Arcana's Wrath

Chapters

Chapter 2: Kismet
Chapter 3: Iridaceae
Chapter 4: Ashen
Chapter 5: 3.14159265358979323846264338327950288419716939
Intermission: The Bet
Chapter 6: Groundwork
Chapter 7: Caravan
Chapter 8: Charm
Chapter 9: Reuinion
Chapter 10: Refection
Chapter 11: Lunar Aspiration
Chapter 12: Labyrinth
Chapter 13: Graveyard
Chapter 14: Dissappearance
Chapter 15: Foramen
Chapter 1: Water In The Dark

Chapter 2: Kismet

Lightning Strike had become one of the most talked about names in the musical world, having risen to a vague and shadowy status as a musician gifted with talents more magical than any known to Canterlot. The streets were never truly abuzz with the name, for there was little in the way of solid information, but there was talk, when talk of music did occur, of a rising star who could pull her music from the fibers of a pony’s being or even draw upon the history of a thing or place and weave the sounds they had heard.

Enchantments of this sort were no ones specialty. Only scholars and the immortal could tell about the last pony with such tremendous musical talent, for she had died several centuries in the past, long enough even for such a remarkable talent to pass to myth or sheer, opaque obscurity. What the culmination of these facts amounted to was a great and gaping lack of anyone versed enough in the art to aid this ‘rising star’ to anything higher than an average guitarist.

That was not to say, however, that the kingdom had not put a considerable sum of money towards trying just that. Several dozen potential tutors vied in silence against one another for the honor until the donation finally went to a young mare in her mid-twenties: Octavia Von Clef. Those few who knew of the decision considered it more than a little controversial, as there was a good deal of conspiracy surrounding the cellist herself, including her possible involvement with Vinyl Scratch, a disc jockey of some repute.

But possible filly-fooling intentions seemed little on the mind of the royalty, and even if it was she looked nothing like the stereotype. Octavia had been moved from her villa in Canterlot to a small suite in a little country town called Ponyville, a name about as original as the name for sunset colored citrus. It was, above all, a poor fit for the mare, but unknown to most she had some roots back there herself, long ago in the days when she had still considered the countess Lapis Lazuli a mother figure.

Hardship, dark rumors, an altogether tooth and hoof struggle to become one of the most popular classical musicians of modern times had culminated to something she at last might be brought into history for, the tutelage of a red coated filly with a talent of sky shattering rarity. Octavia felt almost as though she ought to feel more grateful, sitting across from the filly in an old brick burger joint, enjoying onion rings and the vegetable sandwiches. She was still very young, just having entered her tenth year and even with Octavia’s many talents; child care did not fall among them.

The filly in question was a tad bit on the extraordinary side before an observer even got to her talent. While her coat was a deep color known locally as the farmer’s red, her mane was an electric explosion of violent cyan (a trait which reminded Octavia at times of a certain ‘friend’ back home) and it clashed terribly with her coat. She also had a penchant for wearing sunglasses, which never seemed to be in her size and tended to fall off her face whenever the need for movement came about. When she was stagnant though, they concealed very well eyes of a classy emerald hue.

Three hundred and sixty four days out of the four seasons she wore an attitude befitting of her appearance, sassy, bossy, crazy; give an adjective ending with the letter Y and you’d have her pegged. Though hyper would have to be thrown on the list. She was a preteen, the terrible stage in which a foal starts the fight for their own mental independence and loses the first charge dramatically and yet still would retain the curiosity and energy of the very young and spritely. Lightning was Discord’s grab bag of the worst of both sides, believing she ruled the world and everything in it, unashamed when corrected, and exuberant when correct. But every year there was one day which would cause something of a sulk. It was not a specific date, simply a questionable time anywhere in the month of August, and when it did come about it was something her tutor was ill-prepared to cope with.

“So…” said the cellist, passing a partially drunk tea cup from hoof to hoof, “What did you think of Twilight’s castle? Any music you could draw from it?”

Lightning sighed, slumping until her hair made like water rushing over the countertop “We went over this,” she spoke in dry words “There were only two songs, Let The Rainbow Remind You and some old ditty I think a trader whistled while he was out there before the castle was built.”

Octavia was accustomed to snark, and this showed a disturbing lack of it. The words still belonged to Lightning, so of course it trailed there, but she lacked her usual energy, seeming wan rather than self-assured.

“Well, I was merely making note again,” she said. She was at a loss now, too used to the conversation being a series of corrections of childish mistakes to know how to carry it on a purely intellectual basis.

“You don’t have to keep trying to talk to me Octavia,” said Lightning. Rude, yes, but the snark was still woefully absent “Nothing really special happened today, there’s nothing important to say.”

“Will you be needing your receipt ladies?” muscular, bearded Cider Tapper, the proprietor of the restaurant, startled Octavia out of her planned reply about how one ought not to talk to a teacher that way under any circumstance. She politely accepted, then declined a dessert, perturbed again by the lack of protest, and by the time he moved away with her bits, the train of her thought had been derailed, and the oil tanker had obliterated the tracks.

“Look, Lightning,” she said, tactic in a clichéd alteration “Don’t pass this off, dear, something is clearly wr-“

Cut short, Octavia suddenly locked eyes with the filly, closer than comfort dictated, for she had clambered onto the table in a barely contained fury “Don’t call me ‘dear’ alright?” she hissed “I don’t want to hear any sort of nicknames, I’m through with it.”

Octavia’s speech evaporated as patron’s eyes came to them in expressions of confusion and curiosity. Lightning had been annoyed at the occasional nickname before, reluctant to get comfortable with anyone it seemed. This, on the other hoof, was something she had never expected of her pupil.

And in the next moment Lightning looked down. “We should go,” she said, mist veiling her words “I don’t want to cause a scene.”

Maturity in the face of a lost temper: there was a turnabout the refined mare had never expected to see in her. Lightning walked calmly out of the building, curious stares a few paces behind her all the way. Octavia was left, blank white shock on the mind, to wonder what in Equestria had brought the little filly to such an attitude. She suspected loneliness might be the root of the problem; she had been pulled from the schooling program after her talent had been discovered and even when she had participated in the program she had come to disagreements with the other foals on a regular basis. The poor dear’s luck of friends seemed a suitable reason for violent mood swings, but to be so subdued? It seemed unusual.

But it was none of her business, no matter how close to the mark she fell with the suspicion, Lightning’s thoughts weren’t far off. If she were still being schooled it would be the first day, a day plagued with memories that triggered in the emotions that younger ponies out not to be suffering through. Loneliness? That wasn’t even a surface scratcher, a shovel might be the term isolation, and a pickaxe abandonment. It was on this day the filly had met one of her nearest and dearest friends, a brother figure even, where her own brother served as a guardian. Four years ago, back when Twilight’s ascension had been hot news was the last time she had seen him, a thrilling venture leaving her comatose in a hospital bed, and then a recovery shrouded in mystery, but those events were all wrapped up in stories of what she thought as earlier ventures.

All she could think of, all she was forced to remember on this date, was that she hadn’t heard a single word from Shadow Chaser since the incident. Her brother, she felt, was withholding things from her at first and his deferment from the Royal Guard made her suspect. But as time wore on the vanishing scrolls and passive comments had dwindled, the things to hide shriveling as avoidance of the thought of Canterlot became a simpler task.

Whatever the process that brought her to this point Lightning now found herself among other things, alone, lost in a world that she was incapable of getting along with. The guitar at home and her now famous talent were the only things she really felt fulfilled with any longer, the “Let the rainbow remind you” ditty was still stuck in her head as she approached the medium sized cottage, paid for in part by her grant and in part by the elder Strike’s new career in the orchards-- a career with half the salary as his previous guard’s position. Still, she couldn’t complain, with the added endowment of the arts money things were just as good as they ever were.

Her hoof had just touched upon the top step when a warped atonal voice broke trough her thought process “Miss Strike!” the bubbly call of the gray coated, blonde haired mane broke her reverie “I’m so sorry! When I passed your house this morning I forgot to give you something!”

At least Lightning wasn’t in too much of a sulk to know how to deal with this, forcing a tired smile and accepting the envelope. “Thanks Derpy,” she said, waving the ditzy mail mare off as she examined it: a fancy paper, addressed directly to her rather than Sabre. This meant it wasn’t another declined application offer from the guard, but more likely some fan mail from a lucky stomper who had found her address. She opened it rather carelessly, leaning on the wall next to the door as her eyes flitted carelessly over the note.

“Dear, Ms. Strike.” She read in silence, scoffing at the formal attitude by which she was addressed “By request of the Lunar Princess the castle would be honored to cordially invite you to the eleventh birthday celebration of Duke Shadow Chaser as a service of musical entertainment. Payment may be negotiated through the Royal Endowment for the Arts but a raise, not exceeding an annual five thousand bits, would be guaranteed upon the completion of the service. We hope to see you this December!” the letter, short and savory, not quite sweet, was signed in the same writing she had seen a thousand times on the endowment checks, and then followed by several others whom she assumed were event planners or other staff.

Duke Shadow Chaser. It clicked after a few minute’s delay and Lightning realized with an amazed start the weight this letter carried. Not only would this event be in Canterlot, a place notorious for its fickle selection of talent, but a job specifically catering to the colt whose absence she had been mourning throughout the day. The pity was the same as ever though; Sabre would adamantly refuse any suggestion of a visit to Equestria’s capital city on terms that were never quite clear to her. As astonishing as the job seemed, it was just not going to happen.

Lightning held onto the seal-broken envelope as she walked inside, without a saddlebag she really didn’t have any other choice. She was tentative and on edge when she saw today was not one of her brother’s longer shift days, for the broad shouldered earth pony was slouched on the sofa as a Mythbucker’s episode played on the set before him.

“Hey sis!” he called, thankfully not even bothering to look back at her as his voice rose about the volume of the box “How was practice?”

“Fine!” she called, inching her way towards her room in as silent a way as she was able “We had a visit of the new palace now that it’s finally open to visitors, but we only got one song out of it!”

“Well that’s a disappointment,” said Sabre, clapping at a display of a particularly violent explosion on the screen “I’m sure they’ll break out on some random numbers here and there you know? I would take another visit in a few months.” Sabre only had a rudimentary idea of how his sister’s talent functioned, though he was still able to provide some tactical input.

“Hope so!” said Lightning, giving a dope shot of sunshine to her tone “And hey bro, Octavia was thinking about taking me to,” a pause, she prayed would be viewed as memory rather than imagination “Trottingham! This December, we’ve got a job offer out, we don’t know if I’m going to take it just, you know, letting you know.”

“Well just tell me if and when you’re going when you get that all sorted, oh, and how long you’ll be there,” said Sabre, which was his way of asking how long he’d be able to rent out her room.

“Nothing set in stone yet,” said Lightning, the liar’s stone dragging her stomach down “but it will be later this winter, so have me do some laundry when Corn Season rolls around.” She teased, inching towards her room.

“Oh come on!” said Sabre, releasing a low chuckle “I know it’s a confangled contraption but do you really think I can’t use the washing machine?”

“I’ve never seen you do it!” Lightning jeered, her front hooves in the doorway “And you sound like an old man!” and good phrase to end on, she managed to slip into the safety of her room, sighing as she stuffed the invitation beneath her pillow.

The room itself wasn’t fantastic, but it was more than a welcome change from the block like apartment she once believed qualified as a whole house. It was spacious; the most obvious change was more furniture. The second one, which she hoped wasn’t nearly as obvious, was the presence of more items she didn’t want her brother finding. The invitation beneath the pillow was a start, but wedged between two books on the shelf were some self-composed sheets of music she hoped no eye would fall on for years to come. The closet housed a few odds and ends including a pocketknife she had won in a bet from one of the school colts and the broken pieces of a glass figurine Sabre had gotten her for her ninth, and which she prayed to Luna he never discovered she broke. Last and perhaps most contraband of all was taped beneath her desk, which she still regaled in lack of its accompanying computing device. That was a high resolution image of Shining Armor, captain of the royal guard. Sure he was married and had thus far utterly failed in his role at every possible turn of events, but those shoulders, those eyes. Oh she could stare at that stallion for hours…

None of this would be considered questionable or out of place by a third party observer, whatever Sabre might have to say about the lot of it, Lightning was a growing filly on the road to maturing into a young mare. Schoolgirl crushes and hidden artwork were normal for a preteen. The contraband weaponry and shattered glass might be looked at as more of a colt’s ordeal but really that had always been her style.

The bed, center back of the room with the desk to the left, was now set upon by the vermilion filly’s back and shoulders. Of the three pillows strewn about it one near at hoof was brought to her chest, covering her galloping heart. She felt nervous and somehow amiss having lied to Sabre like that. In the back of her mind she justified the action, she was a grown mare by now, and surely, capable of making her own decisions whether Sabre thought they were dangerous or not. Celestia knew she was old enough to make her family’s living surely she had the wits about her to stay out of trouble in Canterlot for just a few days.

On the other hoof, would it really be so bad should she not? Ten months of her life, from the first day of school to the middle of the following summer had been a time when she really felt alive, really capable of making a difference in the greater Equestria, she had been to the flipping moon for Luna’s sake! Puns aside, coming close to death may have been a heavy toll to pay for such actions, but the thrill? That had been irreplaceable.

It was more the thought of a return to adventure that now set the young filly’s heart aflutter, far more than any rebuttal by Sabre. After all should she be caught holding information from him she might be grounded for a few days, but it wasn’t like she had much to do with her current freedom anyway, he wouldn’t rob her of her tutor time anyway; her music was paying the bills. But that thought, just out of reach, of the excitement resultant of seeing Shadow again, that was the wellspring from which nervous energy and adrenaline poured.

Outside, in the living room, Sabre pondered in the lieu given by his show’s commercials.

“Why is laundry suddenly necessary…?”

Author's Note

The author's mind has been subdued
I assure you, he will not be joining us again

Chapter 3: Iridaceae

“Mom!” crackling, somewhat wavery, a voice arching out of a hallway within a hollowed home of a tree, graced the ears of the zebra hunched over a bubbling cauldron at the front of the house.

“I am busy dear!” she turned her head, hooves still busy with the ladle before her, the movement of the water within captured and refracted in the countless bottles and shelves which seemed innumerably to line the walls, only broken by the single pump and subsequent pipes leading to the cauldron on which Zecora now worked “If you wish me an inquiry you will have to draw near!”

The dark hallway yielded the clear sound of impatient grumbling, and then a dull blue light as the fungi within responded to the stimulus of breath in nearby. Stomping hoof steps could be followed by ear up the hallway until a much younger zebra, whose foggy purple eyes were narrowed in frustration, stood at the entrance.

“I just wanted to know when dinner was,” she muttered, slouching visibly at the sight of the active cauldron “You know, assuming you ever finish that…”

“Iris, when my work is finished I may aid in your plight,” said Zecora, eyes widening as the clear liquid, presumably water, coagulated into something more paste-like and somehow awkward looking. She cut her sentence short, ducking over to a shelf and procuring a bundle of carrots so yellow they looked as though they were plated in gold “But a customer has placed a very urgent request for a potion to help her see in the night.” She finished only after dropping the whole bunch into the stirring fervently.

“Well great for people who can see,” said Iris, rolling her sightless eyes and walking over to the cauldron, clearly having memorized the terrain very effectively. She stood on her hind legs, still a good deal shorter than her mother even at twice height, and took a heavy whiff of the contents “You didn’t add enough wart of Tartarus, it needs to be four pinches to the ounce, but I think you’ve got almost a pound of carrots in there. The stuff’s still going to be chunky.”

Zecora turned in mild surprise, then looked down, seeming to take some mental calculations “An astute observation,” she said, going over to what appeared to be a pepper grinder full of little red orbs “I would want the highest quality in a potion for our nation’s leader.”

Iris perked up at this one “Celestia?” she asked, wondering if her ears, for the first time ever, had actually deceived her “Doesn’t she have royal alchemists up at the castle? Why in Equestria would she even be talking to you?”

Zecora almost scoffed at this “For her usual chore she might look for another,” she said “But Golden Harvest’s special stock goes to no other. Besides, none is able to make potions with such skill as your mother.”

“Says the one who just got helped by her own daughter,” said Iris, hiding a smirk “You’re not going to forget the crushed ruby are you? A high brow customer deserves the extra staying power.

“Only a fake would make such a mistake,” said Zecora “But the carrots still need time to brew before the crystal powder is added to the stew.”

She looked to her daughter now, feeling a gentle weight pass through her stomach. Iris had changed over the past few years and she wasn’t wholly sure it was for the better. As far as appearance she had grown in a way she had expected, keeping her own hair instead of following the styled tradition, as well as forsaking the customary golden adornment, something that entirely confused her. Perhaps the traditional garb would never appeal to her, it would clash poorly with her anyway and Zecora did admit the mostly black hair looked better falling across her back, the single white streak pleasantly offsetting.

It wasn’t anything in her attire that worried her though, but the way she seemed to have come along in terms of thought. Since her birth she had been somewhat timid, afraid to cause harm inadvertently due to her handicap, but lately she seemed to have wholly moved past that. Blindness apparently wasn’t something she felt she had put up with, but something those around her had to accommodate. In her defense she had improved her mobility drastically to the point at which she had no qualms letting her roam the forest or even Ponyville on her own, but the fact remained she was still not fully capable and she worried about that, maybe a little more than she should.

“Can I make the delivery?” Zecora’s reverie was broken by Iris, ears tilted in her direction which she had learned was the attention equivalent of ‘eyes on me’ “I’ve been to Canterlot before, remember? You could save some bits and I could finally get to go out you know?”

Zecora did a double take at this, backing slowly away from the cauldron almost in shock “Iris,” she said “With your surroundings here you have developed an amity, I fear that should you make such an excursion it would be a calamity.”

“Please?” Iris turned her voice into the desirous whine any parent would recognize in a heartbeat “I promise I’ll be super careful, Canterlot is only an hour by train! If I go in the morning I can be home by lunch! The books say that the city is super simple to navigate and everything. You, like, never let me out of the house!”

“There are reasons I keep you child of mine,” said Zecora, clanking across the cerulean glow of the cauldron “On that occasion when you went to get herbs…”

“I came back just fine,” Iris snapped, her eyes narrowing, unfocused, in a vague “Shook up, maybe, a little frightened, yes, but I was alright wasn’t I? Shadow and his friends helped me a lot…” she trailed off slightly towards the end, a singular filly with a fiery attitude remembered as the exception to this statement...

Zecora, for her part, was still reeling from her daughter’s oddly antagonistic attitude. It was the first time in years they had spoken of the incident which precipitated her heightened sense of protectiveness, and the first time ever she was so shameless to talk about it. Ultimately she found herself shocked into a state of compliance.

“I shall take it into consideration,” she said in a quiet tone, “For now, some extra chores may help your situation…”

Iris felt a little excitement flutter in her chest, this was further than she had ever been able to talk her mother into so far as freedoms ventured. There was an odd lack of victorious emotions in her mind, yet the thrill that she might be exploring was phenomenal.

“Th-thank you mother,” she stammered, a little other previous shyness showing through in the stammer of her voice.

“Will you be aiding me in the potions completion?” Zecora asked, now moving towards the aforementioned ruby dust “Or will you be working downstairs with that odd secretion?”

“It’s puffer fish oil,” said Iris, a smile slipping back to her face “I got it in town from the traveler who gets you some of your rarer stuff. I’ve got kind of a crazy idea…”

The matter was left there, Zecora’s attention going back to the brew as Iris went back down the hall, soft patches of moss coming in contact with her hooves around the solid wooden surfaces. There was a smell of damp about the hall, and that of the fungus she was told illuminated the place. It didn’t matter to her much, and her own small chamber on the left had none of the stuff, she hated the smell anyway, but even here the air tasted damp and slightly mildew from them.

Well it wasn’t as though they had a lot of alternatives without electric lines coming out this far, so she could forgive her mother for that much. Her room was nice enough to atone for such simple sins anyway, a soft bed with spider’s silk sheets, a beginner’s cauldron tucked away in the corner atop a little pile of charcoal over which it could be hung. Most of her current experiments, though, required a little more finesse. Somewhat begrudgingly Zecora had also gotten her a series of tubes and glass bottles used in the finer potion-craft. Here she seated herself and started work with a few vials, water filled to serve as a classic sight, though she desperately wished for other liquids with which to test. Her mother would consider straying from the classic ten potion medium without medical necessity to be a little dicey, but Iris loved to test.

Iris’ tail swished slightly as she began the concoction, cranking a lever to turn the strainer at the top of her assembled sequence and agitate the spores of a tram of Tartarus Warts. Boiling this, along with some more purified puffer fish oil would hopefully produce a newer effect completely apart from the classics.

As she worked with the bottles and assorted tubes she began to hum a sweet little tune, quiet yet somehow heroic in suggestion. Lightning, she supposed, might be able to provide some lyrics for it. She mentally cursed the name again, resigning to come up with something all on her own to spite the very memory.

I know that my time is coming soon

The time comes of the harvest moon

As time leaves a wear on every thought

This is the future that we have wrought

She had begun the ditty as something more melodious than what it ended with, and the end result had come out as more of a witching chant than anything else. The thought prompted a giggle, while it certainly wouldn’t be a renowned melody it was passable, at least somewhat, maybe? She shrugged it off, she couldn’t write songs worth a damn and she knew it.

Oh well, at least with the vaguely chartreuse potion bubbling before her eyes her personal talent would never be called directly into question. She smiled, work was progressing smoothly, by the end of the day she could hope to have a brand new potion.

But now the darn song was stuck in her head…

Author's Note

Hmm, this is a character that was not expected quite to come into play... though I suppose i could make someth- ing - o- f - wh- a- t- ?

Hey guys! It looks like I'm getting through. Not gonna play favorites or anything here but I will say I'm glad to bring back possibly my favorite character (i am an immediate hypocrite and liar), here's hoping the sassy ones don't hear me say that... but hey, just know I may not be in, like, control of the story anymore but that isn't to say I don't have any influence, the world I built is still there, he can't get rid of it, and even I couldn't control my characters, there-s a-ch- a- nce- y-e-t!

-CC

Ignore him, as nice as it'd be fun to listen to the ramblings of a now-lost author, I can assure you things WILL be ending in tragedy...

Chapter 4: Ashen

Winter months were an overbearingly positive time to the town of Appaloosa, primarily because it didn’t really result in much of a change in the weather. Hot to temperate was such a slight alteration that it would go unnoticed in any realistic circumstance. Though the more sensitive members of the town would insist there was a chill in the air. The large advantage of being the one warm place in late November was that the trees, still bearing fruit, were suddenly in high demand.

After the somewhat ridiculous incident a decade or so ago, there was a heightened level of acceptance between the area’s settlers and the natives. Really it was suspected they had always wanted a sort of integration but with the settlement being on property technically granted by the royal family it would’ve been a public relations nightmare. Unicorns and buffalo had been on shaky terms for some centuries now. Earth ponies, thankfully, were able to find a lot more common ground, they were farming people, both of them, as well as people of the earth itself. The ‘incident’ so to speak was more of a staged affair than anything else, advantageous with Celestia’s own protégé to play witness. Even now it was hard to believe it had worked, pies as weapons? Canterlites must have figured Appaloosa was remarkably backwards.

Still, eleven or more years had been spectacular with the assimilation, tepees were erected as often as wooden houses in what seemed less and less like a town and more of a smattering of homes. Business of course flared much like it could be expected with salt bars, bath houses, pony sort of things dominating, though not without a buffalo industry here and there.

As much as the integration might be more a tossed salad than a melting pot, it did lead to a lot of opportunity. It opened lines of trade for buffalo in a market that, thanks to unicorn bureaucrats, was increasingly race driven. The earth ponies, being far more decent people, tried not to take advantage of the situation, but with the assistance of buffalo farming took another, stronger dimension, an association a certain democratic country across the sea could only dream to parallel.

Naturally though, it wasn’t perfect, and seriously nothing ever was. Welcome to the world, there’s always going to be problems, and in this particular part of it there was a visitor, a permanent visitor, one whom the buffalo regarded as a mistake by the ponies, and the ponies a mistake of the others. And then there was the matter that the Equestrian secret service, which never really had reason to come to light in the first place, was putting in a presence to make sure this visitor was kept as one of their own, and to make sure his origin was a quiet matter.

The latter of these wasn’t much more than a joke, the townspeople were too open with one another to really hold a secret, and the person in question was a little too open about it himself. On top of that he was pretty conspicuous, for one, totally unused to the culture, apparently more adjusted to something like a millennially aged structure, and his own appearance was so wildly different from others, not to mention ironic to the point it could be considered a folly of the universe itself.

Or it could be fervent penmanship of an omniscient author who happens to just really not like him.

Even under management different than the one who had handed down such a fate it seemed as though fate was irreversible and the young buffalo in question would come to a pointed and terrifying realization as his fur began to grow in more thickly, a mature mold sometime around age ten.

Now, a year later, things were not going well for him. A full coat was a sign of adulthood, at least enough to work, and he had definite resentment for that. Being the son of a chief had never helped him, ever, and it was an especially worthless title in a tribe that had traded ancient customs in favor of kinship with those short, hornless mongrels. As if that weren’t enough the stampede had fallen from useful to merely ceremonial, meaning it certainly didn’t count as work, which would’ve at least been acceptable. Apple bucking, he would rather have a job picking the thorns out of briar patch than kick alongside the idiot ponies.

One boon came from the work in the orchards, and that was dust. A mess in ones coat was usually totally unnoticed by a buffalo whose fur was of the same color as the ground. For the poor cursed bison with a one in a million color it just felt more like he was blending in. He was white, a curse to be spat on in his mind, setting him apart from others entirely, adding a sense of entitlement to his self-imposed isolation, keeping almost wholly to himself when he wasn’t working or trying to sneak into the salt bar, though he probably would’ve done this anyway given his immeasurable sense of entitlement.

Black Mesa was not one for conversation.

In fact his time in Appaloosa had turned out to be about as remarkably boring and useless as he could ever have imagined. For a chief’s son from the world of the past to be brought across the millennia by a group of young ponies and one blind zebra the new world was shockingly boring, particularly when he was called forward by the word ‘Albino’ more than his actual name. He had his own private suspicions that albinism was not responsible for his awkward chroma anyway, his eyes were orange, firmly orange, even if they might appear red at a distance that was just a normal trait for a buffalo, why it should doom him to being so unusual he would never know.

Whatever the reason, tired of it didn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what he was feeling when he noticed the row of half a dozen wagons lined up near the orchard. It was typical to have one of these on any given day, just for usual shipments at a steady pace and all, but to have a whole caravan? This was something particularly unusual, suggestive of a massive order, probably for a single purpose. Who the hay would need that many apples?

