Twilight Sparkle’s hoofsteps echoed through the palace, filling the empty halls with the sound of her nighttime solitude. Spike had been put to bed after a long day of helping her file her requisitioned books from the Canterlot Archive. After the destruction of her previous home and her subsequent move into the newly-created crystalline castle, she and her baby dragon assistant had been having difficulty adjusting to their new surroundings. However, after some careful thought, Twilight had deemed it appropriate to retrofit a portion of her new home into the Golden Oaks Memorial Library Wing. After all the sorting, alphabetizing, and other tasks had been finished to her strict expectations, the library was complete; ready for her personal, private use for a few days. The prospect of having the whole library to herself for a time had Twilight nearly giddy with excitement, and she found herself breaking into a trot as she headed for the new books that awaited her perusal and study. The transition from "closed residence" to "open library" wasn’t quite complete, but the thought of having a library and the familiar duties associated with keeping it stocked and organized had helped turn the cold castle into something more akin to a home for her and Spike.
This was why Twilight Sparkle was somewhat taken aback when, opening the doors to the currently-private library wing, she discovered another pony sitting at a table behind a stack of astronomy-related tomes; tomes she had only just finished organizing, having decided to work in reverse-alphabetical-categorical order from ‘Z’ to ‘A’, to “spice things up a bit.”
Twilight tapped a hoof against a crystalline node on the wall, calling on the innate magic of the crystal structure to amplify the ambient light. The room, previously lit solely by a warm yellow glow emanating from the pony—Twilight certainly hoped that wasn’t a candle in her new library—brightened considerably, causing the unknown pony to jump slightly and drop the book that had previously hid her countenance.
“Lyra? What are you doing here?” asked Twilight, her eyes widening as she took a step closer to the familiar unicorn.
Lyra Heartstrings smiled brightly, running a hoof through the shock of white mane that had fallen into her eyes. “Princess Twilight! I’m… surprised you’re awake!”
“I’m surprised you’re in my house. At night. Without permission,” said Twilight back, ears flattening slightly.
Lyra seemed to remember her manners, as she slid away from the table and ducked into a low bow. “Sorry, your highness! I just assumed… I mean, I heard about the library wing and I needed to do some research, so I decided you wouldn’t mind if I… dropped in unannounced through the open window with a grappling hook.” Lyra grimaced slightly, peeking up at Twilight with a sheepish smile.
Twilight shook her head, sighing and murmuring under her breath, “The ponies in this town are crazy.” She’d said it the first day she’d arrived in Ponyville, and every time she thought she’d retract her statement, the citizens of Ponyville always had to prove her wrong.
Collecting her thoughts and quashing her exasperation, she took a few steps closer to Lyra. “Well, I suppose there’s no real harm in it, though next time you could always come and ask before… what’s the phrase… breaking and entering?” Despite the choice of words, Twilight allowed a small smirk to break through her otherwise annoyed appearance.
Lyra saw Twilight’s smile and stood up, her grin widening. “Oh, of course. Just… I’ve been away for a few weeks on an archaeological dig project funded by the university in Canterlot. I got so excited by some of the things we discovered, I couldn’t help but drop in and do some late night research.”
Twilight’s annoyance dissipated somewhat at the mention of scientific discovery, her frustration turning quickly to curiosity. “What sort of research?”
Lyra beamed at Twilight. “Let me tell you a story.”
Twilight blinked, staring at Lyra incredulously for a moment before sitting down at the table across from Lyra. “All right, you have my attention.”
Lyra cleared her throat, closed her eyes, and began to recite.
“A thousand-thousand years ago, when the stars were new, the heavens were filled with great celestial beings, who lived in the Endless Black and hunted along the astral winds. The greatest of these were Lion and Eagle. Lion was the packmaster, he with the endless ethereal mane, and it was said that his roar set everything in motion in the beginning of all. Eagle was the huntress, she who strikes from above, and it was said that her talons rent the black asunder and brought the stuff of the stars bleeding into being.
"On this particular day, Lion and Eagle found one-another chasing the same prey, the great Turtle, who swam the leylines between the stars. Lion first made the attempt, pouncing upon the great Turtle after stalking him for a hundred days. His claws rent and his paws battered, but he could not strike a mortal blow through great Turtle’s thick shell. Eagle saw his failure and laughed.
