing towards Celestia like a mare dying of thirst to water. Twilight winced at the rather hefty impact, but neither of them seemed to have minded. Celestia embraced her with both wings, and a smothered wail came through, followed by heart-rending sobs as Summer shook and shivered with her face pressed to Celestia’s chest, holding her tightly with both forelegs as if she might disappear forever if she dared to let go.

Umm…

Twilight shuffled uneasily in place as the crying continued. After a moment, she decided to make herself useful and carefully placed the stack of books on the cleanest bit of flooring she could find before retreating.

“I’ll just… uh, I’ll be over there, somewhere,” she whispered, gesturing vaguely with a hoof.

Celestia glanced at her and nodded an affirmative, gently patting Summer on the shoulder.

Twilight wandered off by herself and browsed through books at random. She couldn’t effectively absorb anything she read, though; her mind churned with thoughts of what Summer and Celestia might be saying to each other, and what she might say if she had been the one left alone for centuries in an astral projection.

“Well, fancy seeing you back here, Twilight.”

Okay, not exactly alone.

She turned and smiled at the bearded stallion. “Hi, professor.”

Parch Mint grinned back. “I’ll admit that I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”

“I did make a promise.”

“So had others before you, but you’re the only one to have made good on your word.”

Twilight frowned. “I’m not sure if we can really blame them. The magic of this place—”

“Ah, I don’t mean to call their honesty or resolve into question,” he said, waving a hoof. “But that’s not important right now. I’m certain that we’ll have more to discuss regarding what the princess would have us do now that she’s found us.”

Twilight wanted to reassure that they would find a way to free him and Summer, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. Celestia’s expertise on astral projections far outweighed hers, but even she had not willingly given any indication of possible solutions when pressed for details. And she already knew how much false hope could hurt.

“I… I’m sure we can work something out,” she eventually said.

“Doubtless.” He smiled and gestured down the aisle. “In the meantime, would you care for a little chat while Summer gets reacquainted with her teacher? Now that I have access to the rest of the library, I would very much like your comments on some points on thaumaturgy that I never got to see tested in my lifetime. I’ve got a very comfortable, proper workplace to call my own, now.”

Straining her ears, she could still hear faint echoes coming from the study. She couldn’t quite make out the words, but they definitely did not sound ready for more company anytime soon.

Might as well.

“Yeah, I think I’ve got some time.”

* * * * *

“Anyway, that’s why we preferred the leyline inversion technique for transmutations. It allowed a single unicorn to bypass the limitations of Haymaker’s Equation and cast the spell alone,” concluded Parch Mint. He then raised an eyebrow when Twilight continued to frown. “Eh? Something the matter?”

“Yeah. I think that went out of practice soon after you disappeared. Your associates had other ideas on how to do it.”

“Were they better?”

She shook her head. “Not for sixty years, I think. And not long after they perfected it, somepony came along and did it your way and revolutionised the practice almost overnight.”

“Hah! Brilliant!” He thumped his hoof triumphantly on the table between them, and then his grin soured. “Huh. I don’t suppose they ever credited my work?”

Twilight shifted a little in her seat. “Well, Pristine Ember did admit that it wasn’t entirely her idea, but I don’t recall her explicitly naming you in any of her research. Sorry.”

Parch Mint rolled his eyes. “Typical youngsters; they never bother to get their citations right.” He then sighed, sinking into his couch as he gazed at the vaulted ceiling above them. “What I wouldn’t give to have a class again. Not that I overly like rowdy upstarts, but I miss straightening them out and teaching them to fear deadlines.” He cackled.

Teaching…

Twilight scratched the back of her neck as she gazed at their surroundings, taking in the dimensions of his rather spacious study. With a little rearrangement of the bookshelves and a few desks, they could make it work…

“You know,” she said slowly, watching for his reaction. “That’s not a bad idea.”

“Eh?”

She smirked. “Would you really like to have a class again? Princess Celestia has a more reliable way of bringing ponies in and out of this projection; I’m sure there are plenty of ponies from Canterlot University – and all other universities, come to think of it – who would jump at the chance to learn history and magic from you, once they know exactly where and when you’re from.”