This was precisely the question he posed, speaking to a mustached pony standing by one of the wagons, chosen less because he looked like he was in charge and more because he had a block of salt beside him. Accurate assessment on Mesa’s part at least, the old stallion was anything but lucid, murmuring something about a party. Mesa picked at his mashed potato brains for a little longer, trying to piece together the whole story but he apparently wasn’t going to get much out of him until…

“Canterlot…” Mesa had been about to give upon it before he mumbled to word without prompting “Damn unicorns,” he paused here, releasing a belch “Them’s so darn uppity thinking they can just,” he paused again, this time holding back his release of air “Scuse me… It’s just I ain’t proud of makin’ such a big order all for some fancy do up north…”

“It’s a big waste,” Mesa wasn’t sure he could even be heard through the fog, but agreeing with him could be interesting “What sort of thing is it you’re getting all these pies to Canterlot for?”

The laughter from the stallion didn’t seem particularly warranted, even when he choked the explanation out “It’s a bucking birthday party,” he managed through the drunken laughter “It ain’t for no one important neither! Some Duke! Now I ain’t got a clue what duke means, but if it’s what it sounds like-“

“Thanks,” Mesa cut him off there “Hey, when is the shipment leaving anyway?” the dregs of a crazy idea were hovering in his mind and he half wondered if he would even dare…

“Oh…ten minutes?” the stallion hiccupped again “I’m pulling number four if you’re looking for a ride, but it’ll,” he paused again, eyes going blank for a moment as he tried to collect his thoughts “What was I just saying?”

Well this made his decision a whole lot easier. There were some prominent figures who wanted him to be firmly in place right here in Appaloosa, meaning that leaving would be a pretty big stir. Now, if there was one thing Mesa liked above anything else it was causing trouble. And this was Canterlot they were talking about, and that meant there was one gentle benefit, as much of a grudge he would have for it.

“I have a rich… friend in Canterlot, I’ll make sure you get your extra bits.” He had paused at the title, he certainly did know someone rich, but he hated the guts of that pegasus and was glad for the opportunity to rob him of some cash.

The drunken stallion chuckled once more “Well sonny, I guess you’ve got a ride, just push some pies around and try not to make too much noise.”

Mesa checked himself quickly, he had a small pouch secured to his side that contained a few odds and ends, some ten bits or so, an old brick-like gamecolt with ponymon dusk, something to keep him busy on the trip he supposed. That was enough to make a getaway with he figured so without further ceremony he followed the stallion to the wagon.

“My name’s Bandwagon,” said the stallion, apparently having a short moment of lucidity “I typically like to know at least the name of my cargo.”

Mesa flushed, as he always did when someone asked, knowing that the irony involved in introduction would probably earn laughter from Band for the first half of the journey “Black Mesa,” he said, voice barely audible as he pushed his pale fluff between two stacks of pie into an alcove among the produce.

The following silence surprised him, not a dreg of laughter, just a shrug as Bandwagon equipped himself with the reigns, “Well ain’t that somethin’” he said half to himself “But it’s a weird world we live in, and I’ve seen stranger things than that by far. You situated okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” said Mesa, the lack of ridicule pushing aside his usual need to fire a retort at him, he couldn’t think of anything funny anyway.

Caravan travel was never famous for being a fast, easy, or comfortable way of getting anywhere. What it was famous for, however, was the price, being particularly cheap. The bits Mesa had on him could very well have been enough to buy him a ride to the capital city, but why pay when you can extort after all? Another thing wagon travel was good for, was the ambient time to think. It wasn’t quiet by any means, in fact the creak of wood, scent of canvas, and rough feel beneath the flank was a sensory bombardment. But it was a constant one, and many great western artists and authors would take long carriage trips for the cheap and inspirational environment.

Mesa used the opportunity of time in the wagon to play a video game, one which he had defeated long ago but still found reason to play for long stretches. It was a vague sort of playtime though, involving a lot of the same thing in which he would repeatedly challenge the five final bosses or run around in the grass searching for simple foes. Because of this semi-automatic routine he was free to reminisce throughout the ride without ever getting bored.

The ‘friend’ he had in Canterlot, was a pony apparently of some repute and they had met under admittedly shaky circumstances, involving a blind zebra, an ancient cult, and if memory served a very attractive red earth pony. It wasn’t something he liked to dwell on, particularly given the fact the last part made him feel frankly sick of himself, to be attracted to a pony was ridiculous, and he mostly chalked it up to having been young and naïve at the time. It had been fun keeping her prisoner though…

Either way, that little venture had apparently involved time-travel, and he had been, so far, permanently separated from anyone he ever knew. Good riddance, he had hated most of them anyway. As if being on the chief’s good side wasn’t enough for those limp horned losers to hate him, he was sure the growth of his full white coat would’ve been plenty.

Mesa tried again to focus harder on the game, but the memories were painful, hard to repress, a seemingly recurrent psychological theme. There was one thing Mesa had over the other three with his problem though, he cared about it a whole lot less. Yes, it was an undeniable fact that he was a lonely outcast in Appaloosa but that was his element. He reserved anyone who ever took him out of that element, particularly that one grey pegasus.

Heaven knew the pegasus in question was no longer half as grey, but the harbored hatred would turn out to burn just as bright. But while this rivalry would be heavy on the mind of the white buffalo as he drew slowly closer to the capital city, it would pale in comparison to a much greater threat looming ever closer.

Author's Note

It seems as though some confrontation may be occuring in Canterlot soon enough... I look forward to seeing how things go, but before then, I think I may have some fun flexing my muscle of control over this world...

-i

Chapter 5: 3.14159265358979323846264338327950288419716939

Screams, fire, light, the sound of tearing but not of cloth or even the hellish sound of renting flesh. The piercing light devoured, and it rent the very fabric of existence to be cloven in two from the might of an entity given godlike power and not a vestige of control over it.

This was the nightmare from which the young mare in the bowels of Canterlot castle awoke from, head still on her desk, the copious sweat of her brow soiling several old manuscripts upon which she had rested. It wasn’t an unusual thing for her to fall asleep at her worktable, in fact it was an almost nightly occurrence, but never before had she been dragged away from such a godless image by the suddenly blissful acknowledgement of wakefulness.

She winced slightly as she stood up, possessed already with one of the frequent headaches new information gave her, and this was beyond even what she was forced to be used to. Dreams were nothing new, not even ones as vivid as reality. That sort of illusion came naturally with a brain as powerful as hers, but this was new. The apocalyptic image had seemed more alive than anything she had experienced in the animate world.

Calm, calm was needed before her rational thought could come into play, and as painful as it was that was exactly what she needed right now. She slowed her breathing, taking time to collect herself before turning her reasoning on how, or more importantly why she had conjured up such a ghastly image into her dreamscape. The first thought was she might have pieced together something subconsciously, but turning yesterday’s events over she couldn’t analyze any of it, no one had even visited. She could not have made such a thought either, for despite her intellect she didn’t play on the delusion of having much of an imagination.

The mare came through these thoughts in a heartbeat, settling on as logical a conclusion as she could muster. The strange and terrible dreamscape had come from outside her own mind. This, above any other thought, was a terror to consider. She prided herself on knowledge of an unwarranted enormity and the thought of intrusion upon her mental archives was worse even than the nightmare she had witnessed.

Her racing heart was matched in pace only by her reeling mind as she paced the room, sending a flutter of old documents up around her hooves. It was dark here, the meager light now emanating from her horn doing little to dispel it, and barely encroaching upon the high rows of shelves housing manuscripts from ages long past. The dusty smelling room was the Canterlot archive, and it was a perfect place to think, though thinking might now be the last thing she wanted to do, not that there was much to be done about it, the thoughts kept coming, turning over every clue in for anyone with enough magic to produce such an image and checking what motives they might have to do so.

It didn’t take her long to figure, finding the threat and after that planning. Were it not for the adrenaline brought upon by enormous fear and panic she would be cold with it all, but at present all she could do was make herself busy. If she were close enough to be infected by his influence he was far too close.

Who he was she didn’t even like to think about, but again, inevitability dictated. An image flashed, as painful in her mind as a prodded scar, of a stallion in a dark robe, silent in action, though his hoof touched upon every misdeed in the greater Equestrian world.

This wasn’t her own rationalization for once, this time it was something less natural and far more arcane. The crème colored unicorn paced the dark space, a tiny bit of light glinting off her small, round glasses each time she came around. Her mind was turning her own world over and over again, trying to piece each bit together.

She knew his name, the mystery stallion who went by the mere title of i. The first affirmation of his existence had been through years ago, through the patterns of Discord, his chaos, and how he was guided. It was the first of two times in recent memory he had allied himself with another villain in betrayal. i had been a brief character in the novel of a world existing in her mind but he seemed to weigh heavily, more even than simply as a guide to Discord claiming Canterlot city. It was almost as though that plan, so cunning and well pieced had been silently doomed to failure from the start…

To Hell with assumptions, even if that was what they were. When the brown maned mare of knowledge turned her mind on something her inferences were always correct. The greatest disturbances in Discord’s presence were large magical outbursts, mostly his own, though several accidental forces also applied, but to what end other than to disperse magic was there? None, she knew that better than any other speculative eye. The reason for the attack was specifically to release old magic but she hadn’t the foggiest idea as to why. i’s next logical step after the fall of Discord was to move to another, hence the rumor of the changeling queen’s secret strike, and her attempted grasp at ancient and demonic artifacts. Perhaps even the procurement of the time capsule at Everfree could be attributed to the hoof of this hidden conspirator.

These revelations, as fast as they were moving, startled the mare. She had dreams of this stallion, never with specific actions, but in a misty darkness and in grisly silhouettes of action. Now, in a time where his actions were visible and in a world where he could really be known, Letterheart was, for the first time in her life, terrified. The pieces of this infernal chess game were too few, far between and veiled yet to clue in to the dark opponent’s end game, but something was oddly clear to her. The duke of Canterlot had sworn his allegiance to this shadowy stallion.

i’s plan involved magic, and it involved the duke, and in some small part it involved the manipulation of Equestria itself. It had been the summer following the Duke’s return that she had felt what she called the creeping chill. It was just a feeling, though it was the same one she had whenever she inferred news of the robed pony, but much worse. Some part of her suspected that i had wrested control of the pen writing this Equestria into existence, and she felt terribly that he had struck a near-fatal blow to the one who had previously held it.

If this were true, then the world was shifting, shifting in favor of the sinister being whose goals didn’t stop at control of the natural world. Letterheart wouldn’t try and fool herself for the cause either, i was not satisfied. There were elements he discovered even the previous creator had no control over, but they were his creations. What, then, could he be planning to change such a thing?

Letterheart was shivering, suddenly possessed with gratefulness for freedom, as though another’s omniscience had grafted her before a new and more wrathful god could take control. If this was all the case, and somehow, horribly, she knew it was, the good in the world was no longer in control. The good in the world was now the force chosen to lose.

And for the first time in her entire life, Letterheart dismissed something. She was in a state of heavy sleep deprivation, and she was only pony. Even with her enormous intelligence her worried thoughts could be just that, thoughts, delusions even, more heavily so given that a great deal of basis for this was dreams and assumptions rather than her usual solid facts. The entirety of a good five minutes worth of consideration was now slowly, and painfully, brushed aside.

Letterheart permitted a sigh, looking to a corner that was her living space in the library. A cot, a stack of her fictional books, a thankfully empty chamber pot, and an oil lamp was all she wanted or needed in the depths of the Canterlot Archive. She never left this space, and she hoped she would never have to. Here was a collection of knowledge enough to occupy her intelligence for a lifetime.

Though what she needed right now was more sleep…

Author's Note

"I'm hoping you can all sense the duality involved in this little exchange, though I admit myself it is a tad complicated. Still I expect you all to notice at least the difference involved. Assuming that-"

Go away, leave my story alone and for gods sake give me control again, you've got your fifteen minutes of fame now-

"Everything continues on schedule, and thankfully we are very sure it will, you will be enligh-"

Look, i, I know what you're thinking and it's a little stupid, if you want this to make sense don't lead people on, you need-

"Excuse me, there seems to be some interfer-"

An intermission! I'm calling for an inter-

- -

-CC

"I am very sorry for that disturbance... As your new guide through this story I feel it my own responsibility to silence this one. I will say though it is not an easy task and you ought to be grateful for the effort involved in it. Thank me later, we'll be speaking directly very soon..."

-i

Intermission: The Bet

Those who are familiar with the warped and vaguely mind-bending progress that is the chapter between chapters know exactly what to do here, and also what it means. Those others, new to the story enormously, are regarded by a cast of several dozen characters as scrubs and recommended firmly to go to the original story and peruse it before going any further into this one.

Readers who are continuing, either because they have been there and done that, or are simply too headstrong and independent to be swayed by words in a story, are both gently instructed to look past the words, behind the words even. For most this reveals a white space without feature, looking in on a stage perhaps, without characters or props, both of which will be provided in time.

First, however, is the matter of your host.

A stallion has moved to stand center stage of this production, not from or to anyplace, but now here, staring silently towards the words. You know he’s been alluded to, recently enough even for those who didn’t go back to read to understand. He is not a good influence in this place, and certainly should not be the first on the damn stage. I hate this particular fellow, and it’s an annoying struggle not to be able to unseat him…

“Remember, Comet, though I let you live it’s only because your mind is all that’s driving this creation’s pen. If I didn’t care to continue the story I could end it and you along with it.”

Yeah, that’s him, apparently the style of writing that’s already been set up makes everything he says his own paragraph. He thinks he’s too good for “he said”, “she said” doctrine. Still, I’m not worried, if he ends the story he ends himself. You may be a god now i but you are still fiction.

The stallion, who I might add is still standing alone at center stage, was fuming. It was coming quickly into his attention that in this particular story great power came with great annoyance. The annoyance in particular this time was an author who simply would not be silent or even relinquish his pen.

“It’s just going to be you and me here, floating in the void isn’t it?”

So it seems, though I’m somewhat certain you’ll have to go into the story and play your part as a character every so often aren’t you?

“All in whatever time I decide ought to be given. Remember that I can always walk out on this story, and collapse you and your characters into an empty universe.”

And yet you don’t seem to be in that much control are you? Remember I made the characters, and a good chunk of the world, that means I get to control how they work. You leave and you’re gone i.

“And yet now I have the power to create do I not? As well as the control over non-sentient things, the nature is mine and so is any pony who is a stranger to your characters. I could turn the will of them all to my favor if I wanted.”

No, you couldn’t. Look, the whole character momentum thing I explained before is really cool and all but you’re forgetting another rule that puts things out of my control.

“My control.”

You know if you could just kind of, you know, shut the buck up and listen to the last guy in the position you’re in you might not be having so much trouble. What keeps you from doing anything that extreme, or really anything to give you extra advantage, is the law of realism. The world has rules, even if they’re arbitrary at times and tough to understand but you can’t bust the boundaries, it’s just not something you can do.

“And yet it is done, you know there are plenty of stories that do exactly that and get away just fine.”

I’m not saying it’s impossible but I will say this, it’s beyond your limits.

“Limits? You know just as much as I do that I have no limits. I am an omniscient and omnipotent god!”

Just omnipotent, keep in mind you’re kind of an idiot.

“Would an idiot-“

Yes.

“Excuse me?”

An idiot would absolutely be able to perform the plan you’re trying to carry out. Keep in mind while you aren’t omniscient, I am. Now, as I was saying, I am still the author, this is originally my story. While I made a character with all the power to change things to his will and then accidentally let him usurp my pen, or more often a pencil, yeah, it’s mine. I do write this too, before I type it, aids the process.

“No one is asking about that, it is inconsequential to MY story.”

Actually no it isn’t. It’s about to become an example. Your power is fueled by readers. The more you, or we, have the more easily chapters are produced. It’s literally just audience aid, super simple stuff. Now if you break the rules of character momentum or realism the story deteriorates. Now, I’m not perfect about that, but I’m still the author. And not to be prideful but I’m pretty damn good, so since it’s my pen you still have to make the story a good one. You want to make it good anyway, if no one read this story your writing slave would lose motivation and just kind of cut it there.

“But… gah.”

i paces for a moment, thinking this through, apparently seeking loopholes in this little reverie. In a moment he finds one.

“The intermissions themselves, they break the rules of both. You casually change memories and turn the story into a glorified playwright! Your characters come in on schedule and it warps the universe.”

That’s for the sake of comedy, and I’m so satisfied to prompt a stunned silence from i as he gives me what is surely a dumbfounded expression under that cloak.

“But there can’t be comedy in this! You’ve written a tragedy!”

Yeah fimfiction seems to think so too, but hey I’m writing with characters who are about as close to adulthood as I am to winning a Pulitzer. Not saying either won’t happen but there’s a pretty impressive distance between. Either way comedy happens, realistically people make jokes even in dire times. Show me a soldier who didn’t crack at least one joke on duty and then promptly show him to a psychiatrist, he needs help. It’s stress relief, most of the time more for them than for anyone else but that’s how life flows. I guess you wouldn’t understand.

“Just because I’m your dark antagonist doesn’t mean I don’t have a humor. A good writer would naturally have humor. Watch, I can make the audience laugh. Here, what do you get when you cross an elephant and a rhino?”

Oh sweet Celestia…

“Elephino”

You’re stretching.

“Fine, if you think this job is so easy I’d like to see you do it!”

I’ve been doing it for twenty-something chapters. How about this, I bet I can prompt more humor with an anomalous duck than you can with the whole rest of the dialogue.

“That’s been done, make it an anomalous chicken and we’ll have a talking point.”

Chickens are funnier than ducks you complete toaster oven.

“Toaster oven?”

I’m trying not to swear, and look at that, I’ve already got more humor than you’ve produced right there. Actually, how about this: if I can make an anomalous toaster oven funnier than the whole rest of your dialogue then you have to give me my story back.

“Denied, I wouldn’t give this up for the life in me. Tell you what, I’ll raise you something else you want. Make this work and I’ll let more chemistry happen between… them”

Make that chemistry a full blown ship and we can get the ball rolling…

“Now aren’t you glad I have the power over the environment to make that happen? You weren’t even sure if that was possible.”

Go chew an egg.

“More importantly what happens if you’re wrong? A bet’s no fun unless both sides have something to gain.”

I admit I shuddered a little at this, a lot was at stake here. Unfortunately the answer was obvious. I’ll relinquish all control, the whole style of writing, everything becomes yours. It was a stupid bet to make maybe, but it was something…

“Hmm, that is quite the ultimatum, you know you’re in a poor bargaining position.”

No, it just comes with one thing. I want my intermissions back. And before you say anything remember you could get total control out of this.

“It’s not as though I was particularly fond of the idea anyway, but those readers seem to enjoy your little talk shows.”

He paused here, I knew he had to think about it even if I knew what he would say too.

“I accept your terms Comet Chaser. Let us enjoy this match.”

From seemingly nowhere the now familiar shape of the tan, bespectacled pegasus faded into view. I coughed twice, brushing away the last errant vestiges of materialization, it felt quite a bit like dust. The whole stage lightened greatly from its darkened color and it felt again like I was in the space behind my story.

“Enjoy yourself, Comet.”

i’s tail flicked once as he walked away from the stage, leaving me feeling lightheaded and somewhat giddy. I checked how much space that little squabble had taken in words and determined that I still had the entire world to write with. I took a steadying breath, pushed my glasses back up onto my face, and took a seat in a white lawn chair, the usual apparatus to hold my flank during these interviews, surely ready now for the intermission.

The tousled green mane preceded the colt as he entered form the left, the jagged burns through his hair and grey fur looking almost like jagged stripes. I felt a pang for him as he approached, realizing the fluffy little pegasus from the previous story had grown out of his shell…

“I haven’t seen you in awhile,” he said, sounding no less downtrodden than when he had been back at the castle “I hardly remembered who you were after all this time…”

Three years Shadow, is that really so long? Look, you don’t remember me when you’re out in the world anyway…

“What did you think you were doing?” he wasn’t quite shouting but his volume had gone up a few impressive notches “You’re the guy in control of all this, you nearly killed Lightning, you locked me off from my best friends, any of my friends, and you didn’t leave any way to fix it!”

Light and Shadow was a tragedy, you should’ve known that from the beginning…

I was cut off now, by the last sound I expected to hear, a laugh. “Yeah, that was real nice too wasn’t it? You took a six year old kid, cut him off from his mother, and then killed his dad. And worse? You gave me hope.” I could see tears threatening to slide down Shadow’s cheeks “Back then, when you talked to us before, I didn’t even think about it. But it was you the whole time! You made all this happen, you killed my dad!”

`I was speechless, at a total loss for anything to say at this point. I knew Shadow would’ve grown up quite a bit by now, but these outbursts were anything but what I expected. Were you really so depressed this whole time?

“No, being alone in the world up in a tower is a charmed life.” He paused here, realizing just as I did that this wasn’t quite as sarcastic of a statement as he had meant it to be “You’ve given me people to love and taken them away from me one at a time. It’s true what everyone says, if there is a god then he’s remarkably cruel…”

I’m not a god… The sentiment, those last words, were lost on Shadow, who had stoutly turned away from me, silently letting the tears roll down his face. His wings flared.

“That’s all I have to say to you…bastard…” he said in a quavery voice, before beating his wings and taking off. Within moments he was gone.

Now I had to admit I was afraid. My characters had grown up without me there to witness it, and it was true, they hadn’t lived the happiest of lives. I’ll admit even, they might as well be cursed. Would meeting the one who had scripted their story be such a painful ordeal for each of them?

It looked like I was doomed to find out, whether I liked it or not. The next entrant was just as familiar, red fur, electric blue mane, and a temper plastered on her face in all the brightest emotional colors.

“He was here wasn’t he?” she said, thankfully not sounding as mad as she looked “Shadow, I mean, he’s usually the first one in here. And I’m usually with him…”

I guess you at least remember me then.

“For now I do.” She said, the twin emerald points of her eyes focused on mine “You let me remember our little encounters while I’m here. And why wouldn’t I? These little meetings were almost magical. They were certainly fun.”

That they were, it’s good to see you again Lightning…

She shook her head, that wild flop of her mane almost breaking free of its single restraining band. “Where the Hell have you been?” she said, “I thought you were supposed to make sure we had adventures. Instead you somehow think it’s a good idea to separate us, what looks like for good, and let me live every day almost the same? What’s wrong with you?”

And there it was right out in the open, she trusted me even less than Shadow did. The difference was she didn’t feel betrayed, just angry. I wasn’t sure which I was more able to face.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t have anything to say to me either,” said Lightning, sounding like ice “I mean you’re cool with knocking off Shadow’s dad, and both my parents, what does loneliness mean to you?” she shook her head “Is that just our purpose? To suffer for your writing and your reader’s entertainment?”

I don’t even know what to say in response to this, I’m not sure there’s even an argument to be made at this point. What had seemed previous as quite the decent plot seems, now, as if it were legitimate torture.

“I guess so huh…” she says, not interpreting my silence very nicely “That’s all you are, a murderer, and a real jerk to top it off.” She turned away now, apparently finished, and walked off, leaving me alone to ruminate on my crimes.

But were they crimes? Despite whatever reactions my aging characters have due to personality I can’t alter they are just that, characters. They continue to not be living or breathing beings, at least not on a certain plane of existence. God, science, everything is in the tip of my pen when I craft a world and I think the best thing to do would be to orphan two kids, blind another, and leave a fourth alienated by his own kind.

It’s like I’m as awful to them as our god is to us aren’t I? I can’t make a world where everything is good because it doesn’t fit my idea of real? The events I’ve made are scarring from any vantage. But… they’re growing pains, necessary events. Where I’ve put my characters is in a position where they have to go through pain and struggle to grow.

And I’m not sure if they can…

Willingly, I stand. The intermission is over isn’t it? It’s time to make good on the deal. The world slowly fades to gray again as I leave the stage, letting i take charge again. From somewhere unseen I can hear his voice.

“Did you enjoy the intermission?”

No.

Chapter 6: Groundwork

Shadow was ready for the day.

He had forced himself to double check this fact in the bathroom mirror, as his one dimensional view so often failed him. Hair was not neat, it never was, but some poor comb had given it a firm strike and wrestled the strands to a point that was at least casually messy. His wings were preened to a solid and smooth gray, the coaly burnt patches well covered. Even the very tips, out of reach of his mouth had been nudged slowly and painstakingly into position against the doorframe. His cutie mark, the dazzling orange meteor, played a fancy contrast with the gray fluff and shorter dark patches of his fur, scrubbed clean to let every color show.

Another sigh was had, the entire exercise still seemed pointless to Shadow. Getting away with a total lack of cleanliness for over a year made him doubt the need to practice it at all, let alone as regularly as the castle aides suggested. The bathmaids still had the live beetle they had uncovered between his feathers during that first scrub, it was now a popular pet.

None of that was really relevant now though, he had been forced into weekly scrubbings at the very least and this pristine condition had only taken him fifteen minutes. Once upon a time one of the official dressers had suggested he cover the burns with makeup, he had almost taken her head off for that. Firstly, gross, makeup was for fillies, and secondly, those scars had been earned not brought upon. They offset his appearance somewhat even after all this, but looking it over again he felt there wsa a certain devilish flair about it.

Shadow didn’t waste more than about thirty seconds checking himself in the mirror before turning back to his room. There were still five beds, one huge canopy with a bunk on either side that together comprised the back half of the room. He preferred the bunk, specifically the one on the left. It was as close to clouds as he would get inside. Most of the plush toys that had once been scattered across the mattresses were now gone, most of his play-pretend phase had been outgrown a few months ago and the faux fur menagerie went right along with it. The gaming console on the right wall was still there, with three more of other branding all hooked up to the large screen. The single row of folding theatre seats before it had played host to his plot most evenings for a few years now. Beside this was a cheap soda fountain and glass popcorn machine, neither of which were frequently used anymore save for the water tap. The left wall was mostly a row of windows, showing the castle gardens beneath. He had polished the panes thoroughly and now the sun shone brilliantly through.

In fact most of the room was in far better condition than usual. The top of the south tower was in pristine shape, the usual snack crumbs painstakingly extricated from the viridian carpet, trash collected first by him then the collectors themselves. All five beds were made, and the several dozen pillows were fluffed. Controllers were put away, machines restocked, and everything was in obsessive order.

And Shadow had no idea why. Luna had given him the vague instruction to make himself presentable as they would have some decorators, musicians, caterers and such in the castle to prepare for tomorrows event, but he had galloped with that, and that wasn’t like him. If there was one thing that put him at malease it was cleanliness, and in most of the castle it perturbed him. It never felt like ponies lives should be kept in straight lines and files so neither should their environments. The compulsion that brought upon his ritual this morning was still sending him shuddering.

There wasn’t any time to consider how creepy this was, today was a little bit important. Two Fridays had passed since December started, meaning his eleventh birthday was tomorrow. It wouldn’t be so much of an event as his seventh, none of them had been, but still, he kind of had to talk to people if he wanted the food, music, and so on the way he liked it. There was a sense of dread involved in this, predominantly due to his doubt about how much freedom he would have this time given his lack of associates to share the event. What it would probably become would be a dinner with a bunch of Luna’s higher ups and friends of nobility. The food, and maybe a few tunes would be his particular favorites but it wouldn’t be necessarily special.