"Eagle fell upon the great Turtle next, and carried him high, before dropping him to fall upon the heat of a great star. The great Turtle hid within his shell, though, and despite the great force of his fall he was not broken. Lion watched her failure and laughed.
"It went like this, for many days, and neither Lion nor Eagle were able to feast upon the great Turtle, who swam on unhurt by their efforts. Lion and Eagle began to grow thin, and they feared that they would be returned to the Endless Black if they did not succeed. Eagle proposed an alliance. She had watched Lion’s many attacks, and was impressed by his strength and ferocity. Lion agreed to their union, as he too had watched Eagle’s attacks, and was impressed by her power and agility. On the hundredth-hundredth day of their hunt, they struck as one against the great Turtle. This time, Eagle lifted the great Turtle high, and when his soft belly was exposed, Lion struck a mortal blow.
"Together, Eagle and Lion feasted for many days, honoring great Turtle’s body and shell. On the tenth day of their feasting, Lion and Eagle agreed to join together as one, as their combined strength would surpass all of the others who lived among the stars. Their coupling created offspring, and they left their children in a clutch upon the highest point of great Turtle’s shell, to grow and fly and hunt upon great Turtle’s shell, which became their home, called Kilpikonna.”
Twilight smiled as Lyra finished her story. “The creation story of the Griffons. I’ve read Soft Feather’s treatise on religious symbology in ancient Avonia.”
Lyra nodded. “My story is not over, though. Let me begin again.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Very well.”
Lyra spoke again. This time, however, she stood and began to pace a slow circle, her hooves stepping in a rhythmic fashion, tapping out a meter to her words.
“Long ago and far away, when the land was new,
The Mother was lonely and sought to view
more than her garden, though she loved dearly
all that was in it. So The Mother, yearly,
walked beyond the place she called home,
seeking another. In this way, she would roam:
Two steps forward and one step back,
black to white and white to black.
So The Mother sought one to call friend,
or love, for without such things to attend
to besides her garden, life would feel dull,
and The Mother wished to feel life in full.
Beneath every rock and atop every tree
so The Mother searched, very carefully:
Two steps forward and one step back,
black to white and white to black.
And in her time and with great care,
The Mother found, far up in the air,
The Father, he who is bright-faced and warm,
shining from a hidden place upon her form.
So Mother coaxed him from his dark place
in this way through her beauty and grace:
Two steps forward and one step back,
black to white and white to black.
The Mother brought The Father and his light
out of the darkness, and chased away the night,
and The Father, enchanted, followed her quickly
to her garden, and The Mother’s garden grew thick
thanks to his warmth. And so The Mother laid
with The Father, together and their love made
A child, born to spread their love and light back
to all, black-on-white and white-on-black.”
Lyra stopped her pacing and recital, turning expectantly to look at Twilight. Twilight smiled. “Zecora has told me the story of how her people came into being. You even told it like she did.”
Lyra beamed at Twilight. “Zecora’s told me the story, too. I actually wrote a dissertation on the rhythmic storytelling as a form of making memorization and recitation easier for the Zebraharan shaman initiates.”
Twilight nodded. “Is there a point, though? To these stories?”
Lyra sat down across from Twilight. “In the beginning, the world was dark, and the void covered all. The Great Father, Consus, flew with his mare, The Great Mother Epona to the darkness of the world from a place beyond the stars. He saw the darkness and void and knew that the world had promise, if only light could be brought to shine upon it and the heavens could be opened to it. Epona saw the world and thought it beautiful, if only the things there could be brought to grow and dance in the light. So Consus and Epona called upon their magic and made the sun, and its warmth banished the darkness of the world.”
Twilight held up a hoof. “I know the legend of Consus and Epona. It’s our own creation myth.”
“What do you think the point is, though? What ties them together?” Lyra asked, earnestly leaning forward across the table as she awaited an answer.
“Well,” Twilight said, considering the question carefully, “I… can’t think of anything. Every culture has their own creation myth, and all of them are equally inconsistent.”
Lyra smiled, as though she’d proven a point, and leaned back. “But, you don’t believe any of them, right?”