Parch Mint’s eyes widened and gleamed. He drew in a sharp breath and raised a foreleg, but midway through the gesture, he placed it back on the table and exhaled, schooling his burst of excitement down to something more dignified. “Now, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’ll admit that the idea kicks my heart rate up like no other, but let’s make sure that the princess is amenable to the arrangement before I get my hopes up, eh?”

Twilight nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, I suppose.”

She glanced out the window, but the stormy weather still hid the sun, and she couldn’t quite remember how much time had elapsed since they’d begun their discussion. Turning back to Parch Mint, she said, “Well, I think they should be done catching up by now. We should see what they’re up to.”

“Agreed. Follow me.”

She trotted after him back to Summer Cloud’s study, and they found the door closed when they got there. Twilight couldn’t hear their voices – probably the result of a bubble of silence – so she knocked on the door gently, then louder again when nopony answered.

“Just a moment.”

The bolt scraped out of its slot, and the heavy door slowly creaked open, revealing the candlelit interior and a rather puffy-eyed Summer Cloud. Celestia’s eyes looked a little red, too. They both sat on resplendent cushions placed on the floor, surrounded by neatly-arranged stacks of tomes and unfurled scrolls, like a pair of academicians in the midst of all-engrossing research.

Princess Celestia smiled at them as she gestured with a wing to another pair of cushions that had appeared in the room. “Sorry for forgetting about you, Twilight. Care to join us?” To Parch Mint, she added, “Summer has told me about you, but I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

Parch Mint bowed. “Evening, your Highness. It’s not often we get royalty here.”

Twilight tuned out their chatter for a moment, staring at the floor as she pondered on how to broach the topic of opening up Everfree’s hidden library to other ponies, but a shadow suddenly fell across her path to the cushion. Looking up, she found Summer Cloud by her side, shifting a little uneasily as if uncertain on how exactly she needed to behave. She caught her eyeing her wings every now and then.

“Princess Twilight, I… I have something to say to you.”

“Go ahead. Also, just call me Twilight and leave out the bowing.”

“Very well. I just—I’m sorry for mistreating you and Spike. I’m sorry for nearly cursing you with the same wretched fate as mine.” She leaned in close and whispered, “And from one of Celestia’s apprentice to another, thank you for keeping your promise, even after I had scoffed at and derided your conviction. Thank you for hel—” She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “…thank you for leading Princess Celestia to me.”

Summer Cloud hugged her tightly, and after getting over her surprise, Twilight reciprocated feeling a little teary herself.

“If there is ever anything you need, Twilight, if it is within my power, ask and I will do my best to repay your kindness.”

Twilight eased out of the hug and smiled at Summer. “You don’t have to keep it hanging over your head, but I appreciate it. I’ll remember to—”

She paused for a moment, then rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Actually, now that you mention it, we could use your help with something.”

“Name it.”

Twilight glanced at Celestia and lifted a hoof to forestall further questions from Summer and Parch Mint. “First, I’ll need to check something with her.”

Celestia chuckled. “Well, now is as good a time as any to lay out plans. But before you do,” – here, she levitated a sizeable plate laden with an assortment of pastries over to Twilight – “would you care for something to nibble?”

“Wow. Just a nibble, huh?” Twilight stared at the honeyed scones, caramel-glazed apples and thick slices of criminally rich chocolate cake, then blinked and gave Celestia a look as she took the smallest piece she dared.

“I believe I’ve gotten the hang of this place’s oddly flexible wish-granting functions,” Celestia said with what Twilight could almost categorise as a smirk. “Also, I’m not afraid to dream big.”

Parch Mint chuckled when Twilight raised an eyebrow at that comment. “Heh, I like this princess. I like this princess a lot.”

“You were about to ask me something, Twilight?” Celestia prompted.

She swallowed her mouthful of cake and nodded. “If you could teach that spell for entering this plane to me or other unicorns, I think we could keep a steady schedule of visitors to Everfree Castle. Since this place has hundreds of out-of-print books that I’m pretty sure can’t be found anywhere else, we’re going to have lots of ponies tripping over themselves to catalogue and transcribe them into hard copies once again.”