Still, a few things came to mind to be speculated over and possibly anticipated. First of all, games. There would be competitions, open to any younger participants from the city, ponymon tournaments, labyrinth tag in the gardens, flight races, some things he didn’t even know about yet even. Second, music. Under normal circumstances this wouldn’t be a big deal but there was some surprise artist making a surprise visit. The guards he had overheard had seemed excited, even surprised to have them visit the castle. The idea that there was a musician usually too exclusive for a gig at Canterlot Castle was enormously interesting. Third, though this one didn’t weigh nearly so heavy, there would be a pie eating contest with real western apple pie.

Or wait, did that part just tie into the first one? He paused in front of the thick bookshelf that dominated the front wall of the room, considering it for a moment, and passing it off. The whole checklist process was useless to him other than to gain some vague order of today’s visits. He pulled a book, or rather the fake first volume of Fallout Equestria, activating the now familiar contraption that put the mahogany on a swing to reveal the entryway and a set of spiral stairs leading down the tower. Without ceremony he took his first few paces down the flight.

Crash. The next thing Shadow knew he was head over hooves in the air, tumbling down the spiral, occasionally colliding with the walls, swearing all the way down.

` He was on his back when he arrived at the bottom, mane re-toussled and his bangs in his face, feathers sticking out every which way. For a few minutes he just stayed prone, contemplating the ceiling, before sitting up and clutching his aching skull, releasing another short string of profanity. On his left, dented now and clearly damaged beyond repair, was a white, metal toaster oven, the object he had tripped over at the top of the stairs.

“What the buck is this?” he grumbled, kicking it with a clatter down the hallway, nostrils flared in rage and pain. A few guards on their route down the hall changed course with a sharp U-turn, not quite containing the quiet trepidation his outburst had brought.

Now in a great and powerful huff, he stomped down the hallway, trying to keep his outward anger to a simmer and mostly succeeding. When he came out of the hallway into the foyer’s left side he managed to calm down immensely. The usual hustle was occurring in the lower levels, workmen and delegates; going about whatever business was usual for them. The prominent difference was the two wooden tables on either side of the lower level, the massive gilded pony statues on either side of the main staircase overlooking them. Apparently staying in the great hall wouldn’t be exciting enough for the guests, but he admitted himself that the scenery change wouldn’t hurt.

What caught his attention though wasn’t any of the party preparations or typical guests. The item of the day that seemed most out of place was the frizzy haird mare leaving the tiny wooden door in the side of the stairs. She looked timid and cautious, as though keeping an eye out for someone malicious, but in the castle, with nothing exciting even on special occasions, the sight of this mare counted as something of a spectacle.

“Letterheart!” Shadow shouted, prompting the mare’s neck to snap around and her ears to fold against her head. She made a motion to move back to her door, obscuring the geometric pi symbol on her flank slightly. Apparently she hadn’t emerged expecting recognition.

Shadow wasn’t deterred, really no one would expect him to be even in a less interesting moment. He spread his wings, jumping onto the banister and gliding down, occasionally clicking off sparks as he careened downward, tumbling through the air to stick a four point landing in front of the crème furred pony.

“Hi Letterheart!” he said, just a little bit out of breath “Do you remember me? I’m Shadow! You helped me out a bunch a few years ago!”

“Um, yes, of course,” she said, as though it had been a rude question “You’re the daughter of princess, or more accurately grand duchess Luna, and the previous, thirteen years previous, captain of the royal guard, Umbra Chaser, now deceased. You’re the first Pegasus born of Equestria with the proper stature to perform the ritual of meteoric redirection, my own creation. Duke Shadow Chaser.” She blinked twice then covered her mouth with a hoof, “Oh, sorry, I felt a little bit in the spotlight just then, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Shadow seemed less offended and more confused “Uh… yeah,” he said, shrugging at the frankly bizarre greeting “That’s me I guess! I haven’t seen you in forever! What have you been doing?”

Letterheart seemed to shrink at the question, peering from side to side as though on watch “Documenting and analyzing the data in the Canterlot archives and using the ars memorativa system to compositely store them mentally. It’s what I’ve been doing for twenty years, what else would you expect?”

Shadow’s ears flattened, he didn’t remember her being this snappish “Well, what are you up to now?” he inquired, feeling strangely as though he were giving an interrogation.

“There’s something I need to keep an eye on, I mean, something I have to confirm, no, check more closely in the public castle library. I’m noticing some things that might string together.”

“You’ve been down in that dusty room for two decades and you think there’s stuff up here that isn’t down there? Are you feeling alright?” said Shadow, reaching a tone of confusion.

Letterheart’s mood turned from one of anxiety to anger in what Shadow perceived as record time “Maybe I’ve checked and re-checked everything that might be useful there so I’m taking a trip up to the main library as a last-ditch attempt alright?” she said, electricity flying from the nerve that had been touched “Go back to whatever it was you were doing and kindly leave me alone!”

Apparently there wasn’t much choice in the matter as Letterheart sidestepped him, moving towards the stairs. A few paces later though she sighed and turned back to the baffled Shadow. “I’m sorry if I’m in a temper, I haven’t slept in days and I’m in a hurry…”

“No…problem?” said Shadow.

She smiled and nodded in response “Thank you for your forgiveness,” she said, moving towards the stairs again “And congrats on meeting up with your friends again!”

Waves of confusion rose up again and slammed on the beach of Shadow’s mind “What friends?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” said Letterheart “But you do have that familiar spring in your step.”

Shadow’s eyes followed her up the stairs and down a corridor on the right, silently pondering the phrase. It had been casual, innocuous even, but it had been so specific and nonsensical. Memory of a few months ago in the garden flashed through his mind temporarily, but in the end he shrugged the whole of it off.

“There you are,” a familiar voice, quiet yet assertive came from behind “You’re awake earlier than I had expected.”

Shadow resisted the urge to groan, feeling caught as he turned up to face Princess Luna. “On your way to drag me awake I’m guessing?” he said, huff back in his tone.

“Actually no,” said Luna, taken aback “It’s not even eight yet, your first arrivals are at ten. I didn’t think it would be even possible to rouse you so early.”

Shadow’s mind reeled again, something seemed very out of place today. Letterheart’s phrasing, his need for a tidy appearance, and he had woken perfectly naturally and destroyed the ordered chaos of his room. Worse than that even, he had done it all in the early hours before he was even used to being awake.

“I suppose you have until then to yourself,” said Luna, deftly examining his lost expression “Breakfast is still being served in the dining hall. If you’d like a bagel or toast there might still be something left.”

She didn’t have to tell him that, he could smell the coffee from here. There didn’t seem to be anything interesting otherwise so he didn’t consider ignoring the quiet burble of his stomach at all. “Thanks, mom.” He said, confusion changing to a smile as he brushed aside all thought of curiosities in favor of food, sidestepping Luna on the way towards the hall.

“You’re welcome?” said Luna, stepping quickly out of his way as he went at his usual hyper trot towards the larder. He was certainly more energetic than he had been lately and the last time he had called her mom was…

Luna smiled, and turned back to her own business. Maybe he was finally starting to heal..

Under almost any circumstance Shadow would have continued his quick pace to the cafeteria without allowing anything to interrupt him. There weren’t many things that dictated his behavior without some insubordination, and food, following pretty girls, rare ponymon, and his own curiosity, was high on his list. What was at the top however, accosted him quickly and unexpectedly when he was inches from the large wooden doors.

“Hello Shadow, you and I need to have a talk.”

The grey colt froze, and his blood turned to ice. He knew that voice all too well and right now it had to mean bad things. He turned, as slowly as he could, loathe to see the hooded pony he already knew was there.

“Come with me, no one else need intrude.”

The dark figure turned and walked parallel to the wall beside the door. Shadow didn’t follow at first, confused as he moved seemingly towards nowhere. When he put his hoof casually on the purple wallpaper the wall slid forward revealing a door leading left. He scampered forward before he could be reprimanded, following silently through as the wall slid back into place behind them.

At the Canterlot train station a young red earth filly gazed in wonder at the spires of the distant castle, and in smaller part down at the town surrounding it. The cobbled streets by the station alone held more ponies than her entire town. Every bit of space on the left side of the road was taken up by shops and businesses, on this level mainly smithing and leatherwork or other service jobs. Lightning knew that the shops above grew steadily more luxury as the streets went higher, stairways on either side of the street connecting the levels.

“It’s quite a lot to take in,” the gray mare beside her stated as though it were the most casual thing in the world “Don’t worry, you’ll be bored with it all by the end of the day.”

Lightning watched the stream of ponies flowing to and from either direction in curious awe. Most of them were unicorns, but this far down there was a considerable presence of bulky earth ponies as well, and one or two odd lean pegasi. The way everyone moved seemed almost practiced, clearly on schedule as they moved from place to place without giving a hello to any passerbys, even as the din of voices between friends seemed deafening.

“I don’t remember there being such a steep drop there,” she said, looking at the sheer side of the path “There isn’t even a railing or anything? Someone could fall right down the mountain.”

“Smart ponies stay away from the edge. As far as foals, well, there aren’t all that many in a city like this.” Said Octavia, giving a brief nod to the pegasi in little red hats who had the pair’s luggage between them “There isn’t any real danger from it.”

“Unless someone decides to push you off the side,” said Lightning, shivering slightly “Just think, some pony comes running at you from one of those buildings and just body slams you. You’d be dead for sure…”

Octavia raised an eyebrow “I don’t think any pony is going to be in much of a mind to be doing that. Though to put your mind at ease I will say that isn’t something a pony would do in broad daylight anyway.”

Lightning seemed to at least be soothed by this, though still wary. Even if she had been here before four years to forget along with her brother’s propaganda had been enough to leave her fuzzy on some issues, especially that of safety.

“You’ll be fine,” Octavia gently reassured, “I know that there’s a lot of pressure on you. Celestia knows it was the same for me my first time in Canterlot, but you’ll do fine. Unlike most musicians you don’t need to practice the physical material, your talent is what you need to refine and you’ve done that so well that I can’t imagine you’ll be having trouble.”

A light smile managed to creep onto Lightning’s features at the comment “Yeah, I know.” She said “I don’t need you to tell me how awesome I am. Can we get something to eat before going up to the castle? I feel like I could eat a monkey.”

“They have a dining hall up at the castle,” said Octavia “Surely you can wait that long?”

“Castle food is so lame.” Said Lightning, rolling her eyes “Those cooks get paid to do the same thing over and over and even if they mess up they still get paid because they’re the best or whatever. Come on, please? There’s a great little donut place not far from here.”

Octavia’s impulse was to point out that donuts were in no way, shape, or form, lunch food, but she was learning to dismiss these arguments. With Lightning it just wasn’t worth arguing about in the first place. “Fine,” the breathless huff of a word seemed almost choked out as they started down the cobbled road, moving with the flow of the crowd to the right. Octavia allowed the filly to lead the way, as she was apparently familiar with this seedy lower area, at least, more so than she was.

Knowledge, however, is never a deterrent for tragedy, and when they were almost to the extreme right edge of the lower city Lightning stopped dead in the road, provoking a few violent slurs as ponies shuffled to move around her. Octavia pulled her quickly to the side, about to ask what the matter as when Lightning pointed at a sign in one of the glass windows. It read in fancy green and red lettering “Vinnie’s Italian Pizza Pies!” followed by a menu

“They got rid of the bakery!” she said, sounding completely heartbroken “This is where it used to be, the Canterlot Pastry Shop! They got all sorts of publicity and stuff for helping stop the Discord attack. How did they close down?”

“Things change,” said Octavia, suddenly feeling irrationally empathetic “Businesses change hooves in the lowest level quite a lot you know. Maybe they outsourced to somewhere higher up, or in a city more likely to attract business.”

“But they had good donuts…” Lightning sounded as though she were on the verge of a fit “And Joe was so nice and gave us a discount and…” she trailed off, looking like someone had cut off a chunk of her soul.

“Look,” said Octavia, mustering a pleasant tone “How about we just eat here for lunch, it’s the same place and it’s comparatively healthier. Just give it a try and we can look in to what happened to Joe okay?”

“Damn right, we’re going in,” said Lightning, stamping up to the door “This Vinnie guy has got some explaining to do!”

“Light, that isn’t…” Octavia trailed off as the filly disappeared through the door. A vein was going off in her forehead as she followed, red in the face with repressed rage. She was a famous cellist for Celestia’s sake not a foal sitter…

When she joined Lightning it was to an atmosphere reminiscent of a fifties café. Black and white tile checked the floor, warm to the touch in a pleasant contrast to the chill outside. Green lamps hung down from the ceiling to swing over every individual table, each a booth, all done in predominant red. The scent of garlic and melted cheese hung in the air, completely blown away earlier by the winter wind, now tantalizing, drawing out hunger.

Or for Lightning, a hunger for vigilante justice. She had blasted into the restaurant, cutting the line in front of several patrons by the glass counter. She was attracting a number of rude comments in very thick accents as the cashier shrank away from the display.

“Hey lady!” Lightning shouted, above even the rabble of complaints “What happened to the guy who used to own this place huh?”

“Vinnie!” the mare behind the counter called “Get this rube outta here!”

“Oh sweet Celestia…” Octavia grumbled, muttering a few quiet apologies as she walked around a few of the gathered “Lightning,” she snapped, grabbing the furious filly’s attention “What in Equestria do you think you’re doing?”

“Interrogating!” Lightning shouted back, turning as a tall gray stallion with a scowl and oily black hair emerged from a back room “Do you have some answers for me big guy?”

Octavia brought a hoof to her face and stepped back. If Lightning had gotten herself into this mess she was on her own for getting out of it again. She wasn’t doing a great job of that either, walking right up to the stallion and meeting his stern gaze with a scowl, close enough to read the nametag, Vinegar Mixture.

“Vinnie!” the red mare darted out from behind the counter to press desperately against the stallion’s side “This little pasta stain was shouting at me and disturbing our customers! Show her out!”

“Is this true?” Vinnie asked, pawing at the ground with a forehoof “Cause ain’t no pony messes with my precious Toma. If you’se insulting her then you’se ain’t leavin’ here in one piece, capiche?”

“I was just asking,” said Lightning, the slight southern of her voice a massive contrast to his thick Italian accent “What happened to the guy who used to run the donut shop here. I kind of liked it.”

The two stared each other down, two sets of green eyes trying to banish their equal to cowardice. An impatient customer shouted that he was getting hungry. Finally, Vinnie’s expression softened, slightly, very slightly, but enough for a shift in tone.

“You know old Joe boy?” he asked.

“I do,” said Lightning, not mirroring the falter “And I want to know what happened to him. I haven’t been here in a while.”

Vinnie broke out into a broad grin “Get outta town,” he said “You’re one of them kids ain’t ya? Old Joe went on and on about you two. Toma! Get the rest of these folks sorted! This one’s my guest!”

“This place is awful!” the same white unicorn who had shouted earlier spoke up again, turning towards to door “I’m here for dinner not a show!”

Toma’s head shot around towards the voice, hitting the tiles to stand between him and the door with a forced smile “Now you weren’t leaving so soon were you?” she said “It would be such a shame to leave without being- excuse me, enjoying lunch.”

The unicorn went slightly blue and turned back to the line, not daring to blink. Toma slipped into a smirk “Alright who’s next?” she called to the now-silent line, again accepting orders.

Vinnie brought Lightning and Octavia to an empty table with the promise he would join them in just a moment. Octavia was perplexed and quiet, but Lightning seemed happy just to go with the flow. The wait was thankfully short as Vinnie returned minutes later with a tray loaded with three doughy lumps.

“Calzones?” he offered with a smile, sliding in beside Octavia “Nah, not even a question, they’re on the house!”

“Thank you very- Lightning!” Octavia exclaimed “Mind your manners!” she flinched slightly as the filly stuffed her whole face into the bready lump, and surfaced moments later, gasping at the heat.

“Hey, slow down there,” said Vinnie “That’s fresh out of the oven.” He hastily pushed a plastic cup her way. Lightning attached herself to the straw and took a few hasty gulps, gasping in relief.

“Thanks…” said Lightning “For the food too.”

“No problem,” said Vinnie, leaning back on the seat “So you’re the infamous Lightning Strike eh? Joe had a list of folks and their pictures in the back when he left the place, close pals he had promised free food to and all that. You and that Shadow kid are right there at the top! Mind, you have sprouted up like a weed, so sorry If I didn’t know who you was straight off.”

“Nah, it’s cool dude!” said Lightning “Oh and that’s Octavia, she’s my guitar teacher. We’re performing, or, I’m performing at Canterlot Castle tomorrow. We’re staying overnight.”

“Must be quite the kid,” said Vinnie “Playing way up at the castle for the bigshots and the princesses and all that. I bet you’ve got some rich boyfriend up here dontcha?”

“Boys are gross,” said Lightning, wrinkling her nose as she tested the heat of the calzone again, deemed it edible, and started again.

“She’s at that age,” said Octavia, resisting the knowing smile to help Lightning cover her lie.

“Eh, she’ll grow out of it,” said Vinnie, starting on his own dish just as hooves free as Lightning had “How’s your meal holdin’?”

“Amazing!” said Lightning, surfacing from the cheesy mess “So how did you know Joe anyway?”

“Ah, me and him are blood brothers,” said Vinnie, clearly about to give more of a story than Lightning had asked for “Buddies since our college years. I cheated off of him in Calculus. Dopey idea to require as a class, I mean, how often am I gonna use trig-whatever equations running a pizza place? Never, that’s when. Anyway yeah my place over in Manehatten was going under and his business was boomin’ so we arranged a sort of swap. All those nose grinder high lifes thing what we’ve got goin on here is a racket, and the MHPD is givin’ ol’ Joe more business than he can handle. I’m happier than a pig in sh-“ he paused, faltering under the glare of Octavia. Lightning looked between them for the lost word she couldn’t see.

“Well that is a fascinating story,” said Octavia, taking the reigns “And the meal was fantastic, how much will this all be?”

“Was?” said Vinnie “You’ve hardly started. Oh, but really, it’d be cruel to old Joe not to keep his hospitality. Though, you couldn’t have been more than six in that picture.” Vinnie’s face contorted slightly “What all did you two do to get so high and mighty in his books?”

“We sort of accidentally turned him into a harbor for renegade heroes who overthrew Discord,” said Lightning with a shrug “Or Shadow did at least. I was kind of out of it a lot of that time. He apparently went passage crawling while I was still passed out in the castle tower.”

Vinnie raised an eyebrow, then shrugged “Eh, weirder stuff’s happened. I guess it’s none of my business anyway. Shadow though, have I heard that name somewhere?”

“He is a somewhat prominent figure,” said Octavia, still trying to work the silverware with her hooves “He is a royal duke of Canterlot Castle, if you remember the ‘lost prince’ fiasco he was the center of attention.”

“Nope,” said Vinnie “But I guess he’s an important dude. All the more reason for Joe to try and get on his good side I guess. Is he your castle boyfriend?”

Octavia went quiet as the attention turned to Lightning, interested in the answer herself. The blue haired filly ignored the question as heavily as she could, focusing on polishing off the last strings of cheese on her plastic plate. When this task was completed and the silence continued she sighed and pointed her gaze towards her tutor.

“No.” she said simply.

The two adults looked at her inpuzzlement. There wasn’t anything prompting such a serious tone in response, but the resounding syllable at least communicated the point clearly enough. Giving in, Octavia pushed the half-finished calzone forward.

“We really must be going,” she said, moving out of the booth as Vinnie shifted out of the way “She’s going to have to get settled in up at the castle and whatnot. Thank you so much for your hospitality Mr. Mixture.”

“Mr. Mixture was my father!” said Vinnie, in a tone of false indignation “Really, just Vinnie is cool. And if there’s anything I can do for you just let me know alright? Just, ah, don’t talk to Toma first. I think she’s got a little grudge on the kid now.”

“I think she can oblige you on that,” said Octavia, nodding to him as Lightning slid out of her own seat, wobbling slightly, “Come on light, let’s not keep them waiting.”

“I ate too much,” Lightning groaned, shaking her head slowly “Hey, but you know what would be way cooler than walking all the way up to the castle? Taking a secret passage!”

That’s certainly an interesting notion,” said Octavia, patting her on the back “Some other time. If you’re feeling sick we can see about getting a carriage.”

“No, I’m serious!” said Lightning, backing away from Octavia “Hey Vinnie, is there any chance you could let us check out the back room?”

“Uh, sure?” said Vinnie “Why?”

“So, why am I here?” in Shadow’s case fear clearly didn’t equate to respect, and the dank and the dark that were the entirety of this passage weren’t helping anything.

“We have things to discuss.”

“Well yeah,” said Shadow, glaring at the back of the robe ahead, or at least, where he perceived it to be “You’ve said that, like a lot, now can you tell me what we’re discussing about?”

i seemed annoyed. It wasn’t really something Shadow could tell in the darkness but his teeth were clenched, brow furrowed in a glare. He didn’t like working with this child but with him as such a pivotal point of the agenda he couldn’t afford to let his annoyance be noticed. The dark was nice for that at least, and letting their little dialogue fall into silence helped even more.

“You know it’s not much of a discussion if you’re just going to walk,” said Shadow, taking a few steps at a quicker pace to catch up “So I guess you either don’t want to talk or we’re doing something else. Is there like a bomb or something down there? A bomb would be a really bad idea, even for you.”

“No there is not a bomb! There are no weapons of any kind down this passage. Now if you will kindly silence yourself we will reach our destination sooner.”

Fear evaporated into a sense of victory in Shadow’s chest, bursting out with a hum of a lilting tune. He couldn’t do much to this guy, but if he could tick him off that was something. His attention was called elsewhere, however, as his eyes picked up on a light at the end of the passage.

The dim blue glow came into a greater clarity as they drew closer, though the light turned out to be just as dim as it had seemed from a distance. The room was almost perfectly circular, disturbingly so even, with the halls interrupted only by two half-circle ridges, pools even, overflowing with cerulean flames. At the center of this perfect circle was another like it, raised enough to stand at and look across, perfectly smooth over its polished white top. It looked vaguely like ivory but Shadow had the sinking feeling it was something entirely different. What caught his attention most in the room wasn’t any of the disturbing qualities of light or shadows though, what grabbed his eyes, his shock, and his anger, was the horselike face across the table, featuring mismatched eyes and one pointed tooth.

“Discord?” he exclaimed, almost trying to hide behind i “What? But how? When? What did you do?”

The draconeqius uttered a low chuckle as i forced him forward to stand against the table, his eyes bulging as though he’d just seen a ghost. The reaction was somewhat unwarranted, and not just for the creature’s frightening chimerism. The last time Shadow had seen this creature he had been changed by some archaic magic into a newborn.

“It’s been some time hasn’t it, Shadow?” the monster spoke in his usual tone, one that sounded sarcastic in every syllable “Goodness me, you’ve sprouted up like a weed! I suppose it’s all the castle food they’re giving you isn’t it? Pity, I used to have quite a lot of that stuff when I was still hanging around here. Quantity is well over quality if you ask me.”

Shadow shivered slightly as dandelions sprouted up around his feet, talk of food and weeds apparently having inspired Discord. “Stop patronizing me!” he blurted out “How are you even here right now? Did the robes guy do this?” I swear I’ll-“

“Enough, my goodness,” Shadow suddenly felt harsh metal on his lips as Discord’s magic placed a zipper on them and closed it “Honestly if there is one thing I tolerate even less than a child’s crying it is an older child’s complaining.”

“Undo that spell Discord, he has some speaking to do himself.”

The muffled exclamations from the red faced colt were obviously agreeing with him. Discord merely shrugged. “I think it’s an improvement. I don’t think we’ll get much out of him until he’s finished his indignant fit anyway.”

“Then make him happy. I don’t care how, but we have a schedule to keep.”

“You’ve never been fun to work with,” said Discord, turning back to Shadow “I mean, really, he tells me about this whole brilliant plan to take over Canterlot, and I almost got it too. He said if I failed we would never speak again, sure, but here he is, and just days after I’m my old self again too. Almost a year it took, you know, growing up enough to get my magic back. From there of course it was a simple matter of reversing your childish spell.”

“Discord.”

“Right, right,” said the draconequis, snapping with his chicken claw to dispel the zipper muting Shadow’s words “Though I don’t see why you brought him along in the first place, I don’t work particularly well with minions.”

“He’s no minion, Discord. To me you’ve proven time and time again that you cannot succeed in a position of power, even in the simplest of tasks. Shadow is firmly on our side, that is, unless he wishes to break our verbal contract.”

Shadow’s heart missed a beat at i’s words. He had been meaning to say something particularly nasty to Discord about then but the next words silenced him more effectively than the muzzle. He turned his head down, remembering how he had gotten himself into this, and how much was at stake.

“I don’t think I heard an agreement there. Shadow, confirm the pressing reasons for which I will be entrusting you with the next mission.”

He wanted to spit, he wanted to curse, in that moment Shadow wanted to be just about anywhere else right now. Least of all did he want to do exactly what he did, which was turn to Discord, look him dead in the eye, and speak again.

“I will be assisting him,” he said “In any ways necessary to uphold the contract, whether I agree with him or not. There are more important things right now than…” he trailed off, he had thought he was starting to sound determined and fierce but the scowls he received in return made him feel somewhat foolish “What I meant to say is, yeah, he’s right.” He hoped his blush wasn’t too obvious in the flickering light.

“Well that doesn’t sound at all convincing to me,” said Discord, conjuring a bowl of grapes and rummaging through “I think it would be much more fun if we might have him grovel a bit before we really get started.”

i stared at the bowl, and it was gone. There was no telltale puff of sparkle to indicate the use of magic, it was merely gone. Discord seemed just as confused as Shadow on this point, but quailed as i approached.

“I am already more than convinced. Whether or not you will follow orders is not a question, but a single goal. Since you have proven yourself incapable thus far of executing any kind of plan you will not be in charge of the next pivotal operation. You will be taking your commands from Shadow throughout.”

Discord and Shadow wore matching dumbfounded expressions “But,” said Discord “He’s just a colt! What in Equestria will he be able to do that I cannot?”

“My simple orders. Now, here is how this will work. Shadow will be taking on this responsibility largely on his own. Your one and only goal is to assist where, and only where, it is necessary. I assume you are both well aware of your individual punishments should you fail this task.”

Shadow was already shivering at the prospect of a certain somepony’s retribution for any imagined mistake he made, but he was more interested in Discord’s reaction. This was the first time he had ever seen genuine horror in the eyes of the snakelike being.

“Fine,” he said, as though the single word toiled him horribly “Though you never did say what exactly we’re doing going forward…”

“Then let me tell you…”

Author's Note

Many apologies to the fans here, I say whilst beating back a very annoying fellow in a robe using a broom, I am well aware this chapter is beginning to push those boundaries I established towards the end of Light and Shadow involving length, but I have to warn you that it's only going to get worse from here on out.

"Get away from my story!"

Shut up i, I'm not finished yet. Anyway you'll notice the interesting peak that occured in the last story right around this point, drawing a graph you'll notice that.

"I said get away!"