Twilight frowned. “Though there’s something to be said for the possibility of ancient Alicorns coming to Equestria and seeding it with life, in all likelihood the legend of Consus and Epona is a fabrication from proto-Equestrian civilizations, who viewed Alicorns as deities.”
“You mean to say that there’s not much truth to be found in those myths?” Lyra asked.
“Well, yes. They’re simply stories,” Twilight said.
“And, as a scientist and scholar, you’re more concerned with truth than fabrications,” Lyra stated evenly.
“Of course. What’s the point of this, though? What do these creation myths have to do with your research, or the archaeological dig?”
Lyra smiled, and spoke quietly. “Finding the truth, Twilight.”
Twilight frowned at the softly-spoken words, leaning forward. “What was that?”
Lyra smirked. “The beginning of something new. A creation myth to end all creation myths. Not a myth at all, really, but a truth to the beginnings of our world.”
Reaching down to the floor, Lyra retrieved a pair of saddlebags from beside the table. Setting them carefully on the tabletop, she rested her hooves atop them, staring down at the dusty canvas material. “We’ve been digging in the badlands, Twilight, searching for ancient ruins that had been uncovered by a recent series of floods that had scoured layers upon layers of the dry earth of the badlands away.”
With slow movements, Lyra opened one of the saddlebags and reached inside. “Beneath the dust, we made several interesting discoveries in the strata between the Marambian and Cloavrian lines; two stages of the geologic strata that are characterized by excesses of ash and organic matter, along with the line that delineates between the pre-arcane strata and the post-arcane strata.”
“I’ve always wondered why the strata below a certain level is magically less-reactive than above it,” Twilight murmured.
Lyra paused for a moment, hooves still in the saddle bag. “What we found… was an obelisk, constructed out of an alloy metal that we’ve never seen before, layered with pure gold.”
“Gold?” asked Twilight.
“Gold is more inert than any other metal, so it lasts longer than any other element.” Lyra withdrew a picture, setting it on the table before Twilight.
The picture showed a deep pit which had been dug in spiraling layers outward from a central point. At the bottom of this sloping pit was a square structure that stood nearly twenty feet tall. In the picture it warmly reflected light from its perfectly yellow surface, shining like a beacon among the dark red earth of the badlands that surrounded it. At the base of the structure stood a team of dirty, smiling ponies, all lined up for the photo.
Twilight’s eyes grew wide, and she smiled. “That’s an incredible treasure you’ve discovered! What civilization built it? It looks vaguely Azzomaretecan, based on the squareness, but that can’t possibly be right.”
Lyra nodded, withdrawing another photo. “You’re right, it’s not Azzomertecan. Look at this.”
Twilight stared at the new picture. It was a close-up of the obelisk, showing one of its perfectly symmetrical sides. On the pictured side, nearer to the base of the object, was a series of pictographs like nothing Twilight had ever seen. “What are these?”
“Pictographs, Twilight,” Lyra answered, frowning slightly at the obvious question.
Twilight rolled her eyes. “I know that, but I’m asking what they’re depicting!”
Lyra smiled. “They depict the obelisk, and show figures… building, and then burying the obelisk. Beneath the obelisk is a hollow square, with a symbol inside.”
Lyra pointed to the last pictograph, which clearly was a depiction of the obelisk, with a hollow square containing a symbol like a sun: A circle with four thick lines radiating off of its upper side, pointing towards the top of the obelisk, and a fifth line that ran paralell to the others which spread off the right side of the circle. The top four lines were close together, nearly touching one-another, and ran from a shorter line on the left to a taller line on the right.
“What is it?”
Lyra tapped the symbol with her hoof. “We have no idea. In fact, the symbol is unique to basically anything else we’ve ever discovered at that deep level. I think it’s some sort of sun-symbol, based on the radiating lines, though it’s hard to be sure. We’ve found abundances of all sorts of unique minerals and materials, along with the semi-precious gemstones that typically cover that layer of strata.”
“So, did you dig beneath the obelisk?” asked Twilight.
Lyra laughed. “Of course we did! And, as the pictographs told us, there was a chamber built into the base of the obelisk.”
Twilight leaned forward. “What was inside?”