Twilight tapped her hooves together, blushing as her quavering voice betrayed her excitement. “There aren’t many things I wouldn’t give up to get a chance like that. Also, I’m sure that Parch Mint and Summer Cloud would make amazing lecturers; we could organise study trips here! If you could spare some guards and staff to keep the corporeal side of Everfree safe and hospitable, of course. Given time, we could even restore the castle!”

Summer Cloud’s eyes widened. “Wait, but that would mean…”

“Exactly what it implies.” Parch Mint chuckled and waggled his eyebrows at her. “Be careful what you wish for, because now you’re going to have to fend off a hundred greasy-hooved archaeologists and historians from your precious books. Not to mention students who don’t know squat about returning books on time and to the right shelves.”

“It’s certainly doable. Once I’ve hashed out the logistics with everypony involved, it shouldn’t be too hard to get an outpost up and running, and a skilled unicorn can manage the necessary spellwork to bring ponies in and out of this place,” said Celestia. She smiled at Summer’s apparent trepidation and added, “Only if you find the extra company agreeable, of course. I imagine that would be quite a shift from your usual fare.”

“Well, I for one cannot wait to start filling up this generation’s empty skulls with something useful,” Parch Mint declared with a mean glint in his eyes. “Also, I’m quite certain that I get to be the first undead professor in the last five hundred years!”

Twilight frowned. “I wouldn’t exactly categorise your condition as undead, but—”

“Eh, it’s close enough. I can’t die and I’m not alive in any conventional sense.”

Summer Cloud nodded in agreement, but then turned to Celestia and rather tentatively asked, “Is there any chance that you know how to restore us?”

Celestia’s casual cheer faltered a bit as she shifted uneasily. “I’m afraid not, my faithful apprentice. I know of no spell that can restore either of you back to living, breathing bodies. I can check with the professors at Canterlot University, but I would ask you to temper your expectations on any possible avenues of research. This branch of magic hasn’t lost much of its taboo since your time.”

That got a little sigh from Summer. “Well, I cannot complain. This is still far more than I could have expected.” Then she smiled at Twilight and Celestia. “Just give me some time to prepare myself; I would be happy to continue serving as librarian and welcome anypony you see fit to bring to these forgotten halls. I will see to it that Everfree Library is worthy of its name once more.”

Twilight’s smile widened. “That’s wonderful! Just think about how much we could learn from each other.”

“More importantly, I think you’ve made some friends,” Celestia added. When Twilight and Summer nodded in agreement, she levitated the platter of confectionaries closer and added, “Now, let’s not these perfectly good treats go to waste. I’d love to hear more of anything you ponies have learnt or accomplished in your time here, as I’m sure you’d love to find out more of the outside world.”

Oh.

Despite herself, Twilight couldn’t help feeling a minor twinge of disappointment that they weren’t going to start working on the logistics of restoring Everfree straight away instead of making small talk. She already had several checklists and contingency plans all drawn up inside her head, begging to be put on paper. Some of it must’ve shown on her face, because Parch Mint suddenly grinned at her.

“Can’t wait to get started, eh?” he asked.

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to wait a bit, I guess.”

“Well, just between you alicorns and us deathless wraiths, I think it’s a price we can afford.” He then raised his cup of tea. “After an age of sitting alone in the shadows, I think that having a real friend to talk with, on the other hoof, is priceless.”

Celestia chuckled and raised her tea as well. “To friends.”

As one, they raised their cups.

“To friends.”

Author's Note

It's finally done. :derpytongue2:

Man, this was one of the hardest stories to finish, in no small part due to poor planning and losing some interest along the way from a long hiatus. Still glad I saw it through to the end, though, and I'm sorry if it doesn't live up to expectations.

I wonder, though. How many of you recognised Summer Cloud? Did it distract or improve your reading experience? At the very least, I'd like to learn from this in writing characters from other stories and making sure that they're memorable for returning readers, yet still accessible for new readers.