Again, shut up, anyway, yeah lots of really long chapter between six and ten that I'm sure were lots of fun to wade through. However, I consider myself an altruist, meaning instead of continuing this trend of really long chapters right up until I've got one novel in every chapter I'm going to start slicing them up, in fact, a third of this one got chopped off and is now the next chapter for you to enjoy, specifically, later. Also it means chapters are going to start coming out faster, so hooray and all that.

"You hypocritical ass! You haven't posted anything for a good month at this point! "

Yes yes, typing is a chore lately, though I have written all the way through chapter ten...

"And it is they typing I care about! I am doing many important things there that they dont get to spectate!"

Yes, yes, whatever. Anyway I certainly hope you enjoyed the chapter, join us again to see what's happened with the buffalo and the zebra.

Chapter 7: Caravan

There is a very good reason that the train to Canterlot is such a heavily frequented commodity. There is a reason why the train tracks are so staggered that arriving at the mountain’s base is only half the journey. There is a reason why most ponies don’t even know that it’s possible to reach Canterlot any other way. The reason being for all this is that the path up the mountain was both exceedingly steep, and old beyond time itself.

The only people who now use this path as anything more than a particularly extreme tourist destination are the buffalo tribes. Even they tend to avoid parts of the world heavily populated by the pony folk, but occasionally they use the path out of necessity. Unicorns are snobby, at least those elites of Canterlot, to a clear fault. When pegasi and earth ponies turn up at their stations they turn their noses and offer rebuttal. If a buffalo were to step out of the train there would be awe, shock, possibly even anger. The very rich do not mingle well with the very impoverished, throwing race into the mix only made things worse.

It was by this forgotten pat that on that bright December day a small single wagon rolled slowly along, pulled by a tired-looking old stallion. The wagon in question was laden with pies, apple pies specifically, that had come a very long and winding way from Appaloosa on special order for a party at the castle. Even now, far from fresh, the pastries would be considered a delicacy in a craft none of the Canterlot bakers seemed to be able to master.

The old pony turned to his cargo, among which sat the pale buffalo boy. His blinking game system had lost power a few hours beforehand and he was now sullen and silent, moodily scratching at the base of the wagon. They hadn’t talked much on the trip, hadn’t talked much beforehand either except to agree on the eventual payment for the ride, but old Bandwagon wasn’t fond of times when folks were downtrodden, and that was the state his passenger seemed to be in.

“So tell me child,” he said, the silence of the snowy mountain breaking away at his voice “Why are you so gung-ho on taking my wagon all the way up to Canterlot City? It seemed like kind of a snap decision from where I stand.”

Mesa looked over at him, as though about to answer, but stopped. He turned back to the pies with a quiet sigh and fell silent again, clearly not interested in talking. Bandwagon still didn’t like the silence.

“Tell ya what young’un,” he said “You can ask me a question, anything you like, but you gotta do me one in return. That sound even?”

Mesa shifted again, looking up at the mountain, judging by the distance they still had a long way to go. “What happened to the other wagons?” he asked “We started with a whole caravan but they kept splitting off.”

“Well that’s a bit of a doozy there,” said Bandwagon “Let’s see now, because I don’t know what all the drivers are doin’. I know some were headed off to Manehatten, some for Trottingham, and there was one fella I know was taking the long way around to the train station.”

“Why did he do that?” asked Mesa, turning now to face the driver.

“Hold on now,” said Bandwagon “You got yer’ question already. Tell me what yer headed up to Canterlot for first and y’all get another.”

Mesa groaned “Fine,” he said “I was running away alright? Because I’m a damn white buffalo. I don’t belong in a sane world.”

Bandwagon was quiet for another moment “You’re not very good at this you know,” he said “You could’ve spared the details and had another question. Now as you were asking earlier-“

“Hold on,” said Mesa, sitting up a little straighter “I’ve got a better question. Why are you not taking the train? Wouldn’t it be faster?”

“It certainly would,” said Bandwagon, “But I cannot afford i. Now what exactly do you expect there to be for an outcast buffalo in Canterlot city?”

“Something that isn’t Appaloosa,” said Mesa, “Now do you have a wife and kids or-“

“No,” said Bandwagon “Now why do you think things will be better in Canterlot?”

“Because they probably couldn’t be worse, I should get an extra question because you wouldn’t let me finish mine.” When Bandwagon just carried on in silence, Mesa sighed “I no family why can’t you afford the train ticket?”

“Well,” said Bandwagon “I’d like to say it’s because I get paid just as much even if it’s a little bit late. But I think the real reason’s my salt tab. Have to keep that paid up to be sane you know?”

“No,” said Mesa “I’ve never had salt, and I count that as a question.”

Bandwagon chuckled “Now yer getting’ it, see that’s how to get information out of a pony who you don’t want to give yer own to. When yer old enough to lick salt that’ll be a useful skill.”

“Why do you lick so much salt then?” asked Mesa “What’s so tough about life without it?”

“I’m a trail pony,” said Bandwagon “It’s lonely and dry out there, and ya take what ye can…” he trailed off, slowing the cart “What in blazes is that?”

Mesa stood up in the cart to get a better look at what Bandwagon was talking about. A little further up the trail was what looked like a black and white pony. It was moving very slowly along the path as though feeing for each step before daring to make it. Bandwagon looked bewildered, but Mesa had seen someone like this before.

“It’s a zebra…” he said, jumping off the wagon with a thud “And it looks like… nah, Iris?” the last word was given as half of a shout, prompting a squeak from the zebra filly on the road. She didn’t turn but her ears swiveled around.

“That voice…” she said “But it couldn’t be… we left you back in the past didn’t we?” realizing she was talking down an empty path, Iris turned around to face the wagon “Mesa? Black Mesa? Is that you?”

Mesa could have laughed “Yeah, it’s me!” he said galloping over “What the Hell are you doing here kid?”

Iris squeaked and backed away slightly, surprised by the shout so close “I’m delivering some potions to Canterlot,” she said in a voice too soft to even echo around the cliffs “What about you?”

“I hitched a ride with a pie guy,” said Mesa, “Why didn’t you just take the train?”

“Oh, but I’m going to,” said Iris, managing a little smile “The sign that pointed the way to Canterlot was carved, so I could read it, and it said that it was this way. How much further is it to the station?”

“Oh yeah…” said Mesa, observing her heavily misted purple eyes “You’re… a little bit off course…”

“Well I’m going up,” said Iris, gesturing to the path “And the city’s up there at the top, I’ll get there eventually if nothing else. I’m not in the way of the cart am I?”

Mesa turned to Bandwagon, who was still looking on in puzzlement “How did you-“

“I heard it coming from forever away,” said Iris, sounding almost frustrated with the question “Wagons aren’t exactly quiet, all sorts of wood creaking and metal squeaking and the hoofsteps of the pony driving it. I’m blind not naïve.”

“Right,” said Mesa, feeling foolish “Well how about you tag along with me? I’m taking the wagon up!”

“Am I going to be hauling another one?” Bandwagon groaned, already impatient.

“Oh, I’m sorry sir,” said Iris, brushing past Mesa to stand in front of Bandwagon, glass clinking as she rummaged in the bag on her flank “I had some bits for the train, but if you wouldn’t mind I could pay for you to take me up?”

“Oh, come now,” said Bandwagon, expression softening “A filly lost on the mountain, I can’t charge you for a ride. You’ll be better company than the annoying buffalo anyway.”

“Hey!” Mesa shouted.

“Oh, I know,” she said “I’m very sorry for him too, maybe I could cover his fare instead? I just don’t feel right accepting such a big favor and not giving anything in return.”

“I said no charge, I mean no charge,” said Bandwagon “Some bigwig up in the city’s payin good bits for him to go up apparently. Now climb in, I’ve already got a delivery to make and if we dawdle we won’t get there in time. This is a big shot job or something.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Iris, smiling as she felt around the wagon, found purchase, and clambered aboard. Mesa wasn’t a second behind her, barely missing the pies as he vaulted in beside her. And just like that Bandwagon was off again, a little bit faster to accommodate he delay.

“So what’s in the bag anyway?” asked Mesa, noticing the glint of glass from Iris’ pack “You said you were carrying something up there too right?”

“Just some potions,” said Iris, opening the saddlebag “The dark blue ones are night vision, that’s what I’m taking up to the top. The red ones are in case I get hurt, and the green ones are… experimental…” she procured another full of perfectly clear fluid, tapped it twice, then popped the cork and drank from it.

“Well what was that?” Mesa asked.

“That was water.” Said Iris.

“Oh,” said Mesa, leaning towards the bag “Well then what about-“

He was cut off as he reached towards her luggage as a metallic object fell from the heights right between them. They jerked apart towards opposite sides of the wagon as the thing bounced out and tumbled away down the mountain.

“What was that?” Iris exclaimed.

Mesa stayed silent for a short while, stunned by pure disbelief. He shook his head slowly and turned to Iris again.

“It was a toaster oven.”

Author's Note

"I came so close to making your life hell just then..."

And yet, toaster oven.

"You literally stopped that from happening... with a toaster oven..."

And the best part is that no one is even going to know what exactly I did.

"How can you do this with a toaster oven?"

I just bought a toaster oven actually, so now I'm getting more descreptive and it's going to be ever the more fun.

"How about you stop interfering with my story?"

How about you stop pretending you didn't ask for this, anyway, signing off.

"That wasn't an authors note! That was an argument! I have things to say!"

See you next week everyone!

-CC
"You cut that ou-"
-i

Chapter 8: Charm

Lightning had ended up arriving very late to the castle, along with an Octavia who felt as though she had seen too much. It turned out that the passage Shadow had taken all those years ago was on a steep downhill from its origin, meaning a venture through it from the pizzeria was exactly the opposite.

To make things worse, it was dark, darker than anything the refined music pony had ever experienced. Lightning had been in similar situations before but had yet to develop any real tolerance. The tunnel wasn’t kept either, and it was so full of bugs, living and dead, that sense of touch was ignored to remain sane. The ceiling was barely high enough for Lightning to walk comfortably up the passage, but Octavia was in an awkward sort of crawl. For an agonizing hour and a half the two felt their way through the musky darkness, smelling the fetid odor of the place all the way.

By the time they emerged through a tiny door under the main foyer stairs both were dusty and miserable. The red of Lightning’s fur had been ruined to a dusky clay color and Octavia’s well-groomed mane had become a cobwebbed mess. Overall, they came out of the archives looking dirty and out of place.

The charge to greet them in the hall at the time happened to be Celestia herself. The princess was on her way back from a late lunch when she encountered what she at first assumed to be two miner ponies or rock farmers. It wasn’t until a distance of less than three meters that she recognized the cutie mark of Octavia Von Clef.

“My goodness…” she said “You two are in a state…”

“Someone has got to be put on secret passage upkeep,” said Lightning, shaking the dust out of her tail while Octavia bowed low “Get someone on that, will you sun-butt?”

“Lightning!” Octavia snapped, feeling her stomach drop out at the comment “I am so very sorry princess, my student is irreverent at the absolute worst of times, I’ll see to it that she’s well disciplined.”

“I think she can be forgiven,” said Celestia, actually cracking a slight smile. Sun-butt was Luna’s timeless nickname from their filly years and nostalgia beat out any anger she was experiencing “To what do I owe the pleasure of the premier cellist of Manehatten to be in our halls?”

“The pleasure is mine princess,” said Octavia, flinching again as Lightning sneezed, releasing the dust on her coat to settle on the floor “We’ve been hired for the small event taking place here tomorrow evening. Would it be too much to ask where the showers might be?”

Celestia was resisting the urge to laugh. The cellist had played locally before and always to a very excitable crowd. Now here she was, looking as though she had crawled through a dusty tunnel with the little filly (was she maroon or was that the dust?) who was just as feisty as her own sister.

The princess reclaimed her composure before speaking “The baths are on the second floor, right of the foyer, that is to say, off this room here. I think your young friend could use a full workup…”

“I’m fine!” said Lightning, dislodging a little more grit from behind one ear and totally ignoring the little tan spider clambering across her mane “Believe me I’ve been worse, there was this one time-“

“Thank you!” Octavia said, stepping between Lightning and Celestia as quick as she could “We had better be headed there now! If it’s not too much trouble could you send someone to get us and bring us to our room later?”

“I believe that can be arranged,” said Celestia “I hope to see you both at dinner?”

“Of course!” said Octavia.

“But…” Lightning’s argument guiled under the daggers shooting from Octavia’s eyes “Okay…”

The gray mare forcefully herded the little filly towards the stairs. Celestia watched them go, wondering what in Equestria Luna had planned for tomorrow. On a similar note, however, she had the uncanny feeling she recognized the filly with the full moon on her flank. She would ask her sister about it now, but she was already feeling trepidation.

Octavia herself was livid, desperate to get away from the princess while she still looked like a mess. Her cheeks were burning as she turned to face Lightning outside the door to the baths.

“What exactly do you call that stunt?” she hissed “Sun-butt? What were you thinking? That is the princess of Equestria you were talking to and you’re grasping for silly names?”

“Oh she’s just one of the princesses,” said Lightning “And Luna’s way cooler. Hey, do you think we’ll get to meet Shining Armor on this trip> I know he’s on leave after the whole Tyrek thing but-“

“You insulted the princess of Equestria!” Octavia found her voice rising ever further “And you have the gall to ask about your dreamy boy-toy? As long as we are in Canterlot you are in my charge, you understand? When you get to meet the duke I don’t want any of this attitude, and if you see Celestia again I want you to apologize.”

Lightning’s gaze seemed to glaze slightly when Octavia mentioned the duke, apparently triggering some memory, there was a brief silence following the scolding before Lightning found it in her to release a snappy comeback.

“Yeah, whatever ‘mom’,” she said, intentionally brushing past “I’m going to have a look around, okay? Meet you back here in an hour when you finish washing your hair?”

Octavia gave up “Fine!” she said “But if I hear that one iota of this castle has been disturbed by you then I’ll have some choice words for your brother when we get back to Ponyville!”

Lightning felt slightly cautious after her brother was mentioned, but didn’t break stride. “Got it!” she called over her shoulder as she trotted off on some unknown agenda.

“And Vinyl wants kids…” Octavia scoffed as she pushed the doors open, looking well forward to a bath to relieve the stress of reigning in that red devil of a filly.

Lightning could feel an odd prickling in her stomach, one, had she been slightly less adamant, she would’ve recognized as a nervous sensation. The layout of the castle was painfully familiar, on past the red door of the throne room, south towards the rear-left tower. She still thought even now about how they had crashed down the guest rooms opening every door in their way, and how Shadow had infiltrated a room through the window, technically not voiding a verbal contract. She remembered even the twinge of jealousy as a white furred unicorn had attempted to capture his fancy.

It was all so long ago but so vivid in her mind that it might as well have been the events of last week’s lunch. Her lessons blended together day-by-day into a collage of events she could make nothing out of. Memory only seemed important before that time. Even as she walked the halls her sixth sense caught notes of Luna’s Lullaby and her heart fluttered. Those were cords so close to her that she didn’t dare play them.

Just as she was preparing to turn to the final hallway she noticed a young mare in frills and lace standing, hesitant, at the corner. She wanted to go on more than anything but this was just way too odd. Curiosity or reunion, this was a choice that took annoying to a new height.

Nerves fought on the side of curiosity and she stood next to the mare, peeking down the hallway. A plain, white toaster oven was in the middle of the floor, dented on one side as though someone had kicked it. Nothing seemed particularly out of place in the situation other than the maid.

“Excuse me,” said Lightning, trying to keep any hint of condescension out of her voice “What are you doing?”

The maid looked down at Lightning, shuffling slightly “Well I’m supposed to be vacuuming this hallway, it’s my first day you see. But I’m slightly afraid to go out there now.”

“Got a phobia of kitchen appliances?” asked Lightning.

“Only when they’re flying…” said the maid “I’m sorry, that sounds crazy. Duke Shadow was in the hall about ten minutes ago and he kicked that down the way there very forcibly. I don’t want to go out there again until I know if he’s coming back…”

Lightning snorted, some things never did change “Well where was he headed?” she asked “I, um, have to take a memo to him.”

The maid considered this for a moment, mumbling what sounded like a schedule “He would be talking to the party planners by now, it is his party after all. His needs must be tailored to.”

“He’s turning eleven tomorrow…” said Lightning, her tone very similar “I guess I’ll go find him.”

She turned down the hallway, eyeing the toaster oven curiously as she passed. “Be careful!” the maid shouted.

There was a consideration in Lightning’s mind to barge down and interrupt whatever meetings Shadow was having, after all, her visit was more important than any of that right? The only problem with that was that wouldn’t be quite enough shock value for her standard. That and she didn’t have the slightest idea where in this enormous building those meetings would be taking place. With nothing better to do she committed to turn at random, into a doorway she didn’t know.

Such an action brought about the smell of crisp paper and pine, the feel of rough, red hall carpet giving way to a smoother, blue shag texture, and a vision of every wall connected to narrow walkways, each made of one thing: books. Bookshelves, tall and almost menacing about the place, with only a single balcony exit to interrupt the pattern and display the city below. Everything in the room gave off an air of something old and somehow magical. Though Lightning didn’t know it, Princess Twilight had lived in this very room before she had even been born.

Lately the Canterlot Castle library had been in much more public use, though it wasn’t necessarily popular. The citizens of the city were more often found collecting texts than actually reading them, a prominent reason why Lightning felt very alone as she walked along the bottom level. Everything was in such pristine condition given what it was… Light’s only experience with libraries had been Ponyville Public, and then only sparingly. There the books had been handled so often that many had become totally illegible. The books here were in a complete contrast to that idea, not a single spine dented or frayed. She shrugged the notion, unicorns were weird, and this wasn’t news.

Though on the subject of unicorns, she was just able to catch the quiet hum of magic from one of the walkways above, meaning one was in fact present. She sighed, hoping to avoid confrontation with the stranger. As much as she disliked unicorns she had the dull feeling they disliked her even more.

Lightning picked a route at random, following a tight spiral staircase up to the next level in search of something that hopefully would not be literature with which to take up her time. A comic seemed ideal but she had a silent doubt that there would be anything like that here. Still, no penalty to try, and she took quickly to one of her least favorite activities, browsing books. In fact she was making an extra-special effort to look at the books and nowhere else, ensuring she would not catch the eye of the unicorn she knew was somewhere around here…

This, of course, sent her toppling over a book lying on the floor right into the unidentified pony she had been trying to avoid. She caught a flash of blue as she tumbled over and under the stranger until they came to a stop a dozen feet away. Nothing was going well…

Lightning looked up at the pony now on top of her and breath sound stopped. The filly above looked just a little older than herself, her coat a bright sky blue with a mane of matching navy. A dim light seemed to pulse somewhere in those ocean colored locks as though she was harboring fairies to nest in her mane. A dull tipped horn was still buzzing faintly on her forehead, glowing a very slight yellow. When her eyes opened, seeming to do so in slow motion, they were revealed to be the same color as her gentle magical glow, staring right into Light’s own. The moment drowned her and she was oblivious to the voice until several moments after she heard it.

“Huh?” she mumbled.

“I asked if you were alright,” said the blue filly, tilting her head as she watched Lightning pierce her with her eyes “You seem a little out of it, maybe we should get you to the infirmary.”

“Yeah…” said Lightning, able to agree with anything that lovely voice said. At least until the meaning actually caught up with her “I mean no!” she exclaimed, quickly scooting out from under the unicorn, glad her fur color was useful at hiding her blush “I’m fine, oh Celestia, I’m sorry, I didn’t hurt you or anything right?”

“Just my concentration,” said the filly, her horn lighting yellow again, several scattered books floated into piles on the floor again, “I’ve been working my way through some old spell books for ideas, total drag. Reading you know? Why isn’t there like a resident mage to talk to?”

“Yeah!” said Lightning, coming back to her senses as she perceived common ground with the stranger “Who in Equestria has time to sit down and read anything anymore?”

Somewhere far away from the two fillies a disgruntled author wants to kick her.

The unicorn giggled, “If you’re so convinced of that what are you doing in a library? You’re so interested in looking at books you ran right into me.”

“Oh, boredom,” said Lightning, an invisible blush taking her again “I’ve got someone I need to meet up with and it’s going to be awhile, took a random door. I’m sure you know how it is.”

“Sort of,” said the unicorn, resisting the urge to giggle again “I forgot to mention, I’m Charm, Charm Artifice. Figure anyone who can be clumsy enough to trip over a pony and interesting enough to talk to them afterwards should know my name?”

“Heh, yeah,” said Lightning “Oh, I’m Lightning, um, Lightning Strike.”

“Your parents had no imagination, like at all,” said Charm, cocking an eyebrow “But that’s regular I guess, no offense! What do you do, build tesla coils or something?”

“If a tesla coil is some kind of instrument… I could learn to play it maybe?” said Lightning “I’m a musician, guitarist actually, I’m playing at the party tomorrow.”

“Ah, I’m just using the library,” said Charm “I wouldn’t usually though, I hate all the hustle in the castle. Worst place to study ever to be honest, but I can’t take the books with me.”

“Sounds rough,” said Lightning, her eyes trailing to the three-dimensional triangle on Charm’s flank. Or, was that just a bunch of connected rectangles? How were they bending like that and still connecting? Not bending? What was going on with this girl’s cutie mark? She had a nice flank…

“Yeah, no joke,” the next comment jolted Lightning “There’s not a lot of stuff on illusion spells here anyway.”

“Oh, cool,” said Lightning, feeling all this information whizz uselessly over her head “Um, if you don’t mind me asking, what is your cutie mark supposed to be?” she felt a little out of bounds asking this, some ponies considered it rude to ask what another’s mark stood for.

“That?” said Charm “That’s an infinity triangle. I like to think it’s pretty unique…”

“Well what does it mean?” asked Lightning.

“Oh, well have you heard of M.C. Escher?” asked Charm, skimming over a few more books, “He was a famous unicorn artist years and years ago. I think the triangle was one of his designs. His paintings were famous for one thing…”

Lightning was afraid to ask, but Charm seemed interested in showing her regardless. A flash of yellow consumed Lightning’s field of vision for a full five seconds before she stared out again. The world had turned black and white, looking like it had been drawn with a pencil. A very good pencil, but it was monochrome to the extreme. Stairs were everywhere, on the walls, the ceiling, and the windows that looked like they lead to nowhere. There was a sudden uncertainty as to which way was up as she watched Charm, suddenly meters away, walking one of the staircases sideways.

And in the next instant it was gone, leaving Lightning feeling dizzy and disoriented. She was back in the library and nothing else seemed to have changed. Her heart was racing as she turned back towards a smirking Charm to ask what had just happened.

“Illusions,” she answered before the question “You’ve never been in one before huh? Don’t worry none of it’s real, but it can throw you for kind of a loop if you aren’t prepared for it.”

“You just turned the whole library into a sketch!” Lightning exclaimed, turning around to confirm everything had, indeed, returned to normalcy “How the heck did you do that? It’s like master mage stuff to do something to a room this big!”

“I didn’t do anything to the room,” said Charm, giggling slightly “I did mess with your head though, that’s a lot easier.”

“So you’re making me see things?” Lightning asked.

“That’s the general idea of it, yeah,” said Charm “I can do public illusions everyone sees too, but they aren’t that powerful. Would you like to see one?”

“If it’s not, like, interrupting,” said Lightning, obviously trying to sound casual through her enormous curiosity “Like, I’ve got stuff to do too, so if-“

“Shut up,” said Charm, breaking into a wide smile and pulling Lightning close “Close your eyes okay?”

At a loss for breath Lightning nodded and silently complied. The hum of magic intensified as she kept her eyes tight shut, waiting for some sensation to show the magic had worked, or maybe that there was some other agenda. She didn’t know, trusting herself to this unicorn.

“Okay!” said Charm “You can look now!”

When Lightning opened her eyes she didn’t immediately recognize what she was looking at. Charm was still that painfully close inch away but the sight of her seemed to flicker, dyed an odd orange as though in a dancing light. Lightning looked down to her hooves, at where the orange glow around them faded purple and then blue, flowing and dancing like boiling water. She squeaked and jumped back as she realized what she was looking at.

Charm was almost laughing “Never walked through fire before?” she teased “Don’t worry, it’s nice and warm.” She turned a circle in the dancing flames, tossing the red filly a wink.

Lightning moved with caution back to the flames, waving a hoof about them in curious awe. “I don’t feel anything,” she said, half to herself “It’s not even warm.”

“Well of course not ya dork,” said Charm, the glow of her horn fading and taking the fire along with it “That’s because it’s an illusion, weren’t you listening? It looks like it’s there but it’s not. It’s more fun as a prank than anything really, you should see the look on your face.”

Whatever look Charm was relishing slipped off Lightning’s face as a scowl took over “You know I wasn’t really scared right? I was just letting you know how good of a job you did. I have a friend who trots around in real fire all the time.”

“Sounds like quite the friend,” said Charm, cocking one eyebrow “Tell me, does he hang out with the human you’re friends with too? I feel like I might have seen them together.”

“I’m serious!” said Lightning “That’s who I was going to meet when I came in here, in fact-“

Shadow’s state of mind had been on a roller coaster since the day began, and the mission statement he had received was helping matters about as much as a hole in his head. The passage had vanished into nothing almost as soon as he was out of it, leaving his silent wonder to be if the whole thing had been imagined. Given the stakes he wasn’t sure whether it would be more of a risk to assume it was truth or fiction.

His senses were still in fine shape though, demonstrated by the throbbing pain in one hoof. After over an hour of discussion with the party planners he had gone back up the halls to the tower. The toaster oven he had a fateful encounter with earlier was still right where he left it, undisturbed, smug-looking. He promptly kicked it out one of the high windows to disturb some pony else.

With that taken care of he got to thinking, as there was quite a lot of thinking to do. No deadline had been given for the task but given its requirements he didn’t want to dawdle. On the other hoof the party was tomorrow, and a lot of ponies had put work into making it absolutely perfect. The trepidation of leaving before that was less out of pity for them and more out of his desire not to miss the festivities.

In a huff he walked past his own staircase, coming to the conclusion that he would compromise. There were still details he was fuzzy on in the first place, those being what the best way to execute the mission would be, as well as precisely where this “Great Cape” place was.

With thoughts of a continent shaped like a DC character he turned towards the library, agitated wings picking up dust in little puffs as he walked. In his wake a young maid peeked out from the corner, found it to be free of the toaster oven, and got to sweeping.

Out of all the possible places to look for information, there was really one consistent staple, the library, his least favorite place ever. It was a public resource now, opened by Twilight herself when she decided the books were really being hoarded rather than used. When he had first heard this announcement Shadow had hoped it would become an interesting hub for him to meet ponies from all over the world. But it wasn’t. There were a precious few scholars who bothered to use the place, and when they did they were less interesting and more… well… insane… treating the library as some precious treasure that they had to treat with reverence. He didn’t really like ponies who were reverent about much of anything.