Lyra reached into the other saddlebag, retrieved a large metal plate, and set it reverently on the table. The plate was a perfect square, nearly a foot long and a bit over a half a foot wide, and made from a silvery material that Twilight had never seen before. She reached out, touching the corner of its cool surface with the edge of her hoof.
On the face of the plate was a pictograph. In the center was a disk of bronze-like metal, slightly burnished with age, that had lines radiating from it. Around this bronze circle were four more circles, carved at widening distances. On the right-most side of each circle was a gemstone. The inner-most circle and the second circle contained a small yellow citrine. The third circle contained a brilliant blue sapphire, twice the size of the two yellow gems. The fourth circle contained a ruby, larger than the citrines but smaller than the sapphire.
Around the blue sapphire, setting it apart from the the other three gems, was another small circle, which contained a small white gemstone. Between the white gemstone and the blue sapphire was the strange sun-symbol: four lines upward and one line out around a central circle. A line had been drawn between the white gem and the blue circle, connecting them, with the five-point sun-symbol in the middle.
Next to these were inscribed a series of three of alien glyphs or runes which were indecipherable to Twilight.
“What’s it mean?” asked Twilight, turning to Lyra excitedly.
Lyra smirked. “It’s space.”
Twilight blinked. “Space? Oh! Of course.”
Twilight pointed to the central bronze disk. “If we assume that this is the sun, than these gemstones represent orbiting bodies kept in check by the Princesses. The two gems closest are the two bodies closest to the sun: Cronus and Magus. The third represents, obviously, us. Equis, and the white gem around us is the moon. The fourth gem must be Sera, which makes sense considering it appears reddish in my telescope.”
Lyra nodded tapping the sun-symbol. “And there, between Equis and our lonely moon… is something interesting. The same symbol that lead us to find the plate that was left beneath the obelisk.”
“So… that must mean that, somewhere out in space, between us and the moon, is another… thing. Another plate?” Twilight asked.
Lyra shrugged. “I don’t know. All I do know is that there’s something there for us to find, somewhere in the vastness between here and the moon.”
Twilight chuckled. “Well, how could something have gotten up there in the first place?”
Lyra sighed, slumping. “I don’t know, but does that really matter? I mean, there’s something there! There has to be! If this symbol represents something to find, than that means that out there there’s a thing that was left to be found. And I… don’t know where. Space is so unimaginably vast. I mean, if I wanted to leave something up in space to be found, I couldn't even begin to imagine where I’d put it.”
Twilight’s eyes widened, suddenly. She smirked and tapped her hooves together, humming. “Well, let’s think about that for a moment.”
Lyra’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Twilight, who continued to hum and tap her hooves together. “You… you had an idea.”
“Did I?” Twilight asked, feigning surprise, her smirk widening into a full-blown grin. “Well, I suppose I may have… but why would I tell my brilliant idea to a pony that broke into my house in the middle of the night?”
Lyra nearly leapt across the table, clutching Twilight’s hooves in her own. “Princess Twilight! Please! I’m begging you! All my life, I’ve been putting together the pieces of this puzzle. All the strange artifacts? The arcane stratification between the Marambian and Cloavrian lines? It’s all been pointing to some lost, ancient civilization… and the first full proof I find? It’s a message that they left for us, asking us to find something they left behind!”
Twilight leaned away slightly from Lyra, ears going flat. “Woah, hold on there. I was just looking for an apology!”
Lyra blinked, then blushed, letting Twilight’s hooves go. “Oh. Uh… I’m really sorry about sneaking in without asking.”
Twilight giggled. “Alright, that’s good enough for me. Here’s my idea: Lamareian points.”
Lyra blinked. “Uh… you’ll have to excuse me, but I’m not an astronomer. Just an anthropologist.”
Twilight giggled. “Fair enough! Lamareian points are spots in space where the gravitational pull from two stellar bodies essentially cancel each other out. Any object that was placed in a Lamareian point would basically be kept in a perpetual orbit between those two bodies. There are several that can be observed, but there is one particular Lamareian point that I think you’ll want to know about: The Equis-Lunar Lamareian Point.”
Lyra stared at Twilight, her jaw slowly dropping open as her gaze was drawn to the metal plate, and the symbol between the depictions of the moon and Equis. “The Equis-Lunar Lamareian Point… a stable spot in space!” Lyra leapt up, whooping and cavorting around the room. “Of course! That has to be it! Thank you, Princess, thank you!”