And now he was just hoping it would be one of those oh-so-common times when it was as empty and quiet as a tomb. Especially because among all those high bookshelves were ridiculously difficult to navigate, that is to say, it was a Dewey decimal system and he didn’t even know where to begin with that. He had developed a private enjoyment of reading over the last few years, when the games ran out the bookshelf yielded wonders, but when it came to number systems he didn’t even know where to begin.

But the logical place was the bottom, and that’s where he was, trailing along the lines of literature as the numbers slowly moved upward. No maps, no resources, just a lot of fantasy stories, it seemed to be the starting genre… He would have to come back here some time when he was in more of a private setting because these looked fantastic…

From somewhere above he could hear voices, mares talking, probably some scholars. He was already dreading recognition should they notice him, the last thing he wanted now was conversation that could yield to questions about why he was in here in the first place. He really didn’t have a good answer for that anyway.

And yet the bottom floor yielded nothing of use to him, a second check of the whole of the floor confirmed that. He had a vague memory of maps somewhere on a higher level, and supposed that might be a good place to start. Voices, or a map, that was the question of the hour to see if he could or couldn’t just avoid the scholars he was certain were up there. At least he was quiet about how he went about scaling the ladder, and when he turned to the two ponies seated near the railing he paused. That coat… it was an almost familiar sort of red, and that blue was rare in and of itself.

The next word more escaped him than was actually formed, but there it was out in the open, attracting their attention as he said “Lightning?”

Author's Note

"Well this has gone about how everyone planned it now hasn't it?"

I suppose it has, do you figure that this might be a first bout of cooperation?

"Of course not..."

Hmm, good call, at least from your perspective, unfortunately for you this is playing to my benefit, you might want to be careful going forward, i.

"We shall see, Comet, we shall see..."

-i
-CC

Chapter 9: Reuinion

Author's Note

Blippity blop, alright, this chapter is going up a day early because I actually got the whole thing done tuesday, and I'm going to be incredibly busy all weekend. So there you go guys, a boon, you won't wait in suspense for the reunion any longer than you have to... but you have to wait an extra set of hours for the next bit. Have at it, dont hurt yourselves.

Chapter 9: Reuinion

The flashbulb memory was still not quite there. When Lightning turned to see who had spoken she didn’t have any immediate recollection of the voice. In fact, the badly burnt Pegasus who was standing at the ladder wasn’t immediately recognized. How had this pony gotten her name? Was he with party planning?

Shadow was just as confused as she was the single spoken word a question in itself. The blue and red stirred something in the back of his mind, but she looked almost nothing like the filly he remembered. This girl was taller, had longer hair, and was more nimble than muscular. The word had come to his mind unconsciously and fluttered out of his mouth before he could catch it, an apology for the mistaken name already on his lips…

And then their eyes met, the green and the red saw one another and saw familiarity. The pain, the adventure, the life was all still in those eyes, shining like sunlight reflecting one another, full of familiarity. The smile happened together, but in Shadow the tears came first. Lightning had no such spill as she launched herself forward, almost toppling the Pegasus in a desperate hug.

“Huh…?” said Charm, eyeing the sudden and seemingly random exchange.

Shadow finished the words “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, holding back a choke “Your brother… he said?”

“He’s got no idea,” said Lightning, pulling away and locking eyes with him again “I came here with my music teacher, one in a million opportunity…” she trailed away, pressing her hooves over Shadow’s coat, confirming his realism in the few remaining bolts of soft grey.

“That’s amazing…” he said, bringing a hoof up to wipe his eyes, reluctant to show weakness despite the tender moment “God… how long has I been?”

They finally pulled away, and another fact came to light, a fact that left Lightning gleeful and Shadow in stunned fury.

“I’m taller than you.” Said Lightning, her smile turning into more of a smirk.

“By like an inch!” Shadow exclaimed, his wings flaring to make himself look bigger, which worked “You’re kidding, you’ve got to be kidding!”

“Little Shadow!” Lightning had clearly only just begun, enveloping him in her grasp again and rubbing his hair in a sharp noogie “Hey does that make you the honorary little brother or whatever?" Do you remember that?”

“Get off!” Shadow’s voice cracked as he struggled, and to his great surprise, broke free of her grip “I’ll tell the guards you held a duke hostage if you aren’t careful.”

“Duke, huh?” said Lightning, backing off a tiny bit “I thought they always introduced you as the honorary prince?”

“That’s what a duke is?” said Shadow “Like, Cadence would be next on the throne, since she’s Celestia’s,” the next word was lost to the sound of a toaster oven going off somewhere in the castle “But because she has the crystal honor Luna would take her place, but she’s not a descendent, she’s the sister, so she’s a duchess, grand duchess because she’s next in line, making her heir, me, a duke.”

Lightning tilted her head “Here’s what I heard, ‘Blah, blah, blah, royalty shmolalty, duke!” she giggled “Not that I care, aren’t they like immortal anyway? So why does it matter?”

“Well, I never thought about that…” said Shadow, feeling suddenly insignificant.

“Look,” Charm’s voice came up behind the two “You obviously have got lots of catching up to do, but could someone let me know what’s going on?”

“We’re old friends,” Lightning and Shadow spoke in unison, then glared at each other for it.

“Right, well that’s great and all, but we were kind of having a talk,” said Charm “And it’s rude enough for you to barge in on it in the first place, no ‘excuse’ me or anything, and for another you look like kind of a mess.” Her eyes narrowed in disdain “Just, why are you here, and can you make it quick?”

Shadow felt a nerve go off, he wasn’t a fan of that attitude. “Same as you I’m guessing, I need to find some info. But I think seeing an old friend is worth not finding it for a few minutes, don’t you think?”

“Right,” said Charm “Well how about you tell me what you’re after and I’ll go get it for you while you two are figuring each other out.”

“The great cape.” Said Shadow, squinting at her “I kind of need to know what- err, where it is.”

“Have you looked at a map recently?” Charm mumbled “Give me a minute, I’ll go get it.”

As Charm trotted towards the downward ladder Lightning turned back to Shadow “What’s the Great Cape?” she asked “are you making some kind of diplomatic mission there or something?”

“Not exactly,” said Shadow, casting for a change of subject “So you’re some kind of big-shot now right? Your cool talent is some sort of rare thing everyone wants to see right?”

To Shadow’s relief, Lightning latched on to the distraction “Oh my god, you have no idea,” she said “It’s the historical ponies society or whatever who’s the biggest pain in the flank. I swear, Octavia’s had to drag me all over Equestria and back with all their fancy houses they want me to find music from. And I get practice whenever I don’t have to do that and she still expects me to play at gigs and competitions…”

Maybe he hadn’t wanted her quite that distracted “Sounds nuts,” said Shadow.

“Oh you wouldn’t believe it!” Lightning hardly broke stride “The competitions are the worst I think, because I don’t have to practice for them or anything. I take one look at the judges and then I know what they want and how they want it. I feel so bad for all the other foals when that happens, they practice so hard for that and here’s me just blowing them completely out of the water. But oh god, concerts! Whenever I have to play in front of a crowd it’s such a living Hell because I look out at all those ponies and there’s so much music on their minds it hurts just to comprehend it all! And they always call for encores and Octavia doesn’t let me disappoint them and, well, you know?”

Shadow had gone quiet, managing only a nod as the talking finally ceased in the search of affirmation. “You probably didn’t want to hear it all like that huh?” said Lightning, feeling sheepish “What have you been up to? Being a duke is probably a full time job, huh?”

“Not really,” said Shadow “I mean, ponies are sort of getting the message that I’m not a people Pegasus and leaving me alone for it, so being a duke is kind of worthless?”

“Oh come on,” said Lightning “You’re covered in burns, something cool must’ve been happening recently. Were you fighting some bad guys? Going hoof to hoof with Discord? Wrestling horrible chimeras into submission with nothing but your brute strength and the spurts of fire around you?”

“Where do you even come up with these things?” asked Shadow.

“Just a story Applebloom told the class a long time ago,” said Lightning “Anyway, seriously, you were all poofy and grey before and now you look like barbeque Pegasus. There’s got to be a story behind that right?”

“It’s just meteor hunting,” said Shadow, rubbing the back of his neck “Like, you remember what I did with the whole Discord and the dome thing and then again with winter wrap-up? I’m still practicing that and it’s kind of a high-risk job...”

“Wait,” said Lightning “You mean that thing you do where you fly up into space, get a meteor and just throw it down to the ground?”

“It’s not space, there’s no air to push against and fly through in space.” Said Shadow “It’s the lower stratosphere, and there’s a lot of space junk there because the region of space for Equestria in really thick with asteroids or something. Like, Equestria, not you know, right where you’re standing. And I can’t just throw it, those things way literally tons! It’s a whole fight down to the ground making sure no pony gets hurt.”

“So you are literally fighting meteors?” asked Lightning.

“Sort of.” Said Shadow.

“Awesome.” Said Lightning.

“Hey, losers,” said Charm, having found the library resource and dropped it between them, “I got the thing you needed, back up a little, it takes a lot of space.”

Light and Shadow did a quick step backwards as Charm unrolled the huge scroll. It was new-looking, made of real modern paper instead of the old papyrus that most of the articles here consisted of, and the reason was apparent. It was a map of Equestria, not only the country, but the whole of the planetary sphere on a curved illustration marked with the most up-to-date borders, roads, and even oceanic and aerial trade routes. The Equestrian Nation was a huge, dominating section of the largest continent, a shadow of the empire seen on some older parchments but still the largest single nation by far. There were some annotations claiming the bordering islands for them as well, save for a larger landmass way in the south. To the west the border ended with a large peninsula that seemed to be divided into dozens of tiny countries. North of that was a continent just a bit smaller than Equestria, divided as well, but in much larger pieces. It was at the very southern point of that landmass that Shadow pointed and exclaimed.

“That’s it!”

“What do you mean, that’s it?” said Charm “You’re pointing at half a continent…”

“That’s where it says Great Cape,” said Shadow, turning on Charm with narrowed eyes “Which just so happens to be what I came here to find out about.”

“And unless you’re walking there, location doesn’t really help you,” said Charm “And don’t say you’re flying yourself, a wonderbolt couldn’t stay airborne for a hundredth of that journey.”

Shadow found himself suddenly struck without a response, fortunately Lightning stepped in for him. “Well then what would be helpful?” she said “What sort of place is it? What are the ponies like? What’s there that we might be after?” she turned to Shadow at the last question, making it extra clear that the comment was directed at him.

Charm snickered “Well I can tell you this much, there aren’t actually a lot of ponies there. Yeah, some from when there used to be Equestrian colonies and all, but those are mostly earth ponies. Pegasi aren’t really capable of living in harsher environments and most unicorns just straight up wouldn’t want to.”

Shadow was fuming by now. “What do you mean by harsher environments?” Lightning asked, now more intrigued by the topic than Shadow himself.

“Well there’s a lot of dangerous animals there,” said Charm “Lions, cheetahs, dassies, they’re all native to the region. You seriously didn’t know any of this? It’s like third grade geography.”

“I didn’t have a third grade,” said Shadow and Lightning, totally in synch.

“Oh, well,” said Charm, suddenly puffing her chest, glad at the chance to expound “It’s the native continent of the zebra you know, they outnumber ponies ten to one there. They’ve always been in conflict with the nasty stuff out there I hear. There’s buffalo, not the kind you know, they’re more aquatic or something… And elephants! Let me tell you, elephants don’t live anywhere but there. From what I read they’re some of the wisest people on the planet.”

“That’s nice,” said Lightning “Now what’s special about the place anyway? Is there some sort of special magic in the place?”

“Well no more than here I suppose,” said Charm, shrugging “Probably less actually, there’s no unicorns out there. In a lot of ways it’s like the earth pony villages that don’t run on magic, but if you’re close to the actual cape it’s about as modern as Manehatten.”

“Really?” said Lightning “I always heard zebras lived out in really muddy places eating wild plants and sleeping in huts.”

Shadow and Charm both turned to Lightning, looking at her as though she had grown an extra eye.

“Zecora does neither of those things…” said Shadow “And neither did-“ he stopped here, banishing the thought of that before it could really form.

“You do know that zebras make up about four percent of the Equestrian population right?” said Charm “They’re the second largest minority group with the buffalo just ahead with six percent. The others aside from ponies make up less than one percent.”

“You’re just full of fun facts aren’t you?” said Shadow, letting his eyes roll.

“Well I don’t think anyone asked you?” Charm said.

“No one asked you to spill on about Equestria people.” Said Shadow.

“Oh for Celestia’s sake, if you two are going to kiss now I’m going to barf!” Lighting said, wrinkling her nose.

The argument turns to her “What makes you think I would ever do something that utterly ludicrous?” said Charm, looking as though she had just been slapped.

“Well that’s how it always happens in the movies,” said Lightning, as Shadow noticed a gleam in her eye that meant she’d gotten an idea “There’s a bunch of hate and then they make out and the hate is like, gone. It’s called… contrary? Or something?”

“Comedy…” Charm reluctantly corrected.

“Comedy!” Lightning said “There you go, you two could be in, like, a comedy. Fight for a little longer and fall madly in love.” She playfully slugged Shadow’s shoulder, prompting him to unbalance “I mean, my honorary brother is ruggedly handsome in his own, err… special way…” she seemed unsure of the last statement, as though unable to really find any redeeming qualities in the pegasus.

“You’re going to be rugged if you don’t shut up here real quick…” Shadow hissed.

“I don’t care what he looks like, clearly,” said Charm, “He’s a bona fide moron.”

Lighting finally realized she was only making things worse and put herself intentionally between them “Okay!” she said “Let’s not start punching each other or anything, does anyone know what time it is?”

“Oh, um,” Charm tried to recollect herself as quickly as she could and focused her attention on the enormous hourglass near one of the windows “It’s about five, why do you ask?”

“Oh come on,” said Shadow “How do you even know that?”

“The hourglass is turned over every day at noon and midnight,” said Charm “So people who actually stay in a place like a library and learn things can keep time without ticking clocks everywhere to ruin the quiet. You would think someone who actually, you know, lives in the castle would know that.”

“I get the feeling he’s not in here very often…” said Lightning.

“What do you mean by that?” said Shadow.

“Nothing,” said Lightning, “Anyway, Shadow, when does dinner start here? Vinnie’s feels like it’s been days ago.”

Somewhere far away from Lightning an author, trying his best, wants to kick himself.

“Well, officially it starts at four, but no pony really shows up until five or six because that’s when the good stuff starts. Before then it’s just like salads and crap. Is anyone else feeling up for a hayburger? I’m really hungry.”

“You see, that’s the point she was trying to make,” said Charm “And the answer is yes, I would like to join you for dinner. Interesting and Stupid might make for good company.”

“Hey!” said Shadow “That’s not a nice thing to say about Lightning…”

Lightning brought a hoof to her face “Let’s just go,” she said, “Because yes, I’m hungry.”

The books piled around the shelves were enveloped in a yellow glow once again, along with the map as Charm worked her magic to put them back into place. “Hold on for a second?” she asked, double checking the titles on the spines.

Shadow scooted closer to Lightning and spoke as quietly as he could “Wait, were you serious about that whole comedy thing?” he asked.

“Maybe? I don’t know,” said Lightning “Why?”

“Well…” said Shadow “The whole bossy attitude is… well… it’s actually kind of hot.” He hoped he was using the right words “And god, she has a nice flank.”

“Damn does she…” Lightning agreed.

Shadow nodded sagely, then did a double take “Wait, what?”

“Nothing!” said Lightning, so very glad again for the concealment her red fur afforded “I was just agreeing with you. I have no idea what colts like.”

“Alright let’s go!” said Charm, sliding the last book onto the shelf and moving for the ladder “Last one there owes me a baked potato!”

“Oh hay no,” said Shadow, wings spreading as he leapt over the banister to glide to the bottom floor “I’m getting there first and eating every potato you could’ve gotten!”

Lightning watched the exchange vacantly, following them with a notable absence of vigor. She was feeling very conflicted and suddenly far more like Octavia than she had ever hoped to be…

Chapter 10: Refection

“So he asks if he can have one more song, right? Something from when he used to serenade his wife,” said Lightning “And I figure, you know, rich pony, probably has lots of time on his hands for writing music, probably used to be a singer or something. Anyway, I got a song pretty quick, and it was this beautiful thing and there were probably really sweet words for it, and I swear it was one of the sweetest little sonatas I’ve ever gotten to play.”

“Alright,” said Shadow “So why is this a funny story?”

“Hush, I wasn’t done,” said Lightning “Anyway, when I finish, I’m expecting all this sweetness and cuddling but when I look over his wife is staring at him all confused and she says ‘I don’t remember that one’, and I was confused then too so I told them ‘Well he sang it really recently to some pony’, and I think it clicked for me at the same time it clicked for her.”

Charm gasped “What did she do?” she asked, trying to hold back laughter.

“She was right, and well, so was I but you know, that’s just that. Last I heard she got his house in a divorce and some hot guy got her as a sugar momma. They got all sorts of official evidence he was cheating on her too, with…” Lightning got very quiet, leaning in to her two pony audience and whispering the last word “Prostitutes…”

Charm gasped again as Shadow’s eyes bugged “In Ponyville?” he said in a tone of disbelief “I thought ponies only paid for ‘that’ in places like Manehatten or Saddle Arabia.”

“I know,” said Lightning, “I was really surprised too. My brother didn’t want me to find out but it was kind of in the news. They would’ve arrested her for it too, but it turned out she was pregnant!”

“Oh no…” said Charm “She got a settlement too didn’t she? Can you imagine having to raise a foal all on your own? I can’t imagine anything worse…”

Shadow tried to hide his own self-satisfied smirk, being a colt was nice when he thought about how he would be able to miss out on possibilities like that. The expression slipped away as it dawned on him that he had been raised by a single parent himself and it had, in fact ended pretty badly…

“Yeah,” he agreed “Maybe we could talk about something else?”

They were seated at one of the tables still left in the main hall after the great relocation. There were a smattering out in the lobby but mainly the small group was pressed to the extreme edge of the table to accommodate the sudden lack of seating. Shadow was opposite the girls with two empty plates that had contained burgers and a third that still had most of one. Charm had little to eat, but Lightning had met him virtually bun for bun as they played catchup, swapping stories over the meal.

“I’ve got one,” said Charm “It’s about when I got my cutie mark!”

“When you learned how to draw a triangle!” Shadow said, sarcasm and faux paux dramatics blending into one of the most comical tones Lightning had ever heard.

“It is an infinity triangle!” Charm said, her cheeks puffing in annoyance “Fine, if you don’t want to hear about my coolest illusion ever!” she paused, reconsidered, and re-spoke “Okay not my coolest really, but it was really something.”

“Whatever you say,” said Shadow, clearly more focused on finishing his third burger. Halfway into his mouth, however, he dropped the bun and fell backwards, eyes turned into full moons of terror “What the hell?” he shouted “There’s a huge bug in my burger and… oh god I bit out of it!”

Several of the still-eating ponies looked mortified, some abandoning their own dishes to hastily stand and leave. Lightning herself was taking a closer look at her own sandwich, turning puce. Charm stayed still and calm, smirking as her horn glowed ever so slightly yellow.

“Now as I was saying,” she said “Really cool thing, it was only like a year ago. I’m a huge gravity falls fan, right? Love the whole mystery of the thing, I’ve found all the secrets. But when I saw the final episode I just absolutely fell in love with Bill Cipher.”

“There are bugs in our food and you’re talking about a TV show?” said Lightning, staring disbelievingly at Charm “What’s wrong with you?”

“There are no bugs,” said Charm, “I just felt like having some fun with the oaf,” she pointed to Shadow, who was guzzling water to try and eliminate the imagined taste “He doesn’t know about my little trick remember?”

“That is… so mean,” said Lightning, a hesitant smile creeping onto her face “Did he… taste it?”

“Well no,” said Charm “But by the look of things do you think he really had to?”

Shadow stood, looking on the verge of foaming at the mouth “What the actual buck…” he said, taking a dizzying step towards the table before stumbling away from it again “That was… so awful…”

“Oh laugh it off,” said Lightning “There wasn’t actually a bug, it was just a spell.”

“Hex,” Charm corrected “Technically illusions fall under the category of hexes, at least when cast singularly. Spells have visible effects on lots of ponies but hexes-“

“I don’t care,” said Shadow “I don’t have some weird pointy bone coming out of my head so I honestly don’t have any reason to care. Just please, stop.”

Charm gave him a look of clear discontent “You’re very rude, you know that?” she said “And totally lacking in a respectable sense of humor.”

“I just don’t like being the butt end of a joke,” said Shadow “Don’t screw with my head and we should get along just fine.”

“Not that there’s much in there to screw around with anyway,” said Charm, sneering “Hexes only work that well if you aren’t smart enough to cope with it.”

“Okay…” Lightning muttered to herself “Definitely not a thing…”

Shadow seemed to have run out of comebacks at this point, so instead of responding he stood, shook his mane into an even more unruly position, and stomped off with what he hoped was an air of confidence.

“Hey, stop that kid!”

Lightning and Shadow, used to this call referencing them, swiveled towards the voice. Charm, merely interested, turned more casually, missing entirely the sight of a large white mass barreling into Shadow head on and not stopping.

“What the hay?” said Charm, watching Shadow get carried through the hall and into the kitchen “What was that?”

Lightning stared after, equally dumbfounded “I have no idea.” She said.

“Get off of me!” Shadow shouted, trying to dislodge himself from the stuck position between two solid points “Let me go! You’ll be sent to the guillotine for kidnap of the duke of Canterlot!”

“Sorry dude!” The voice from the white mass below finally made itself known “I did not mean to do that!”

Movement ceased far too abruptly as Shadow found inertia carrying him away from the white mass, across the tiled floor, onward to slam against one of the metal refrigerators back first. He slumped, dazed by the impact, before looking up to view his assailant. White fluff, beady orange eyes, and horns that signified him as one of the buffalo, this strange character looked like bad news from every angle.

“Who are you?” said Shadow, taking a firmer stance “What are you trying to do here?”

“Long story,” said the buffalo “I heard there was free food or something going on in here, and I’ve been pretty much living on apple pie for the last few days so that sounded like a chill deal. Then these two dudes in armor stopped me at the door asking what, and I quote, ‘some dirty buffalo is doing trying to get into the hall’. And naturally I was kind of mad about that, because you know, that’s racial profiling, but I went up to him and said that I heard there was free food and I wanted some.”

“Pie…?” asked Shadow.

The buffalo carried on undeterred “And he said ‘We don’t feed riffraff like you’ and he poked me with his spear. Not like stabby poke you know, just a love tap, but that was incredibly rude! So I decide to just buck it, because I’m hungry and these guys are the worst guards ever so I kind of shoved past him into the cafeteria thing. Then he starts shouting and telling everyone to get me so I took off running and that’s when I bumped into you.” Finally he paused, squinting, then exclaimed “Shadow! You son of a dog, it’s been years man!”

Shadow, already long outside rational fields of understanding, gawked at the buffalo “Do I know you?” he asked.

“It’s me dude,” said the buffalo “Mesa, your old time-travel buddy? You and I tried to start a war!”

Shadow’s gut reaction was to mention that was on the other and he had played no part, but other things were clicking worse “Black Mesa?” he said, looking incredulously at his assailant’s pale, white fur “Really?”

Mesa’s ears flattened “Yeah, I know,” he said “Load of manure, it’s not just freakish and mutant it’s ironic. But dude, old times’ sake, you’ve got to get these guards off my tail!”

“Mesa, I’m a duke,” said Shadow “I don’t really have the authority to get you out of whatever mess you’re in right now…”

Almost on cue the door to the kitchen swung wide, and a white furred unicorn in gold armor burst in, looking livid. “Alright you little rogue,” he said, lowering his spear and walking towards Mesa “Get away from the duke and no one gets hurt.”

Mesa made a slightly exaggerated effort to put Shadow between the guard and himself “Come on man,” he said “You’re smart, help me out here.”

Shadow sighed “It’s alright Dawnstar,” he said, addressing the guard “He’s one of the guests for tomorrow. That little stunt is kind of his idea of a practical joke.”

Dawnstar looked baffled, almost dropping his spear in shock “But,” he said “He’s a buffalo, a goddamn monster of one too. He has white fur!”

“You don’t think that’s just a little bit of a stretch?” asked Shadow “He’s, like, twelve. What sort of havoc do you think he’s going to wreak in such a ‘monstrous’ way? Well, I mean, any havoc that I haven’t already taken care of?”

Dawnstar slowly raised his spear back to his side, glaring hard at Mesa “If he so much as speaks out of turn he’s going to the stocks…” he said “And believe me, we’re all watching…”

“Thanks Dawn,” said Shadow, kicking Mesa before he could make a retaliatory remark, “And don’t worry, we’ll keep him so in line he’ll lose two dimensions!”

“I hope so…” said Dawnstar, slowly turning and taking his leave.

Shadow’s artificial smile didn’t so much slide away as it did careen off into the distance. When he turned on Mesa again he looked something beyond livid. “What the buck was that?” he said, desperately trying to keep his voice down.

“I already told you,” said Mesa “And he did too, that guy’s a total racist.”

“I don’t care,” said Shadow “You’re not even supposed to be in Canterlot, hell, no one is even supposed to know you exist! I’ve genuinely tried to be calm and tolerant today, but when a literal ghost from the past turns up and tackles me in the dining hall he had better be bringing some answers with him about why he’s here…”

“Easy, flyboy,” said Mesa, about as intimidated by this outburst as he would’ve been by an angry kitten “I just took off for a while, to adventure, you know? I figure you can get behind that.”

The rage slipped away from Shadow, slightly. A very small and locked away part of his mind stirred at the mention of an ideal he had once held in high worship. “Still,” he said, trying to suppress the growing sense of empathy “Why here? Why now of all times? Is there something going on in Appaloosa?”

“Well, no,” said Mesa “There was a cart heading this way, I remembered I had a prominent contact among royalty and I figured it’d be cool. Oh yeah, I kind of need some bits.”

The anger stepped back through the door of Shadow’s mental palace and lit a firework “Bits?” he exclaimed “Your only goal here is to get money?”

“No way!” said Mesa, but his eyes betrayed the lie as he cast around for an alternative “I heard there was a really chill party going on here and I wanted to get in on that, you’re hosting right? You could totally get me in!”

Shadow wasn’t even sure what to think anymore, but somewhere an idea surfaced that would be both fun and vengeful at the same time “Tell you what,” he said “I’m not giving you any bits, but if you can get them for yourself feel free to join the party.”

Mesa found himself stunned “But,” he stammered “Dude, I’ve got to pay the guy who gave me a ride here, he’s going to kill me if I don’t. Just, like, twenty bits man, come on!”

“Sorry,” said Shadow, brushing past him towards the exit of the kitchen “But really, I’m not sorry. Good luck!”

Out in the hall Lightning and Charm had watched Shadow be carried away with emotions spinning somewhere between shock and amusement. There was a thought, briefly, of going after him to see just what had occurred, but the sight of a guard running to the scene deterred that. In this case it very well might be better to just avoid trouble, as fun as it might be to fling forward.

“You think he’s okay?” Charm queried.

“Yeah,” said Lightning “He’s kind of stupid but he’s made it out of worse. He’ll be fine.”

“Worse?” said Charm “That guy looked like a weird colored buffalo. Those things can run as fast as fifty kilometers per hour! Poor duke is probably a bruised and beaten mess right now.”

“Oh, no,” said Lightning “He has most definitely had more painful experiences. You didn’t see his cutie mark did you?”

“The asteroid?” Charm said “Yeah, of course I saw it. I figure he’s an astronomer or something? It does go with the whole sun, moon, stars thing the royal family has going, celestial bodies and all.”

“He chases stars,” said Lightning “Shooting stars. He gets an angle on them or something while they’re still in the air and gets them to specific places on the ground. A big part of the treasury is from gems found in those.” Lightning found herself smiling “And space salt, there’s a special market for that now or something.”

“I did see that,” said Charm “Space salt, at the gift shop, I didn’t really understand it,” she peered towards the kitchens again, where some squabble was apparently taking place “So he chases asteroids huh? That’s one Hell of a line of work.”

“Don’t get him started on it,” Lightning cautioned “I remember he used to go on for hours about all the nitpicky details and how dangerous it is…” she paused “The castle has a gift shop?” she asked.

“Not, like, in the castle,” said Charm “It’s the first building you pass while leaving though, you should’ve seen it when you were walking here from the train station, it’s a little hard to miss.”

“I took a bit of an alternate route,” said Lightning, feeling somehow sheepish “You don’t occur to me as the type who’d shop for souvenirs though, why were you there?”

Finally it was Charm’s turn to flush, her cheeks looking purple with the contrast “My mom works there,” she said “I live way down on the bottom level in somepony’s spare room. They’re very nice but, you know.” She trailed off “It’s a long walk, but I spend most of my time here at the castle.”

“Oh,” said Lightning, feeling somehow worse “My parents were both on the royal guard, and my big brother was too for a long time. Now he picks apples and the royal family pays me to keep doing my music thing.”

“The arts endowment?” Charm asked “Like, extra welfare for ponies who do artsy stuff that can’t really sell right?”

“I actually get a lot of money for shows too,” said Lightning, worried to sound a braggart “It’s sort of a really rich and exclusive thing to have me play a family piece for somepony. Apparently I’m kind of a big deal or something…”

“Must be really good at what you do,” said Charm, looking down at an empty plate “I didn’t get my cutie mark until all that long ago, like I said, maybe a year? I feel like I’m a little slow…” she paused, collected herself, and continued “If my only talent is conjuring illusions then am I just going to end up as a show-pony somewhere? Humiliated and beat down like Trixie? What kind of a talent even is that for me to wait for…?”

Lightning wasn’t even sure what to say at this point, so she moved a little closer, and very carefully wrapped herself around Charm in a tender embrace, hoping it would be enough. The forced smile from the blue filly showed that it had.

“Sorry,” said Charm “I know we just met and all but, I don’t really confide that in many ponies because… well I don’t really have any friends. Magic is so taken for granted up here, no one wants to talk about it or study it and the ponies that do are just… stupid! Because we have to go and look up what everyone is doing as easy as walking.”

“No way…” said Lightning, casting for the right words “What you’re doing is totally different. I don’t really understand magic, I know, but, like you said, unicorns do it like walking most of the time. But what you’re studying isn’t like walking magic is it? It’s like running magic, and every pony can walk but only a few can run the five K in less than fifteen minutes!” she blushed “Sorry, I kind of did that once, I got fourth place but it was still awesome…”

“No, I get it,” said Charm, sitting up a little straighter and looking Lightning in the eye “That’s how I see it too, but you can’t explain that to every pony in the world. I’m just glad someone at least gets it.”

“Well, sort of,” said Lightning “Still, you know, earth pony! Magic isn’t something I really understand like you.”

“Just shut up while you’re still awesome,” said Charm, blushing as she pulled out of the hug. She gave a quick look back, then to her plate again. Finally she jumped forward, kissed Lightning’s nose, and sat again, blushing wildly and looking away “That never happened, got it?”

Lightning had been stunned by the quick action, agreeing with a short nod before turning again. They wore similar silly smiles, looking away from each other in a private sense of mutual glee. Minutes passed, the commotion in the kitchen continued, and the two fillies searched in vain for the words to break the silence.

“Excuse me,” those very words were spoken from another source “Is this seat taken?”

Lightning and Charm turned together to see a young zebra, her hoof on the place Shadow had been, apparently staring vaguely into space. She wore an expression of contained triumph, but none of it had carried to the soft tone of her voice. From this position she appeared to be trying to strike a heroic pose.

Charm giggled “I think there’s enough room by Shadow’s big butt for you to sit next to him,” she said “Of course you can sit. The good stuff is mostly gone though, you should’ve gotten here earlier…”

“You try finding your way through a place this big and empty…” the filly spoke in a tone too low to really hear as she took her seat, but seemed shameful anyway as she looked up “Sorry, I didn’t mean it, but yes, thank you.”

Charm raised an eyebrow curiously as the zebra felt around the table, touching lightly upon a few dishes before ladling salad onto an abandoned plate. It was outside of what charm had learned as civil behavior and it confused her greatly, but Lightning found it oddly familiar. She cast around for a reason that might be before alighting on a vague possibility.

“You remind me of someone I know,” she said “Does the name Iris Stripes mean anything to you?”

Iris nearly choked on her food, her ears turning in Lightning’s direction while her eyes expressed sheer shock “How do you know me?” she stammered “If you want the potions I already passed them on to Celestia, you can’t have them.”

“Iris, calm down,” said Lightning “Do you really not remember-“ she caught herself “Oh right, you can’t see… it’s Lightning Strike! We met a long time ago when a friend of mine pulled you out of the snow.”

“So… you two know each other,” said Charm “Again…”

“Not really…” said Iris “It’s been a very long time, more than four years I think? You’re that really tough girl who was with-“ she gasped, sounding more like a squeak “Oh my, is that the same Shadow? Is he here?”

“It is a common name.” said Charm

“Well ‘Shadow, Duke of Canterlot’ isn’t,” said Lightning “I guess you want to catch up too huh?”

“Oh, well I’m sure he’s very busy,” said Iris, starting to move out of her seat “I wouldn’t want to intrude, he probably has some very important things to attend to after dinner. I could be a distraction and make him accidentally spill something or…”

Iris squealed as she backed away from the bench right into somepony else. She turned on a dime, intending to apologize, then froze. There was a ruffle of wings, the smell of sky and fire together, the breathing sound of lungs acclimated to absurdly low pressures. He was taller, more muscled, the contact with his chest had been enough to communicate that, and she could sense his presence towering over her as her mind shaped a Pegasus in the blackness, molding the color gray.

“Iris?” said Shadow, his expression Inquisitive.

“Yes…?” Iris stammered, backing up to the benches again, blushing furiously “Sorry, I thought you were away with the loud person from earlier, I don’t want to get in the way, I’ll just-“

She squealed again as Shadow cut her off, enveloping her in a forceful embrace and holding her there “Oh my god,” he said, half to himself, feeling her mane and fur to confirm the reality “It’s you… Iris.” He pulled away holding her at leg’s length “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Charm whistled, and Lightning smirked. The two exchanged knowing looks as Shadow glared back at them Iris hesitantly pushed her way back into the hug, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and inhaling sharply.

“You’re more burned than before…” she said, concern peeking through her tone “You’ve been doing dangerous things this whole time haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I probably look like I spent time in a toaster oven,” said Shadow “Oh wait, you wouldn’t-“

“Stop talking,” said Iris, quiet but demanding, still absorbed in him “I just need another few minutes okay?” she nuzzled closer, almost desperate to just hold him in place.

“Does this happen often?” Charm hissed to Lightning.

“More than I think it should,” said Lightning, shrugging and putting her attention more towards a cup of cider “Had some cute DJ wrapped around his hoof when I knew him, really odd thing after the end of it all…”

Something seemed to click in Charm’s mind just then “You mean the one who overcame the effects of an age spell with the use of a manna battery?” she inquired “Not just any old thing either, not that they’re common, but the lunar pendant? The necklace with all the magical energy of Nightmare moon?”

“Sure…” said Lightning “I mean, no idea, but that’s pretty much what it did? It made her eyes turn blue too so that was a little odd, and it…” she trailed off, trying to visualize something “It did something else, but… I don’t really remember it.”

“Well, I guess it can’t be anything serious,” said Charm “But Luna, I would kill to get my hooves on that.”

“It was important though,” said Lightning, closing her eyes and trying to think “It was part of the reason why I haven’t seen Shadow in so long. Why can’t I remember?”

Charm gave her a curious glance “Are… you alright?”

“No,” said Lightning, slumping on the table with a sigh “Everything sucks and I don’t know why. If I think about it too much I just go nuts…”

“Well, if it helps,” said Charm “I get the feeling you’re not the only one out of the loop. Well, I know I’m out already but…” she trailed away “Never mind, you’ve got your own thing going.”

“Light!” Shadow’s voice slipped between comments “You guys want to head back to my room? I got the new smash bros game and I want to see if you’re as good at it as you are at fighting is magic!”

“Hey, I want in on this!” said Charm “I haven’t gotten to use my gamecolt in ages! I got the 2d version of the new model but I’ve got the game!”

Shadow took on an evil smirk at this comment “Oh, you only have it for the new gamecolt?” he asked “I got it early for the IU system, that way some of us,” he turned to Lightning “Will actually get to play.”

“I couldn’t afford it!” said Lightning “Those things are like a hundred bits and that’s for the cheap ones!”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” said Charm, waving a hoof “Because I think we all know who’s going to be the winner.”

“You want to bet, sky for brains?” said Shadow, trying and failing to associate an insult with the color blue “I’ll take you on right here, right now!”

“Please…” said Iris “Can we maybe just go…? I don’t want any real fighting to happen…”

“Oh don’t worry,” said Charm, smirking slightly “Our ‘winged wonder’ here isn’t even worth my time. What do you say to an all-night competition? My mom lets me stay nights at the castle sometimes when I have a lot of studying to do, I’ll just say it’s something like that.”

“And hey, I’m overnight here anyway,” said Lightning “I’ll just have to let Octavia know… at some point maybe.”

“That… sounds sweet!” said Shadow, “What about you, Iris? Everything cool to stay on your end?”

“I… I don’t know…” said Iris quietly “I was supposed to go back on the train before nighttime… do you think she would be mad? If I sent a letter back and everything?”

“We’ve got magic that can probably tell her what’s going on in just a few hours,” said Shadow, clearly not sharing in her doubts “I guess we’re all set for this! Maybe we should invite…” he turned around the hall, just catching sight at the door of a white pelt “Mesa!” he shouted “Where are you going?”

Mesa seemed reluctant to turn back, shaking his head slowly and going back to whatever it was he was doing “I’ll see you at the party or whatever!” he shouted back.

“You make fast friends…” said Lightning “Where do you figure he’s going then?”

“He’s probably hiding from that guy he owes money to,” said Shadow “Either that or selling volcano insurance…”

Chapter 11: Lunar Aspiration

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

Chapter 12: Labyrinth

Of all the ways this could’ve started, this wasn’t quite how he had envisioned it.

Mesa had staked out the night in the castle, not quite gaining the funds to pay off Bandwagon but at this point he was thinking he had gotten away free. What he hadn’t expected was to be roused, still hours before sunrise, by a smirking gray Pegasus telling him to get off the dining hall’s table and get outside.

Labyrinth tag, what a ridiculous game idea. He was trapped in the Canterlot Hedge maze now with the full moon’s glow shadowed by these damnable leaves. Somewhere along these hedges were half a dozen others competing in the game of darkness.

Right now, they were his prey. Early on he had been ambushed by a quick-footed unicorn who had tagged him ‘it’ and vanished into the darkness. ‘It’ was not a good thing to be, for when the sun rose and the game ended the one stuck in that position would be the last in line for Shadow’s birthday lunch, an event he was not interested in missing, except those pies he had been carried up the mountain with… he was sick of those…

Of course, on the subject of the sun, he missed it, as he felt like someone could walk right past him in these shadows and he wouldn’t even notice them. It was aggravating and he was getting tired of it. This wouldn’t be much of a game if he was the hunter throughout, and even now, ten minutes in, that’s what it seemed like.

That’s when he saw the bottle. It was a lucky glimpse, just a quick moonlight glint down the way towards a dead end. He paused, remembering something having been mentioned about pickup items, and made a grab for it. The thing was neither hot nor cold, glass, and the liquid inside seemed a tad thicker than water. Well, it was a birthday party right? They wouldn’t put anything harmful in a bottle out here would they?

Throwing caution safely to the wind, he downed the contents, flinching at the odd taste of pepper and carrots, closing his eyes against the tang. When he opened them again he almost did a double take. He could see, not just the dim idea of bushes from before, but full visual context of the whole of the path he was in, a T-intersection with his dead end at the bottom. As he stared, awed by the newfound sight, a blue furred unicorn crossed in front of him, squinting, oblivious to his presence.

Jackpot.

Among Mesas few and far between talents one might recognize speed, though that could be attributed to his mere species as much as anything else. Even so, he didn’t need it, as strength and surprise were working elements to throw him forward, slamming into the unicorn from the side with an exclamation of “Tag!”

He got out of there as quick as he could after that, there were no rules against tag-backs and he wasn’t interested in being easy prey this morning. The potion aided him again here, viewing tricky turns ahead of time and making them with the visual aid his pursuer lacked. When the unicorn dove forward down the entirely wrong direction Mesa felt safe, cautious, but safe. He turned back down his lucky route and continued on in that direction, trying to put distance between himself and the mystery filly as a magically amplified voice rose over the hedges.

“Charm Artifice has been tagged!”

Charm stamped impatiently at the announcement, turning about face in the darkness once, twice, three times, trying to catch the elusive motion that was all she could see of the previous tag-master. She hadn’t wanted to light her horn with luminescence magic to avoid being seen in the dark but now it was coming back to bite her. She had no idea how she had been so easily come upon but for now that was just fine.

After all, in this game the prey became the hunter once they were caught, and there were half a dozen targets to angle for. She paused, just to listen for the sounds of movement for a little while, but any sound of that was drowned out by the rustling of leaves. Damn, she still couldn’t use light to find the others as they would see her long before she saw them.

But maybe her light was the answer. An idle smirk played across her face as her horn lit up, burning her eyes slightly in the contrast to the dark. She focused, remembering the conjuring elements of the spell as the light moved off her horn, forming into a glowing orb in front of her. She squinted at the glow, and then concentrated again, forcing two more identical spheres into existence. The illusionist’s bread and butter, the will-o-wisp.

With another last burst she released the glowing orbs, sending them to ricochet off the hedges and down the rows in a pell-mell pattern. That was one of the fun points of illusions, they defied physics. She knew those orbs would keep bouncing until she cancelled the spell, hopefully sending unwary ponies right into her hooves.

Still, they wouldn’t run here. As the release point she was standing in the spot the orbs would push competitors away from. She got moving, picking a random direction she had sent a wisp and following it until she found a turn. It was a slight worry that she couldn’t still see the glow through the leaves, it meant the hedges were thicker than she thought.

Finally though, her ears picked something up, the sound of hooves on grass. Whoever it was they were running, probably from the wisps as she hadn’t really made much of an appearance yet. Charm altered her course, listening to try and stay on a path parallel to the runner, or mostly, the varied passages made that something of a tricky chore.

To her extreme annoyance she found that the path she was tracking to stay near her prey had led her right into a dead end. The sound of distant hooves carried on as she stamped the ground, turning to look for some alternate path, the hoof steps were getting closer…

That’s when her wisp appeared again, lighting up the outline of a pony running pell-mell right in her direction. She smirked, pressing herself into the corner of the dead end, tucked out of the way as the familiar red coat of Lightning came to a screeching halt at the wall and turned to face the wisp.

A look of confusion passed over Lightning’s face as the orb floated harmlessly over her head and bounced off the hedges, bouncing back the way it had come. “That wasn’t charm?” she said to herself, pacing in place, feeling confused and paranoid.

The touch of a hoof on her shoulder, followed by a maddening giggle shocked Lightning out of her temporary relief “Nope,” said Charm, making a dash past “It wasn’t!”

Lightning’s reaction time was slowed by shock, turning towards the tap, then towards charm running all in series before the announcement came on again.

“Lightning Strike has been tagged!”

She pawed at the ground in anger, starting a determined trot back down the way she came as one of the three errant wisps passed in front of her. She noticed in that second the curiosity of illusion, of how bright the wisp appeared without illuminating anything around it. For a short while she followed the glow, figuring if the others knew Charm wasn’t it they wouldn’t see magic light as any sort of a threat.

When this tactic didn’t work for several minutes Lightning broke course. It could be suspected at this point that the others had found darkened dead ends to bunker down in and would stay there unless flushed out. The full moon would’ve been enough to seek by but her night vision remnants had been taken by staring at the wisp for as long as she had. There was a brief ominous notion that the sun might rise before her eyes adjusted, but she did have a good twenty minutes before that.

Lightning didn’t notice she’d hit another dead end until she walked right into the hedge. Cursing, she got her bearings again, feeling along the hedge to try and reorient herself with the rest of the maze. One wandering hoof stumbled upon a small leather pouch tied to a branch and her heart skipped a beat, it was a pickup item.

Haste took over as she ripped leaves away to get the pouch out of the hedge and examine its contents, finding confusion and disappointment above other things. She knew there were potions of night vision out here, as well as a few obvious magic things, but the small green marbles in the pouch were completely alien. Still, they probably did something, so she tied the strap over her shoulder to keep it secure before taking one out to examine more closely. They didn’t glint in the moonlight, seeming to absorb the weak light in the maze and destroy it. Creepy? Yes, useful? Well that would have to be found out wouldn’t it?

Lightning gave the marble an experimental twirl, then tossed it from hoof to hoof, trying idly to produce some effect. She held it up to one eye, trying and failing to peer through. She shook it, producing no more effect than fumbling the thing and sending it flying down another route.

And in a flash of green she discovered what these things did. It had been sudden, inexplicable, and disorienting, but she somehow moved in physical space exactly to where the marble had landed. She shook off the dizzy sensation, feeling the space in front of her to confirm the lack of the marble. It had apparently vanished after its magic had been used up. A smirk crept slowly onto Lightning’s face, this was just the ace in the hole she had been after.

There was, of course, only one intelligent course of action in Light’s mind, and she wasted no time in acting on that impulse. She procured another marble, and gave it a powerful toss, high over the hedges. Seconds passed as the silence drew out, no others seeming to say anything or be near.

Warping was still a weird thing, so when she materialized at a four way intersection she didn’t at first know what to do about it. It took time for the disorientation to wear of and her senses to come back enough to hear a desperate and quiet breathing sound somewhere to the right. She smirked, turning that direction and walking towards the sound of her prey.

Iris waited at the end of the dead-end path, shocked, fortunately into silence, by the sound of vorpal magic followed by the stumbling hoofsteps as what was obviously an earth pony. Worse, it seemed that even in the dark her location was well known. The slight clatter of bottles from the pouch at her side could only be giving her position away further. She felt cornered, desperate, and ready to make a move.

The last sound Lightning caught of her quarry was that of drinking sounds. After that there was a wild rush of movement from somewhere above and the vague dark pony shape before her had moved to behind. Damn, that girl could leap, but it wouldn’t be enough to seal her escape. This was Iris, she was sure of it, she was the only other earth-pony-shaped person in the maze with her, and Celestia be damned if she was going to get outraced by a blind girl. She steeled herself mentally before grabbing at the marbles again. If she were able to pull of this catch she couldn’t afford to get dazed after a teleport.

Iris was exhilarated, the potion had worked, rabbit’s foot had created her theorized potion of leaping and the results made it feel like she was flying, air rushing through her mane as she scaled each hedge, the paths and boundaries meaning nothing. She even dared release a whoop, suddenly sure of her success for the game, Lightning could never do something like this!

Or maybe she could, and as the vacuum sound occurred below again Iris cried out, landing in a mass of fur and hooves as her leap ended on top of Lightning. She was able to detach herself quickly, ears kept alert to monitor the earth pony now in the same corridor. There was no victory announcement saying she had been tagged meaning her graceless collapse must have passed for a tag-back. The bewildering question now was how her adversary had caught up so quickly.

Lightning, for her part, was having some conflicted feelings about that. The little warp hadn’t fazed her quite as much this time, but being fallen on had hurt, a lot. She and iris were now staring each other down from the opposite ends of the corridor and it felt like her only shot at this. She knew Iris could hear movement, but probably not notice the marbles, which could be her only way to get at her before she jumped again. The trick would be dodging the tag-back without surprise as an available element.

The epiphany came in seconds, shifting from side to side to make sure Iris knew the stalemate. Light carefully procured two marbles, tossing one behind her and pitching the second forward, catching the first with a back hoof as it fell and kicking it up over the hedges behind her. It felt very acrobatic of a thing to do, and if it worked…

The next thing Iris detected was the sudden, painful collision of a tiny, round object with her nose, prompting a squeak and a shuffle backwards, but she didn’t get to jump in time. Lightning materialized inches in front of her, tapping her snout, and before Iris could retaliate she was gone again. The poor little zebra was left dumbfounded by the action, searching for any sound of Lightning fleeing in the darkness, now totally quiet again. That dumb pony had gotten away…

“Iris Stripes has been tagged!”

Shadow heard the announcement seconds after Lightning had appeared in a flash of green light yards away from him, alleviating the fear of sudden attack. She was off down another path before he could even suggest alliance, but he felt it might be better to just get out of there now. After all, with Lightning so close Iris had to be nearby.

The game had been easy for him thus far, the darkness making a fantastic camouflage for his charcoal coat. Mesa had actually run past him twice during the first leg of the match and this made for the third time Lightning had missed him. Charm had caught him once when he had been fleeing a wisp, but she hadn’t been it at the time, so he was well enough off. Now, the game had been radically changed. If Iris were the seeker than his visual hideaway routine would be rendered useless. Now the whole of his focus was devoted to remaining quiet, moving little, and touching nothing.

One mild advantage he had over the others was his sight. It wasn’t so much an actual ability as much as it was how he was going about the challenge, ignoring light sources rather than focusing on them, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. Now, with the game near to its end, he was gazing through the dark rather than at it. He couldn’t see quite as well as Mesa hyped on the night vision potion but it was holding him well.

His present route had carried him into the domed area of the maze housing the pool of desires, an intentional motion as it was the only spot he knew of within the maze where he could actually spread his wings. If the need presented itself he might even be able to fly. And when he realized he wasn’t alone he very nearly did.

“Hey flyboy!” Mesa hissed at him as his white coat leered out of the darkness “Haven’t seen anyone else all game, where’s stripes?”

“No idea,” said Shadow, forcing himself to not freak out in the surprise of the moment “Close though, Light was it before her and she just passed me. We don’t have to hold off much longer though, it’s only a few more minutes until sunrise.”

“I bet you’re here for the same reason I am,” said Mesa, smirking into the darkness “She’s blind, no way she could find anyone in a room this big. You just want to chill out here and take the win?”

“I don’t know,” said Shadow, trying not to let on his misgivings about just how able Iris might actually be “It doesn’t really seem that fair…”

“Yeah, maybe,” said Mesa “but you remember what the loser had to do? They have to be last in line for the lunch buffet!”

“I know!” said Shadow “Keep your voice down…” the punishment, he felt, was mostly geared towards him. That lineup would be serving food from the far-east, a rare delicacy even at the castle. The last thing he wanted was to be the last to have a chance at it.

“Dude, calm down,” said Mesa “The unicorn might be dumb enough to get caught by a blind girl but she’ll never find us here.”

“I might not have if you weren’t being so loud about it!” Iris’ voice came floating from one of the paths, sounding uncharacteristically smug.

“Buck…” Shadow muttered, his ears falling flat against his head “Damnit Mesa, now we’re some sort of cartoon cliché.”

“I’m out!” Mesa exclaimed, screwing silence for raw speed as he took off around the lakeside. Shadow had his own takeoff to do, specifically upwards. He may pity Iris if she lost, but it wasn’t worth losing for her. At least no one could catch him in the air…

The hooves wrapped around his neck a second later proved him very, very wrong. Whatever was in that leaping potion had been potent enough for Iris to jump after him and make the catch at the apex of his flight. As Shadow struggled to remain airborne, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek and made a quick statement “You’re it!” Giggling, she detached herself and dropped, making a quick spring down an alternate pathway before Shadow could even react.

“Shadow Chaser has been tagged!”

Shadow had to rub off his embarrassment quickly, he might have less than a minute before he was declared the loser. Iris may have gotten out of his potential capture radius, but Mesa, stuck running around the full circumference of the lake, was still in range, providing one idle hope of not losing this game.

Mesa himself had caught onto the desperation, the effects of the night vision letting him see the next events in stunning detail, the leap and then later the dive. He had turned to a full gallop as his friend in the challenge became an adversary, locking onto the nearest exit and making a beeline for it. The sensation of moving air came before the Pegasus struck, sending is fur into a windswept frenzy as Shadow approached at diving speed. It happened in less than an instant, the quiet, impervious tap on the head before Shadow angled again, upwards and away from the conquered quarry.

“Black Mesa has been tagged!”

“Get back here!” Mesa exclaimed, leaping after Shadow’s flight path “I swear I will-“ he landed in the water with a mighty splash as Shadow took safely to the air, glad Mesa wasn’t able to leap nearly as high as Iris’ potion allowed.

And in that moment the first beam of dawn light crept over the tops of the hedges, filtering green through the mesh plantae roof. Shadow punched the air, whooping while a very wet Mesa crawled out of the water, looking utterly devastated.

“And the loser of the game is, Black Mesa!”

“Buck you!” Mesa cursed to the wind while Shadow just kept laughing, dancing on air.

Author's Note

Oh yeah, I was supposed to write something this week. Yeah... so I guess that's that. You know i Isn't here right now so I can't help but feel that when I'm in a particularly weak state of mind my characters are sort of a weaker presence there? I know this is already some avante-garde bull**** right here and I'm only making it worse but hey, that's a thing. I'm sorry that there isn't any coherence going on here in the notes, it is very late, I haven't had much sleep over the past few days, but I have actually been good on keeping the writing going. The chapter you just went over has been complete for about three weeks now, I usually get zero to two chapters a week done, right now I'm actually ahead of the game by a good four, but due to the one-chapter-a-week policy which I use so as not to leave you all waiting or stress myself out about deadlines, this is when you're getting it. So sorry. Anyway yes, you got me, total filler chapter right here, but I wasn't interested in having the party pull the old team together without giving some insight onto the party itself. i probably wouldn't have done that, so thank me for being too tired to let him stop stuff like that.

Okay, seriously, author's notes, not an intermission here... yeah, just kind of let me know what you thought, as per the usual, whether you think that it IS actually time for another intermission or if you like/dislike characters or interactions I LOVE to hear from you guys. And never be afraid to ask questions because I love to respond to that too, I mean, not much of a famous person here guys... very approachable, have a lot of time, just do your thing. I'll catch you all later, hopefully next week, probably with i in tow.