Twilight smiled at the prancing unicorn. “Well, I’m happy you’re happy, and it’s rather exciting. Just think: there might be something out there.”
Lyra leapt to face Twilight. “Princess, I need your help!”
Twilight paused, her smile fading slightly. “With?”
“Getting the object down from space!” Lyra exclaimed.
Twilight blinked several times, before shaking her head. “I… don’t know. I mean, wouldn’t you rather get Princess Luna? She’s the alicorn in charge of… space-related stuff.”
Lyra laughed, shaking her head. “She wouldn’t understand, Twilight! You’re the scientist! You’re the scholar! You’re the one that was meant to help me, not Luna! Discovery and learning are sort of your thing.”
Twilight blushed. “Well, I suppose that’s true, though technically my ‘thing’ is friendship.”
Lyra beamed at Twilight, “Well, then, Your Highness, why don’t you help a friend out by pulling an ancient object out of space for her?”
“Woah, since when were we friends? I mean no offense, of course, but… we don’t know each other very well, Lyra,” Twilight said hesitantly.
“Are you kidding? You just helped me progress my life’s work, and in the process earned at least half the credit for the discovery we’re about to make. If that doesn’t make you my friend, I’m not sure what does! Please, Twilight, help me out here!”
Lyra stood before Twilight, her eyes shimmering with zeal and nearly brimming with emotional tears, her every muscle taut with nervous, happy tension. Twilight giggled. “Oh, gosh, are you trying to give me puppy eyes?”
“Yes, yes I am. Is it working?” Lyra asked, chuckling slightly.
Twilight rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Well…”
Lyra leaned forward eagerly.
“... I suppose.”
Lyra leapt into the air. “Yes! Thank you!” Twilight found herself enveloped in a tight hug, and she squirmed slightly. Lyra jumped back, blushing. “Sorry, sorry! I’m just so excited!”
Twilight sighed, shaking her head and smiling. “Come on, up to the balcony. I need to see the stars to get a good feel for what I’m doing. After all, while I had the powers of Celestia and Luna, I had to move around the sun and moon a few dozen times. This has to be much easier, right?”
Together, the unicorn and alicorn trotted up the spiraling staircases of Twilight’s castle, Twilight leading the way to the large balcony that overlooked Ponyville. Twilight’s steps felt light as she walked; something about the chance of discovery and science made her new castle feel… right. This was something she would have done on the balcony of Golden Oaks Library, where she’d kept her telescope. And now? Now she was doing the same thing, here.
It felt good.
Twilight and Lyra arrived at the balcony, stepping into the darkness of the night sky. The moon loomed overhead, large and beautiful. Twilight and Lyra paused, collectively catching their breath as they observed the stunning night that stretched above them. Twilight exhaled slowly, stepping forward. “This is going to take some focus, Lyra, so please be patient.”
Lyra giggled happily. “I think I can manage that for a few minutes, but don’t hold it against me if I get antsy.”
Twilight smiled at the mint-green unicorn, before she closed her eyes, shutting out everything and focusing herself solely on her magic. She felt the heat of her aura form at the tip of her horn, and her wings reflexively spread open as she began channeling her senses beyond herself, searching the night sky.
She recalled her studies, her many lessons in astronomy, and the Lamareian points. She extended her magic aura, feeling beyond the sky, beyond the clouds, beyond the upper atmosphere, extending herself far, far away…
There, in the vast, black void between her own world and its moon, lay… something. Right at the Lamareian point, like she’d thought. The object was… a confusing, tangled mess of angles and lines, indecipherable, reflective, bright. Twilight touched it with her aura, trying to get a better sense of its shape, and how to safely bring it through the atmosphere.
Hello.
Twilight nearly screamed, her eyes flying open and her magic faltering as she attempted to retract her aura, but whatever it was held her in place.
Hello!
Twilight screwed her eyes shut, trying to drown out the sudden… voice, which filled her head and demanded her concentration, her focus, her power.
Hello!
It was nearly deafening. Twilight was sure it would be deafening if it was speaking out loud, but it was inside her head.
It was inside her head.