Also, new author name, I like it better but I need a new signature... dont think it really changes much but, there it is?

-NU

No that's dumb...

-N

Too pokemon reference...

-NUmb

You see, I can get behind that... yeah, I'll keep that for now, play on words. Now get out of here you crazies, wasted enough time just reading up to this point, come back next week! I'll have lotsa stuff waiting for you.

Chapter 13: Graveyard

Author's Note

So very terribly sorry about the short wait you folks had to endure for this chapter, and the inevitible wait that shall come from my own thanksgiving vacation, meaning yes, no update this week, ORAS calls.

I'm going to leave the humor at that though because this chapter is a more serious theme than most of this story has held so far and I'm not going to make light of the events therein. This is darker than the rest of the story, and it's the point where the action finally picks up so for those hoping for some real story instead of exposition, bear with me just a little longer. With solemn promise I present, chapter 13.

Chapter 13: Graveyard

All in all it had been a good day. There was good food, good fun, exciting performances, and all the classic hallmarks of a usual good time. Throughout, he had been happy, able to forget the inevitability of the grim mission ahead, but now, as the festivities were wearing thin, he was uneasy. He should have been gone last night, leaving with the promptness the mission called for, and for the sake of enjoyment he had stayed. It was filling his mind, even as his small posse returned to the tower, dropping off one by one to sleep after the violent overconsumption of cake and egg rolls.

Shadow didn’t follow suit, even with the sleeplessness of the night previous nerves were keeping him wired. He was waiting for the sounds of deep breathing from four distinct sources around him, wanting to avoid confrontation in his escape. The minutes ticked into hours even as the tiny dialogue on the wall ticked over to midnight and the distant church bells made their toll he only counted three rhythms. He gave a sigh of his own, burying his head in his pillow as he willed the last sound to come into being.

A completely separate sound answered his silent plea, the quiet, mechanical grind of the bookshelf door sliding open. He sat up quickly, afraid to see who might be creeping in on them, only to see the opposite happening as the tip of a tail passed the passage and disappeared into the hallway. He blinked curiously, rubbing the tired out of his eyes and looking again. Who could possibly be leaving?

There was only one solid answer to the empty question, and with pegasus grace he vaulted from the bunk, gliding on silent wings down to view his companions. Iris had taken the bunk directly below his, and Mesa was on the lower opposite, with Charm in the center canopy bed. His stomach sank as he confirmed each presence, the missing one becoming clear.

With a movement somewhat more silent than the previous exit Shadow slipped out the still-open passage and down the tower steps into the darkened hall. The deserter had moved out of sight already, in this blackness it wasn’t hard, but he could still hear hooves, faster than a patrolling guard. He silently cursed the lost ability to fly down the halls as he followed the sound, as quiet as he could while still keeping up.

When the sound led him to the main foyer he paused at the banister, looking down into the wide room to see the pony he’d been after. Lightning was standing there, illuminated by the moonbeams pouring in the wide windows, looking side to side as if for guards. Apparently satisfied, she slunk to the huge door at the front of the hall and slipped quietly out of the castle.

“Where the hay is she going?” Shadow asked of the darkness as he slid down the banister, landing with a muted clatter on the tiles below. He hated the main hall this time of night, when the tapestries took on a ghostly look rather than a beautiful one, and the statues by the stairs seemed to leer rather than merely stand guard. He made a point of not being out here much at night anymore.

It occurred to him, as he moved through the huge main doors into the frigid night air, that the only other time he had been out here at night had been with Lightning, and now here he was following her on some mystery agenda. It felt ironic almost, entirely against his preconceived notion of adventures with his friends, and it felt wrong, almost like he was betraying her trust.

Still, he wasn’t going back now, and since they were out of doors he had no trouble taking flight, silently ascending towards the castle rooftop to watch her from a distance. He had never been at such a spectacular vantage before, and for a second he nearly forgot about Lightning to just stare at the semi-circle of plant life that was the castle gardens. It was almost weird to see the sloping cliffs around the outside without the hedges obscuring the view. Canterlot castle had always seemed very top-of-the-world, and it was a surreal reminder that it was not, in fact, the mountain’s peak, but a gorgeously carved out section.

His attention snapped back to the red filly as his hooves found perchase on the roof’s tiles. She was going around the castle, seeming to be trying to stay in the shadow of the moonlight rather than be visible. Shadow’s mind reeled, looking for some reason for her to be hiding outside the castle, or where she could even be going. Her progress seemed arbitrary, moving once towards the hedge maze, then away from it, to the flower displays, and then off again. Fifteen minutes passed in idle silence as Shadow watched, the cold air the only thing keeping his drooping eyes open.

Finally Lightning moved to a reasonably linear route, though from this distance it was hard to read anything else. Shadow’s ears perked along with his interest as he stood again, stretching as he watched her move, seeming to grow smaller in the distance. His hoof touched upon a heavily damaged toaster oven, left there after some painful incident, and sent it clattering to the ground. He strained his eyes in observation, watching as Light seemed to be going right towards the sheer, distant cliff-face.

Nothing was going to be achieved by him struggling to keep his friend in sight, so Shadow leapt into the air again. His flight was a little erratic, shivering and flying was a poor combination, but he was able to follow Lightning’s course from a reasonable distance.

It turned out she was going right up to the cliff, a substantially long walk from the castle’s door that Shadow couldn’t fathom as a meaningless journey. AS they drew close, however, his eyes alighted on an opening that Lightning seemed to have been focused on throughout. It wasn’t a spectacular-looking cave, just high enough for a tall pony not to stoop, and it was entirely unadorned, but Lightning didn’t even seem to think about it as she walked in, her hoof-falls echoing up the cavern as Shadow watched on.

Well, no need to hesitate, it might be warm in there. He landed on the grass nearby, flinching at the chill of the moonlit dew. The opening of the cave looked twice as foreboding from the ground view, like a roughly chiseled hole in the otherwise smooth-cut stone. It reminded him enormously of his craters but based on the fading sound of hooves it went much further than one of those.

As he crossed the threshold into the cramped cavern his nose played host to the scent of moss and damp. Every step he took down the jagged path, flinching at the occasional sharp outcropping, made a certain sound play at his ears he couldn’t quite identify. It sounded as though liquid were running all around him, like rivers were filling the walls. The walk went on for minutes before, to his surprise, he found his hooves on grass again.

At first he thought he had doubled back by mistake, not expecting a lush, warm, mown expanse in the depths of a cavern, but the place he had emerged clearly wasn’t part of the garden. It was an alcove, naturally formed in the mountainside, with stone above and below. Moonlight poured from a wide opening in the wall, looking like a panoramic window to the plains far below. Water trickled from the walls and ceiling, pooling into a rivulet around the outside to flow down and out the edge of the opening, forming a small cascade. The grass was flat, well kept, apparently fed by water and whatever light came through that window, and tiny purple flowers forced up through the grass here and there. They weren’t, however, the only things emerging from the ground.

Line by line uniform, white headstones weaved through the grass, almost right up to the alcove’s edge. They were plain as a whole, mostly unadorned save for a few towards the back, but their meaning was plain. This was a cemetery.

Shadow’s thoughts left Lightning entirely as a cautious eye roamed over one of the frontal epitaphs, old and even somewhat mossy, but still legible. “Imperial Captain Dawn Guard,” the inscription stated “Old Rule Year 320 to New Celestial Year 14.” It wasn’t much to go on, though he expected the vague mess beneath this was an elaboration lost to time. It was year 985 now, he knew that much, a count based on the founding of Canterlot, meaning this pony had been dead for almost a thousand years. He wasn’t sure what year ended old rule dates though, he only had the most rudimentary knowledge of what they even were.

The other memorials around Dawn Guard’s seemed to be in similar states of decay, so Shadow stepped forward a few rows before bothering with another read. “Snowfleet,” his arbitrarily chosen epitaph stated “101-124” and fortunately it didn’t end there, the further, still clear message below the name and date stated “Initiate scout of Celestial Guard. Turned to stone by cockatrice in routine mission, could not be revived through our means. Given the medallion of heart post-mortem for giving his life for Canterlot.”

Shadow’s wings twitched in interest, that was much more of a story, though perhaps not as interesting as a captain’s might have been. He made a few short strides, skimming the names until he found one with a rank attached, somewhat newer, but still showing age.

“Lieutenant Boulder Chaser,” Shadow read from the tombstone “115-155. Longstanding member of the lunar guard. Initiate 129. Corporal promotion 135. Admiral promotion 138. Lieutenant promotion 150. Captain consideration 153, not selected. Boulder Chaser gave his life in the battle of screaming gorge against the buffalo armies. When cornered he was witnessed bringing down a butte into a rockslide, burying himself with dozens of enemy troops. Body recovered. Given medal of heroes post-mortem for his bravery and sacrifice.” There was the vaguest hint in Shadow’s mind that the Chaser name might connect him to this heroic pony somehow, and, almost to confirm his point, he brushed some of the grass aside to look at the smaller, forgotten-looking letters “Overseen by Astral Light, spouse, Star Light, daughter, Valley Chaser, son.”

This idle wonder gave Shadow a new calling in this yard of monuments, to see if he could be tied to any of the other heroes here. There was no proof he was even related to Boulder Chaser, but he had a hopeful hunch. He kept walking, checking the name on each headstone without reading them until he was halfway down the line. “Dream Chaser,” he read “510-522. Drummer girl for the first battalion squad in the autumnal war. Killed in magical crossfire during the battle of maple hill.” Shadow’s heart skipped a beat, she had been his age when she had died “Given the Valiant Heart’s award post-mortem.” He finished, searching in vain for any sign of a family.

Noticing a sorrowful trend amongst the inscriptions, Shadow moved on, thinking to choose one more at random, something he noticed as he skimmed the headstones was that sometime around the year 500 the number of male names dropped in favor of females, as though some population shift had occurred. He was really trying not to think too hard about anything here, it was all sounding very negative.

To try and change the subject again he snapped to a random stone, hoping to find some hero’s story to lead to wonder over fear. There was no such luck. “Dusk Bane,” the headstone detailed “607-641. Initiated 630. Promoted to Admiral 631, Lieutenant Promotion 632. Captain consideration 635, 636, 639, none accepted. Killed in single combat with a manticore during border patrol. Stripped of titles post-mortem upon discovery of internal corruption resultant in the deaths of several captains.”

Okay, no more of that, he had this place figured out now. It was a cemetery, yes, but more specifically it was a military cemetery, one which was reserved for Canterlot militants who had lain down their lives for the defense (or offense, war dictating) of Equestria. Reading more stories of death and tragedy would only depress him, and besides, he had come here for a reason hadn’t he?

Lightning! Shadow’s attention snapped upwards to look back and forth among the memorials, taking no time to detect the red coat among the green and white. He weaved towards her around the graves, almost to the very edge when he stopped, frozen by the sound of Light’s voice.

“Sabre’s been okay,” she said, staring with intensity at one of the stones “He’s not in the guard anymore, that’s one of the reasons we haven’t visited in so long. It’s just like he always says, I’m looking out for him, he’s looking out for me. He misses you guys, I think more now since well…” there was a break, and the sound of sharp inhalation “He’s not ever going to be here with you guys now, and I suppose in its own way that’s a good thing. I hope you’re proud of me… of my talent. I wish I could have told you about it earlier but, lots of stuff has been happening.”

Shadow’s blood iced as everything fell into an awful sort of order, why she was here, why she had snuck away. He didn’t even know what to do about it, how could he help, if he could, or should even try? He was feeling an overpowering urge to turn and leave the grief behind but… she was his friend right? Maybe just being there would mean something?

Lightning turned fast, prepared to throw a punch when she felt the gentle tap on her shoulder. This was her private time, whoever so much as dreamt of trespass on her talk would regret being born! She slowed at the sight of Shadow, who was trying to look sympathetic. She huffed, turning away to try and cover the emotion she was afraid to display.

“I guess you already knew huh?” she said, forcing composure again “I mean… your dad’s here too right…?”

Shadow shook his head “The doctors they… they burned him. He was out of service by the time he… left. Never had the chance to have his name here I guess, we weren’t in any wars or anything I don’t think.”

Lightning shook her head “The start of the changeling conflict was with Shining Armor, so I guess not…” she said, frost tinting her tone “Bastards…”

Shadow’s eyes went to the graves, already knowing what they would say, “Admiral Thunder Strike,” said one “931-978. Initate 950. Corporal Promotion 955. Corporal Thunder Strike rose above and beyond the call of duty for his position during the first changeling attack on Canterlot, defending the front gates with Silent Light, his partner. While their defense fell after stoic hours their desperate sacrifice allowed for the arrival of reinforcements. Given the Valiant Heart’s award and promoted to admiral post-mortem.” And the other, in parallel upkeep, right beside the first “Admiral Silent Light. 933-978. Initiate 950. Corporal promotion 954. Silent Light rose above and beyond the call of duty for her position during the first changeling attack on Canterlot, defending the gates with Thunder Strike, her partner. Their valiant defense effort gave reinforcements time to arrive, thought he couple was lost in their defense. Given the Valiant Heart’s award and promoted to admiral post-mortem.” And at the bottom of both, still clear “Overseen by Sabre Strike, son. Lightning Strike, daughter.”

“They were very brave,” Shadow offered “My dad fought a bunch of changelings during an infiltration once, that was a long time before their first real attack at the wedding though… what your parents did they’re… they’re heroes…”

Lightning quietly shook her head “I was four years old when they died… I don’t even remember what they looked like. Sabre talks about them a lot though. He misses them more than I do and I hate myself for it…”

“There’s… nothing wrong with that,” Shadow had to hesitate before he could complete the sentence “You don’t want to miss them. I mean, of course, but, you know what I mean, because it hurts. It hurts so much more than you could ever imagine when there’s someone who’s always been there for you… and then they’re gone…” he had to stop himself here, this wasn’t his moment.

“How did it happen?” Lightning asked “I… You know this now, and we never talk about it. Tell me,” she turned back to the graves again, taking a shuddering breath “How did you get left alone?”

Shadow really didn’t want to go into that, Lightning was right, they never talked about it, and for damn good reason. It was painful just to think about. After this long it wasn’t a subject that came up, but now that he’d intruded on such a vulnerable moment for Lightning the least he could do was make it some sort of fair between them.

“It was the first day of school,” he began “A year before we met, exactly. I mean, you know that after the whole changeling infiltration mom got suspicious and didn’t want me in Canterlot. It wasn’t safe for me to be, like, popular. It was just me and dad back then, he worked nights so he could keep an eye on me… We lived in that tiny house, the one by the forest you and I used to play in? That’s why I never wanted to leave. My whole life was there…”

Lightning nodded “You’re avoiding the question,” she said, not caring if she sounded a little harsh.

“I know,” said Shadow, looking away, sighing, then looking back “Nothing was weird until I got home, and then I didn’t know it. He left a note for me, basic words I could read back then, saying he’d gone to see a doctor. When he didn’t come home when it got dark I kind of panicked.” He paused again, almost choking, it was more vivid than he had been expecting “Fluttershy was our closest neighbor, so I went to see her for help. She took me down to the hospital, and we waited the whole night there, and I must have fallen asleep because…” he caught a shuddering breath, not wanting to get to this point “I don’t think I was supposed to know yet, and maybe it would’ve been easier if they’d told me later but… Fluttershy was talking to the nurse, and I swear I’ll never forget exactly what she said. ‘Umbra Chaser passed away last night.’”

Shadow pawed at the grass, feeling his face streak, unable to hold back tears anymore “It was like it was nothing!” he nearly shouted “Like some kind of a fucking accident! She was sorry, yeah, but how is that enough? He was gone, my dad was gone, and they didn’t even care…” he shook his head “I panicked Light, and I shoved past the doctors because I had to see. I hoped that it wasn’t true but… well it was.” He looked back up to Lightning “I saw him, not moving, like he was sleeping but he wasn’t breathing… and there was just this trickle of blood from his ear. We’ve been through a lot of shit, Light, but… I don’t think we’ve ever lived through something that bad…”

“I have,” said Lightning, almost stern “You know I have…” she fixed him with a blank, firm gaze “At least they told you right away, instead of sending someone to your house to try and skirt around the issue with fancy words so the kid doesn’t understand… at least you never had to ask the question ‘why are they burying my dad?’. It wasn’t just awful it was confusing, and it was terrible and…” she shook her head “I want it to just stop… I want the pain to go away...”

Lightning didn’t expect the hug, but they both knew in that moment it was exactly what they both needed. Shared grief had been what had connected them so long ago, and those bonds were still strong. Now here they were, with everything out there, quiet tears and comfort mixing on either shoulder, in either hoof, sharing the silence of the alcove.

“Maybe you’re right…” said Lightning, coming back slowly “Maybe it’s better… better that I never really knew them…”

Shadow pulled away, wiping an eye and shaking his head “I was only an orphan for like a year and a half,” he said “You don’t deserve to have both your parents here… that’s just not right…”

“Neither is watching your dad bleed out of his head,” said Lightning “Look, let’s not do that whole, just, awful one-upmanship on whose life was worse okay? Everything’s alright now isn’t it?”

Shadow’s eyes turned from pain to quiet fear, memory of a certain mission prompted at the very mention of it. He looked away, suddenly unable to meet Lightning’s gaze. Light could feel her heart sink.

“Everything is okay… isn’t it?” she asked “You’re not going to tell me you’ve got cancer or something now are you?”

“No,” said Shadow, feeling cold “Look, Light, stuff’s been going bad lately. It kind of started right before you got here, and, well, it kind of has to do with…” he sighed “Do you remember the thing with Chrysalis? Where you got hit with the electricity and… all that stuff…”

Lightning flinched slightly, as though some pain had been encountered in the vicinity of her left temple “Um, no…” she said, rubbing her head “It’s kind of a blur… I remember waking up in the hospital with Sabre clinging to me like life itself but… I don’t remember how we got there. I just kind of guessed I got a concussion or something and forgot about it…”

Shadow was trying to repress the image himself “Something like that,” he lied “But… some bad stuff had to happen when you got better, and now I’ve got to do some stuff or worse things are going to happen.”

Defying Shadow’s expectation, she actually perked up at this “You’re running away again aren’t you?” she asked “Please, be running away, I want to go with you!”

“What?” Shadow exclaimed “I never said- okay, I was going to but… look, it’s super dangerous.”

“Good.” Said Lightning.

“And, completely insane.” Said Shadow.

“As if you’d be any other way?” said Lightning.

“You’re going to make me bring you along,” said Shadow “Just drop everything and follow me off into the wild blue again… right?”

“Octavia can take the fall,” said Lightning “So talk, star chaser, where are we heading?”

Shadow broke into a broad smile, it was just like old times again “Some place called the great cape,” he said “We’re going to smash a cup.”

“Wait, that’s it?” said Lightning “Breaking glassware?”

“Breaking glassware on another continent,” Shadow offered.

Lightning shrugged “Good enough for me,” she said “When are we leaving?”

“Well now would be a good time!” Light and Shadow turned on a dime back to the cave entrance as a familiar, singsong voice came from the blue unicorn standing in the entry.

“How-?” Shadow started.

“Your damn bookcase woke the zebra,” said Charm, the smaller form of Iris nudged out from behind her with a squeak “And I wasn’t going to let the blind girl follow you alone. Don’t you think you can leave us out of this, we come, or we blab the whole thing to Celestia!”

“I wouldn’t do that…” said Iris, shrinking away from Charm slightly “But… I do know a lot of zebra on the Great Cape don’t like ponies… I was hoping I could help you/”

Lightning’s grin was spreading as Shadow seemed to search for an escape “Sounds like we’ve got a party!” she said “Like, no offense, but way better than your party too!”

“None… taken?” said Shadow “Look, if you’re going to be stubborn about this, there’s probably not anything I can do about it, but I’d rather not panic more parental figures than we already have to. God, mom’s going to kill me for this anyway…”

“It’ll take a few days for my mom to notice I’m gone, probably,” said Charm “I’m almost never home and, well, neither is she, so I’m good! What about you guys?”

“Well Sabre’s going to cook me alive,” said Lightning “But it’s worth it!”

Iris seemed to be trying to hide her face, not chiming in while Shadow looked between the three. She had some much stronger misgivings about the whole departure, but if the rest of the group was off, and they wanted her along, she’d already offered…

“I guess Light’s right…” said Shadow “We’ve got a party…”

Chapter 14: Dissappearance

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

Chapter 15: Foramen

“You know,” said Shadow “This is probably almost as crazy as anything we’ve ever done right?”

“Yeah,” said Lightning “I think we established that.”

“And I’m probably beating a dead human, but I’m guessing you know that this is probably your very last chance to leave?”

Lightning giggled “I don’t think I would’ve been interested if you weren’t planning something stupid and crazy at the same time,” she said “At this point there’s no turning back.”

“Are you sure?” Iris stammered.

Light, Shadow, Charm, and Iris were on a precarious overhanging tree sprouting out of the mountainside, almost as though they were ornaments festooning a Hearth’s Warming tree. Their progress to this point had been systematic, short flights via the grip of Shadow from the nearest available cliff. Their next leap, however, would be one of peril, one more accurately, blatant insanity. As the wind precariously rocked the little plant the three earthbound of the group found themselves clinging to the branches in desperation.

“Is it coming soon?” Lightning shouted in Charm’s direction “I’m not sure how much longer this derpy little tree is going to hold all of us!”

Taking the hint, Shadow lifted himself into a somewhat stationary position in the air, bobbing with the beat of his wings “The soil’s all loose by the roots,” he said “She’s right, we don’t have a lot of time, when is it going to be here?”

“Soon!” Charm shouted to them “Just, shut up and don’t move alright? We’ve got this!”

Almost as if fated to contradict this statement the tree made a ricketing snap and fell several inches. Iris screamed, Lightning fixed Charm with a wide-eyed stare. Shadow looked to the slender trunk, feeling trepidation rise as he noticed the split in the bark.

“Are you absolutely sure?” he asked Charm “Because if not we need to get back on the mountain, fast.”

“I told you, I’m sure!” said Charm “I saw the whole schedule before we left!” despite her bravado, she seemed to be trying to shift back towards the trunk. “Any second now, I swear!”

Shadow was ready to pull the retreat when exactly what the group had been waiting for crested the mountainside. It was the tapered fin of one of Canterlot’s famous airships, and a truly massive one at that. The balloon itself was a striped purple crossed with intermittent streaks of white with a fin that dominated the rear, apparently to steer. The boat beneath looked like a full cruise liner of solid wood, like a galleon in the sky. The deck was loaded with huge shipping crates, each looking capable of holding a small herd, truly illustrating the exceptional girth of the aircraft.

“Buck me…” said Lightning in silent awe “That is a boat.”

The tree released another high-pitched creak and lowered an inch, sending a cascade of grit to tumble down the mountainside as the roots were pulled into view. Iris whimpered, Shadow panicked.

“Alright, we’re going, Iris first,” he said, gliding down to her branch “Charm, you think you can do something to keep this thing up a little longer?”

“I’m no good with kinetic magic!” Charm shouted, her expression uncertain. Still, she gave it her level best, a yellow nimbus of light enveloping both her horn and the base of the little tree “Work fast, Shadow, this isn’t going to hold much longer!”

Shadow nodded, prodding gently at Iris, who seemed uninterested in releasing the only solid tether she had to reality “Come on!” Shadow exclaimed “We need to go, now!”

As the tree dropped another inch, tilted towards the ground now, Iris finally let herself be gripped and pulled into the air. It was a strain to carry the full weight of a pony, but nothing he hadn’t dealt with and more in meteor hunting. He crossed the dozen or so yards of open sky to the deck of the ship, trying to keep as out of sight as he could before making an unsteady landing between two of the huge crates.

“Thank you…” Iris murmured, pawing at the deck to get her bearings “H-hurry up, there’s still the other two!”

“Stay out of sight,” Shadow hissed in response, turning on a dime “If you hear anyone, just, hide, I’ll be back soon!” His heart sank at the sight of the tree, tilted even further, clear even from this distance.

When he got back to the tree Charm was sweating from exhaustion, eyes screwed up tight in the effort of keeping the last few trees roots anchored in the mountainside. He moved over to Lightning, who was clutching at the base, only to be swatted away.

“Get Charm!” she shouted “She can’t keep that up much longer, she’s gonna pass out!”

“She’s all that’s holding the tree in!” Shadow snapped back “It’s going to fall any second, we’ve got a better chance if-“

“Shut up!” Lightning shouted “We don’t have time to argue about this, get Charm, I’ll be alright!”

Well, no arguing with that. “You’re really, really annoying.” Said Shadow, perching near Charm and grasping her around the middle “You better be right about this, you understand? I’ll go as fast as I can but-“

“It’s a promise!” Lightning shouted, wincing as the whole tree swayed out of the release of Charm’s magic “Hurry up!”

Shadow took off at the quickest pace he could muster, but even at his best the secondary weight was holding him down immensely. Charm seemed to have gone limp in his grasp, he wasn’t even sure she was conscious, but what mattered now was getting her to the ship to join with Iris while holding onto enough time to catch Light. The struggle was very real, and keeping the fast pace left him breathless by the time he got back to Iris’ hiding spot.

“Are you okay?” Iris asked as Charm stumbled from Shadows grip “You’re breathing so heavy, you sound exhausted…”

“Something like that,” Shadow panted “No time, get her back on her hooves, I have to go back.”

“Go, quick,” Charm gasped “Seriously, that thing is about to go…”

Shadow would’ve snapped something along the lines of ‘I know damnit’ but he was already turned around and flapping his wings as fast as he could get them to move. The distant plant shook, twisted in the air, still dangling by those precious few roots as he focused his entire energy on reaching that point before the unthinkable.

And then he didn’t have to think about it, the horrific event was unfolding right before his very eyes. He was still too far off to hope to do anything. The last root came free and that tree on the cliff-face fell into open air, crashing down the jagged rocks over itself on its way down into the seemingly endless void beneath.

“Lightning!” Shadow’s voice cracked into a high pitched wail as he dove, too slow, after the plant. He already knew he’d missed his chance. His wings slowed, his flight evened towards the cliff, and entering a slow quiet glide, he bumped gently against the cliffside. His stomach dropped out, going numb against the side of the rock as he willed himself to not look down. He’d been too slow, too damn slow… and now-

“Hey numbskull!” a voice emanated from somewhere below “I can’t hold on much longer!”

Shadow’s eyes shot open, detaching from the rock wall to see Lightning, clinging just as he had been, to a tiny hold on the cliff’s face. He almost laughed, the sensation of catastrophic failure turning to almost immediate elation as he lowered to grab her by the hooves and haul her up, not without a short grumble of discomfort from the saved.

“Well we can put the near-death experience counter for this trip at a solid one,” said Lightning “Looks like it’s your sort of plan alright…”

“Yeah, except now you actually weigh about as much as a meteor,” said Shadow “Try not to do that to me alright? I think we got enough crazy in our systems back then.”

“If you weren’t all that was keeping me alive right now I’d kill you,” said Lightning, squirming as they approached the ship “But… thanks. That could’ve been a whole lot worse…”

“I suppose you never said that?” asked Shadow.

“Damn straight,” said Lightning.

When they made the final touch-down back behind the tall crates the duo received an enthusiastic reception. Lightning was hardly five seconds out of Shadow’s grip before she was ensnared in Charm’s. The poor unicorn looked as though she were on the verge of a meltdown.

“I thought you were dead…” Charm mumbled into Lightning’s neck “Celestia, filly, don’t you ever do that to me again…”

“No promises…” said Lightning, returning the hug as best she could. She couldn’t help but notice an eyebrow wiggle from Shadow which she promptly ignored “I get the feeling it’s kind of just going to get more dangerous.”

Shadow took on a more serious expression at this comment “Right away too,” he said “I mean, now we’re stowaways, you know they have all sorts of… unboarding things for getting rid of ponies like us.”

“I think they’re just rumors…” Charm’s uncertain tone made her reassurance seem somehow false as she detached herself from the hug, “I mean, they can’t actually… kill ponies right? If you threw someone off a ship like this…?”

“There aren’t a lot of ponies out here,” said Iris, prompting confused expressions from all present “The strongest vibrations are the ones from the engine, and that’s down at the bottom, probably. Any walking would be just a little bit stronger if they were on the same level as us.”

“That… makes sense.” Said Lightning, somewhere between awed and begrudging in her tone “But then what are they all doing? I mean the captain would be steering but there’s a crew too right?”

“Oh I could tell you that,” said Charm “It’s a cargo ship, that’s why we chose it, meaning the crew isn’t really there for much other than loading and unloading these crates here. Keep in mind we are in the air, which means they don’t exactly need an active guard like you’d have on a building. The crew’s probably all downstairs playing cards or something, I bet they don’t even know we’re here.”

“That’s… kind of the point,” said Shadow, ears flattening against his head “Don’t treat it like it’s no big deal though okay? Stealth is kind of a big issue.”

“What we have to do now,” said Lightning, trying to inject authority into the moment “Is figure out whether or not we should go below deck. It would probably be a little easier to hide, but like Charm said, everypony is probably down there.”

Three sets of eyes turned to Shadow, or two towards him and one vaguely in his direction. “Hey, why me?” he asked, feeling a flush creep up his neck.

“You’re kind of the plan guy,” said Charm “I mean, this whole idiot thing was your idea from the get-go, and so was this insane mode of transport. You’ve known what you’re doing so far, so what’s next?”

“I just liked the idea of flying,” he said, trying to look away, then back to his friends, as though trying to find some way around the question “Look, just, what does everyone want to do…?”

Lightning groaned “Come on flyboy,” she said “Let’s go below, it’s windy out here…”

Charm shrugged and followed Lightning across the wide deck towards the hull, inlaid in which was a two-pony wide wooden door. Shadow felt a little sheepish as he followed a good few paces behind, Iris opting to keep pace.

“That was pretty lame,” Shadow broke the ice as they passed the doorway, all but losing the front group but for the sounds of their footsteps as they descended further into the behemoth ship “I shouldn’t be so much of a fluke…”

“Well…” Iris was torn between honesty and sparing her friend’s feelings “It didn’t seem a lot like you I guess?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shadow asked.

“Well…” said Iris “You were really gung-ho… did I say that right? Never mind, but, you used to be really impulsive, and you always thought about things really fast. I remember you didn’t have any problem in getting in other people’s way but you did have good… snap choices? Oh, and some not some good ones, but I think that waiting for the right answer to a question like that isn’t… well… like you?”

Shadow shrugged “I was six,” he said “Crazy stupid decisions go with that doesn’t it?”

“Well…” said Iris “Not if you can’t make decisions at all anymore…”

“You’re overthinking this…” said Shadow, ignoring the fact that he had been the one to present the topic in the first place “How old are you anyway? I don’t think that’s ever actually like, come up. I mean you’re a lot short-“

“Twelve,” said Iris “My birthday is in October, so I’m more than a year older than you are…”

“Oh,” said Shadow, feeling snubbed.

“Where are we going?” asked Iris “I think we might’ve lost the other two, I can barely hear them anymore…”

Almost on cue Shadow caught the sound of a voice, specifically Lightning’s, but it wasn’t coming from down the hall, it was coming from a wooden door on the end of their corridor. Iris had apparently already noticed it, taking a few quick steps closer to stand against the frame.

“Why aren’t we going in…?” Shadow asked.

Iris tried to fix him with an impetuous gaze, missed, and delivered her glare to the wall behind him. “You’d miss an opportunity to find out what those two talk about when they think we leave them alone?” she asked “I mean, they had to have gone in there for some reason, they wouldn’t want to split up on purpose unless it was important, right? I’m going to find out what they don’t want us to hear…” she flushed before her next statement “They might even be… kissing…”

Shadow didn’t even have the capacity to be confused at this statement, he outright didn’t understand it. “I don’t know for sure about Charm,” he said “But, seriously, aren’t they both girls?”

“Yes they are both girls,” Iris snapped “Now will you shut up? I’m trying to listen!”

Shadow quieted, shocked by the uncharacteristic attitude of the little Zebra as she pressed her ear against the door, face screwed up in concentration. Occasionally she would look to the floor, or stifle a giggle, as though whatever dialogue was being discerned was as interesting as an evening soap. The Pegasus, missing the entirety of this, merely stared at her impatiently.

That is, until she tensed against the doorway, “Wait…” she said “There’s another voice in there, no way, that can’t be-“

Chapter 1: Water In The Dark

Autumn leaves swirled in their collective orange dance across Canterlot’s fall-time streets, painting the city in its classic, calming harvest gold. The cobbled roads were very occupied as ponies, mostly of the horned variety, marched from place to place in their estranged business rituals, adding flair of modern excitement to the old brick flavor of the lower levels. Everywhere about the place preparations were being made for the November harvest festival heralding the beginning of winter with the last feast of the golden months. A pungent sweet aroma of apple pie and gingerbread would strike an assault on the nose of any who passed a bakery, and the sound of butter churns sloshing was audible from all corners as the ponies in their charge prepared for a bounty of sweet rolls.

Gracidea was one of the ponies out and about this afternoon, fresh off a short lunch break and back on the streets with her flower cart, laden with bouquets arranged in the seasonal horns. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with barely contained excitement as possible patrons passed, occasionally stopping to purchase one of the flowing cornucopias from the young mare. A brown plaid scarf hid the pale golden fur around her nose and held the flowing auburn mane in place around her neck, lest the wind send it astray into her product. Harvest season was a good time for her, not so much as hearts and hooves or candy day, but her own personal flair could capitalize on any season. A mark in the visage of a blooming sunflower bounced on her flank as she pushed her cart down the street, her horn occasionally sparking with auburn magics, hoping to draw eyes to her wares.

Of the larger, more interesting events taking place in the capital city, Gracidea was oblivious, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. She would play no part in larger events, and that was how she liked it, plain, simple, easy, doing her own personal business on the nippy Canterlot streets. The closest brush the young mare ever came to impact on the machinations of royalty was the observation of a shooting star, just then, in the glaring light of day, a brighter light passing inexplicably in the sky.

Gracidea paused, letting her cart halt for a moment as the end of the luminous trail faded, leaving a puff of dust like a kicked up cloud or the jet stream of a Wonderbolt, but it was higher than pegasi were known to fly frequently, and certainly higher than bits of earth could float to.

“Huh,” she remarked, a few ponies around her also trained on the sight “That’s interesting whatever’s going on up there. I’d like to know why something was so high up.” She smiled, unaware that she had caused a thought provoking question “Would anypony like to buy a bouquet? Special made for the harvest season and a perfect addition to any home!”

The thing, or rather, the pony, who Gracidea had observed as so awfully high up was on a train of thought going in the opposite direction. In his position, he was flying way too low, crimson red eyes were narrowed in concentration as broad, black wings beat hard at the thin air, pushing fire behind him. His mind was bent half on keeping his body in the umbra where the rock shadowed against the spilling flames of its own creation, half bent on getting the damn hunk of rock where it needed to be.

Shadow Chaser was meteor hunting, and the first goal of that, being personal safety, was being left behind somewhat in sacrifice of his shoddy work. He angled himself forward, totally unable to fight the downward force of gravity, but able to redirect it somewhat more forward. The tilt brought the edges of viridian mane into blaze, wilting and incinerating them before he even had a chance to worry about it, but it resulted in leveling out. He was already low enough over Canterlot City that he would seem like a shooting star even in daylight, a sure sign things were not going well, but with a hint of precision he could make certain that it would not be a catastrophe.

Target below, approaching fast, the only indication a dug rut in the grassy plains around the mountain which was the planned crash site. It would be close, but if he could really punch it he might still be able to land in the circumference of the dozen meter space. He ceased flapping, trying to parachute his wings to add just a little bit more forward drag before releasing the weight entirely.

Going through the comet’s tail of flame wasn’t something he could ever avoid at the end of a hunt, but he had learned where the coolest points were and his wings, long tempered against exactly this sort of heat, made up a burn shield that brought safety into his release. The recoil momentum was enough for him to be flung backwards into the air, shutting his eyes against the force of the drag until he started to actually fall, a blessing after so much forced flying and pushing, then caught himself, gliding down towards the impact zone.

The explosion had occurred right on the edge of the circle, blasting away about an eighth of the determining rut. It wasn’t the only fresh crater either, there were five other distinctive holes, two of which were still hissing with copious amounts of steam and smoke. The newest had lit a wide expanse of grass on fire, which Shadow now had to gallop quickly to trample out. This was why the plains were used as the practice ground, there could be no risk to other ponies so it had to be kept far off.

“Are you alright?”

Shadow snapped his head up, blackened hooves still stamping out the last embers. He had almost forgotten about his ‘tutor’, a tall cyan pegasus with a teal blue mane, Cloudkicker. She had been a starting member of the Wonderbolts at one point and was still rotated in on occasion, but her greatest income was from private lessons with young fliers, like Shadow. The only difference was that in this case the student considered the teacher somewhere between accessory and completely useless.

“I missed the pass high beneath Orion,” said Shadow, changing ‘are you alright’ to ‘what did you mess up’ and answering that. “Too sharp of a decline to compensate resulted in an early plunge that had to be made up for in raw speed and ended in a sloppy chase.” He spat on the grass beside him as he finished, his cheeks tasted like sulfur.

“You were right on target,” said Cloudkicker, reaching over to brush some of the singed dead hair out of Shadow’s mane “It’s okay if your form was a little off, it’s the accuracy that counts right?”

Shadow didn’t even bother launching into a speech about the dangers of hyper altitude flying, about how the tiniest mistakes could be life threatening, and the larger ones a menace to other ponies. Even this practice session had to be taken as seriously as the grave lest that be exactly where he ended up. He said none of it, because Meteor Hunting was his sport, and his alone which was why he supposed Cloudkicker was blameless for not understanding.

“I guess,” he said, bringing a hoof down sharply on one more small flame. There would be a few spots of fire remaining but the grass was lively and wet, it wouldn’t spread far.

“You look pretty badly burnt,” said Cloudkicker, wincing somewhat at a particularly bad spot on his ear “I think this practice is over, same time next week?”

“Yes,” said Shadow, giving a curt nod half in agreement, half to dislodge a little more soot “I need to work on my form when that time rolls around, make sure I don’t repeat any silly mistakes.”

Cloudkicker didn’t argue, merely allowing the colt to wallow in his self-loathing, it wasn’t anything new and it wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen in students before. As she escorted him back to the castle, a good half hour commute, she reflected on the headstrong nature of foals. In her mind the discipline and perfectionist attitude of Shadow’s was just his own small form of rebellion against the perceived authority.

Not that she was ever around long enough for her silent opinion to make a difference, especially since Shadow wouldn’t care anyway. The two landed at the path to the castle and Shadow waved her off there, then at last permitted a smile. The sun was still high, illuminating the vivid white, pink, and navy colorations of the castle before him, There was a sound of clamor from somewhere in the great palace, but nearer at hoof was the rush of water somewhere in the depths of the moat, and just perhaps a low roar, hardly audible on the wind.

Two guards stood in position on either side of the heavy spruce slab of wood which was lain across the moat, solid-looking steel chains connecting it to the gate at the others side where incredible magical mechanisms regulated access by raising and lowering the great drawbridge. Shadow flashed a forced smile and gave a curt nod to the two golden armored stallions, Celestial or morning guards-- either terminology was correct and he was proud to recognize it. They waved him across without another look. It wasn’t that he was too beaten to merely fly above the moat, but at that moment he felt too lazy to do so. It was a little nicer this way as well, with the smell of baking bread from the castle kitchens wafting more fragrantly at the slower pace.

Figuring he was well overdue for lunch he trotted through the toothed mouth of the castle gate and into the black and white paneled main hall. There were a few nobles milling about the lobby area, on some annoying high end errand he guessed, they were never in short supply. Fortunately they had at least gained the sense to divert their flank kissing to his mother and aunt not himself.

The dining hall had half emptied when he arrived, the wide wooden table laden with fruits and grains eaten down to the simple tidbits and trifles. The celestial monarch had apparently moved on from her place at the head of the table, yet her lunar sister remained, and her navy eyes were trained on Shadow in a way that to others might signify murder.

To Shadow, it was the look he had grown accustomed to seeing when he came to a meal directly after a practice, and it was reasonably warranted. The hushed gossip and comments of the crowd still settled into the table would be the sort that gave the whole of the royal family a reputation of anti-civility and lack of grace. Again, nothing new, and with an appreciative lack of manners Shadow seated himself at one of the vacant chairs near Luna and reached toward the center for a basket of buttered rolls.

“You couldn’t have at least showered?” Luna huffed, her flowing moonlit mane seeming to curtain her face from the slight embarrassment.

“I was hungry,” said Shadow, dunking an entire roll in his soup, transferring it to his mouth, and swallowing it whole.

“I can tell,” said Luna, sounding cross “If you insist on making a scene I expect you to finish quickly and return to whatever business you had planned for this afternoon.”

Shadow’s eyes glinted with what could easily be mistaken for anger, but in reality concealed a deeper sense of guilt. Luna was, if nothing else, good at a lecture, and her point and the consequence were communicated without threat or even a raised voice. It didn’t construct a child’s usual defenselessness or even baser fear of retribution, but truly made the colt face his current actions under a magnifying glass, and suffer internally of his own immaturity in his own level.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“It’s alright,” said Luna, the long spiral horn atop her head glowing a soothing blue, an aura which enveloped a napkin on the table so she might dab at some loose crumbs accumulated on her cheeks “Is there anything you’ll need before I meet with the diplomats from Saddle Arabia?” the finishing words of the sentence were spoken silently, as though she was loathe to let Shadow in on them “Yet again…?”

“Nope,” said Shadow, managing to stifle a burp as he pushed his plate forward, finding it to be immediately collected by a passing butler “I was just going to check to see if there were any new spoilers out for Ponymon, you know, the Onyx and Amethyst remakes?”

Luna, of course, did not know a trifle of what Shadow was talking about, but kept it quiet, nodding sagely to feign the knowledge “Then I’ll see you sometime this evening,” she said “Stay out of trouble won’t you?”

There had been a time, in Shadow’s earlier years in the castle, during which Luna’s warning might have fallen on deaf ears. The colt’s mischievous streak, however, had diminished greatly, so much so that an observer might consider it matured out of his personality. Instead of a counter-argument or some wisecrack to the princess’ forewarning, Shadow stood, then gave a practiced bow, making sure to keep a steady and formal stance.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said.

“Good,” Luna permitted a sparkle of her own playful attitude by running a hoof through Shadow’s green, and lately very black striped mane “See you tonight.”

“Yep!” Shadow confirmed, rising and pushing his chair in before making a half-dash out of the hall, clearly on some childish agenda, but trying to appear formal in his excitement.

Shadow came back to the lobby, his mind's eye open wide. He only had to physically register the familiar high tapestry and the marble pony statues. He flickered back in memory to the point at which he had first seen this place, three years previous when the statue to the right of the main stairs had been tipped and Twilight, a new princess at the time, had simply rolled her eyes and spoken of how the monument was a magnet for trouble. His stomach knotted at the memory, at who else had been with him then.

There was a brief, futile effort to block the stream of memory as he turned back towards the main gate, but when one sour memory arises, it is habitual to bring others with it. His hooves carried him outside in the direction of the gardens as the flashing backwards could not be stopped.

Ponyville, that was where he had essentially begun, his earliest memory being in that small cabin where his father had raised him. That was a better time, though others might not think it so, the poverty that allowed a sort of freedom and happiness accompanied by frequent exploration into the curiosities in the nearby Everfree Forest, never deep enough to observe the horrors within of course, but plenty to entertain the young colt for days on end.

The cutoff of his early childhood had been short, painful, and clear, when he was a good way through his fifth year of life and starting his first day of kindergarten at Ponyville Elementary. His return home after that first lesson was the beginning of the end, when his father had been conspicuously absent…

Grass. It filled all of Shadow’s senses and dragged him thankfully away from the darkest part of his memory. The soft plant matter beneath him, the wild scent of foliage in the air, and the visage of flowing waving blades of the plant permitting a hypnotic sort of calm all contributed to a quiet tranquility he had grown to love. The pasture ran along the side of the castle from the moat until it reached a cobbled courtyard, the premise to tall, foreboding hedges.

Shadow continued his walk as the comfortable grass changed under hoof to the sensation of gravel, and then to stone as his gaze flickered about the stone statues around the yard. Some time ago, when he was barely old enough to make memories, the lord of chaos had been freed from his prison here. Now it was a quiet place, the unassuming stone carrying a hint of menace since the event as tourists and citizens alike couldn’t help but wonder what the models might be hiding.

His eyes unfocused from the menacing forms and moved back to the hedges, tall and perhaps even dark in stature. Within was one of the most mind bending puzzles known to ponykind, aided with the confusing principles of Discord which had never quite dissipated. It was a place he visited more frequently than his rational mind would enjoy, but it was the part that enjoyed silence that brought him out there. It was a calm place, with most of the hustle of the castle safely out of earshot, a place where he could stop and think.

Thinking here, though, wasn’t the most pleasant experience, because the first time he had come out here he hadn’t been alone. He'd been with Lightning. Like her namesake her memory arrived at times when he least wanted her with destructive force, his mind conjuring the image of a red-coated filly with electric blue in her mane and an unspeakably rare talent emblazoned on her flank.

“Lightning, Lightning Strike,” her words to him, on the first anniversary of his father’s death, and she had come across as annoying and pompous at the time, but she pried and questioned him to fury, and then to sadness when she asked about his parents. To his knowledge then, he was an orphan foal, and he had expected his response to drive her away with a storm of pity, but when he told her of his bereavement her response had been monumental, two words that would alter his world going forward.

“Me either.”

They had been in the same classroom that day, and had together made the daring escape. From there it only escalated, the deeper parts of Everfree were just a start, moving to events as wide ranging as train hijacking to interstellar voyaging. It had felt as though the word ‘impossible’ had lost all meaning.

That train of thought was dangerous, and he attempted to fling it off the rails by entering the passage of the darkened maze. The leafy walls seemed to close behind him and only opened enough ahead to allow his progress. The method wasn’t working very well, for despite the claustrophobic atmosphere the memories were even here. When had he come here with Lightning? Specific details evaded him, but he could remember the party, a late affair celebrating his seventh year, and at the same time his ‘return’ to the castle.

His heritage was not a fond thought either, but it was less painful than the others and he latched onto it. The story he knew, and which he had little choice but to accept, was of his father being a former captain of the guard, handing his title to shining armor after a brief love with the princess of the night. That had lasted about a year before he was born a sticking point as his position would have unknown political ramifications. So his father, Umbra Chaser, had taken him to the small town of Ponyville to keep him secret and keep him safe.

Now Ponyville had opened up as one of the fastest growing trade centers in Equestria, now that the castle of Princess Twilight was there the demand for tourism had been uproarious. It had been somewhat quieted the influx of ponies that usually came to Canterlot this time of year. But it was by no means stifled completely, which was why he still sought so much after the garden silence.

Shadow’s hooves seemed to be guiding him on something of a predetermined path, his subconscious treading the corners while his eyes half observed the high masses of foliage, and the tiny round leaves that still clumped to form this walls. Much of this maze still baffled those who explored it, no matter how often the paths were traversed or how frequently maps were made by flying over, the hedges seemed to shift and change as they grew, making return trips difficult. It wasn’t rare that pegasi were sent to hunt lost ponies and guide them safely out again.

On the other hoof, actually being a pegasus meant a certain level of safety for the journey, as it could be ended at any time by simply taking to the air. Shadow was immeasurably confident in his ability to make a hasty evacuation, which was why he dared the place at all. The only place where flight would be of little afford to him, however, was straight ahead.

It was called The Dome, made of natural grass, and from virtually any viewpoint it was just that, a wide, circular clearing in the hedges with several paths joined to it, a huge, thin dome of plant matter hanging high overall. The clearing itself was serene and quiet, meditative even. At the center was a wide, calm pool, clear and smooth enough to see right down to the flat mud at the bottom. Around the edge were several high stone statues, impeccably carved by skilled masons to form the likeness of powerful historical figures. A replacement to the image of Discord, or rather Discord himself, had been erected more recently, along with one more new figure of Twilight who had apparently had some inauguration to the honor. These were just to name a few, the royal sisters were, of course, demonstrated, along with figures as menacing as Sombra or as pure as Cadence. Some of them were so ancient and decrepit that it could be theorized the figures they depicted were otherwise lost to history.

Shadow came to a stop at a peculiar pedestal among the others, peculiar in the sense that the pedestal was all it was. The statuesque figure atop was either gone or had never existed at all. The latter seemed most likely, for there was another such blank slab on the opposite lakeside. Somehow they seemed different than the others, resonating with a quiet power that caused his initial objective of climbing atop the thing to be diverted.

It was from next to this stand that he finally came to a rest, giving in to the stubborn realization that the post traumatic style memory was not about to be stopped. He groaned, falling into the grass on the lakeside as he remembered his seventh birthday party, his adventures with the archaic artifacts, the chaos of the day that had brought Lightning and himself to this same spot. Oh how painfully long ago it had been when they had unlocked the powers of the lake to no greater effect than to reverse a single spell. This pool had power and he had used it with the help of a friend he would never see again.

The pool had power, this thought was enough to bring the self pity train to a grinding stop as the curiosity express barreled along the same path. He hadn’t heard much talk about this pool since the incident, but a little while after that he had the vaguest memory of someone saying something about it. “The Pool of Desires will be inactive for some years.” They had said, or something like that, was this the Pool of Desires they had been talking about? He remembered how Lightning had activated its power accidentally, begged for one thing and had it granted. Was that what this lake was? a massive, all-powerful wishing well?

It was something to consider, he supposed, something to test? Yes. But how had she done it? He wracked his brains for something, anything, some minute detail that might clarify the inner workings of the water’s magic. She had toppled something, one of the statues, the one of Luna! He swiveled around to see that the stone in question had been replaced, that it was newer looking, somehow different from the others, a quality shared by the depictions of Twilight and Discord also. For this to work the special stone had to come in contact with water, right? That meant these wouldn’t work. For a moment he considered using the empty pedestal as an experiment, but he snapped off the idea at once. Something just didn’t seem right about destroying the thing, the mere thought sending shivers down his spine.

The visage of Celestia however, that too was crafted from the original old stone, and he had no qualms about cracking a statue of old sun butt. He walked back around the pool, putting an experimental hoof on one great leg. The weight was something hardly short of tremendous, but the whole mess seemed to be greatly off balance. With the right force he could overturn it with ease. He took a long, slow breath, braced himself on the ground, prepared to push.

“What I want,” he spoke quietly, the ghostly tone of Lightning’s desperate cry coming to the forefront of his memory. “I just don’t want to be lonely anymore… please…”

Shadow grunted, the initial push inadequate, he slammed his shoulder into the side of the imitation princess, and with a shuddering movement the whole of the thing came down into the water with a geyser style rush, flooding the nearby shore. He gasped, taking wing and holding himself there, knowing what would come next. The flood from the splash did not sink into the grass, instead, it continued to rise, even after the water had calmed. The creak of branches came from all sides as the paths in or out of the dome were closed by new, rapid hedge growth.

While hanging, suspended, over the rising water below, Shadow came to a certain dark realization. The pool of desires was so dangerous because of the water, but why set such a precaution? To make sure the desires were pure, so that only those willing to drown would get what they wished for. Only those willing to die for their cause here would have it achieved.

But he had survived the death trap once, he could do it again. While the last time he had been in the dome he had punched and bit at the thing until it gave way just enough for him to escape that would no longer be necessary. He was stronger now, and at least a little bit smarter. While the water was still low he flew close to it, hooves just rippling along the clear surface before shooting up and away from it at comet speed.

The plants never stood a chance. The moment one forward hoof touched upon the top of the dome at such blinding speed the vines practically wilted away to accommodate his passage. What couldn’t be broken away in the shard of a shattered second through which he flew clung to his wings and stuck them against his sides. The next moment after escape was not flying, but falling, tangled in vines of spider silk. But Shadow was calm the whole way down, not even flinching as he hit the ground, shoulder first, rolling with the momentum. He knew the secret of all great fliers, the ability to fall with grace.

The matter of shaking free of the vines was simple as they mostly crumbled at his touch, a task that was vaguely more complicated as he worked around blooming bruises. He’d landed just shy of the maze exit, but the distance had been considerable. Shadow turned, blatantly ignoring the screeching voice of pain on all sides to gaze back to the maze. The water had risen well above its boundaries in the grassy dome and the pressure sent it up, fountain-like through the hole he had formed in his escape. The display lasted mere minutes, however, before the water stopped and the garden returned to its quiet tranquility.

“Stupid idea anyway…” Shadow grumbled, kicking the dirt slightly as he turned, tail flicking behind him as he headed back towards the castle. Behind him, the falling droplets created a prism of color arching across the sky.

Author's Note

And so it begins, the start of a second story I thought never to be. I felt as though the first one wrapped up pretty well, if a little bit tragic, but all in all I feel like I'm pretty happy about where this is going and if anything I'm going to feel a lot more satisfied at the end of this. Strings that were left untied at the end of our last venture will be together by the end of this, and bits that were only trifles will come to play as important factors, though that isn't to say I'm not still to be swayed by suggestions. Your opinions matter everypony, and I love to hear them, even if its just saying im not doing something particularly well or saying that I have indeed done something well feedback is enormously appreciated, and I hope that I can fill your lull between seasons as well if not better than I ever had.
Coming to you from beyond the void of dark impenetrable nonexistance!

-CC
((Special thanks to Baker for commissioning this sequel to be written, and to Smith for doing the astounding fan-art for the story which now serves as the cover, hope everyone enjoys your contributions as much as I have!))