For one moment, Twilight found herself outside, looking down upon a blue and green ball sitting in a vast expanse of blackness. Then, she was back, on her balcony, and she was sitting down, sprawling onto her side, heaving for air as her body remembered itself and it receded.
Lyra jumped forward, kneeling at the fallen alicorn’s side. “Twilight, are you all right?”
Twilight caught her breath, lifting her head. She felt drained, weakened, but sensed her magic and power returning slowly as she recovered. Whatever had happened, it had done no permanent damage. “I… I think so?”
Lyra sighed. “Oh, I was worried there for a moment! It was almost like something bad had happened!”
“Twilight Sparkle!” shouted a commanding voice.
Twilight and Lyra looked up, gaping into the blackness of the night sky. For one horrible, awful moment, Twilight thought it was that voice, but after a second her exhausted mind caught up to the reality of the situation. “Princess Luna?”
With a thunderclap, Princess Luna landed on the balcony before Twilight and Lyra, staring at them with a furious glower, her body surrounded by her blue aura as her wings closed at her sides. “Twilight Sparkle, what have you done?!”
Twilight had to fight the urge to bow, managing to stand shakily before her co-regent of Equestria. “Luna? What’s the matter?”
Princess Luna looked between Twilight and Lyra for a moment, before turning to address Lyra angrily. “You! Charlatan! What have you convinced Twilight Sparkle of? What madness have you wrought on her innocent being?”
Twilight and Lyra took a few steps back from the force of Luna’s enraged shouts, but she was not done. “We told you, pony! The business of the stars and those within it are none of your concern! We said to you, Lyra Heartstrings, that you should leave well enough alone and be content with your discoveries! But, of course, you meddle in things you know nothing about!”
Twilight held up a hoof, raising her voice over the Princess’s own. “Woah, wait! Princess Luna! What is going on!”
Luna spun to face Twilight. “Twilight Sparkle! You have been… duped by this unicorn!”
Twilight glanced at Lyra, who returned her gaze evenly, raising her head slightly and remaining unbowed, even in the face of Luna’s fury. Twilight turned back to the stern visage of Princess Luna. “What do you mean?”
“This unicorn has convinced you to… examine an object within my night sky, has she not?” Luna asked.
“Well, yes, she did,” Twilight said carefully.
“Then she has betrayed you! This same unicorn, Lyra Heartstrings, has visited me once already at my night court some days before, seeking my council about an object hidden somewhere in the void between this world and my moon. She knows nothing of the perils that sleep between the stars, but I know better, and counseled her to keep to her archaeology, and concern herself not with the things between worlds,” Luna said, bristling at Lyra.
Lyra glared back at Luna. “Whatever is out there isn’t dangerous! It can’t be!”
“How couldst thou possibly know, whelp? Thou, who are only a mere fraction of mine age and knowledge?” Luna said, nearly spitting every word as her anger caused her to slip into her Old Equestrian affectation briefly.
“Because the beings that left the message for us did so as an act of altruism! Nothing self-serving or evil seeks to leave a message for the future that could never possibly serve them, or even their descendants! This was a message left for the ages, beyond their reach, from which they could never benefit! It’s a sacrifice for… discovery! For knowledge!”
“Or, perhaps, a sacrifice for self preservation! Did you not think that sometimes things that slumber are better left sleeping? Do you not avoid waking the drake, to avoid it’s fiery breath?”
Lyra rolled her eyes. “I’ve played plenty of Ponies and Pentangles in my day. But this isn’t anything like that! This isn’t self-preservation. It’s… reaching out. It’s a… a hoof-bump, across the ages and eons that separate our two civilizations.”
“That is preposterous, as there is no proof,” Luna chided, snarling. "I meddled in the darkness between worlds, once, and found it to be full of more than happy messages and friendly voices! I paid for my mistake with a thousand years of my life, and I won't have Twilight Sparkle make similar mistakes."
“It said hello,” Twilight murmured, her eyes widening.
Luna and Lyra looked to Twilight, their argument briefly broken by her statement. Lyra stepped closer to Twilight. “What?”
“It said hello.”
“What did?” asked Lyra.
“... Whatever it was, at the Lamareian point. It… gripped me, and drained my power… but it said hello, and then… it let me go.”
“It drained your power?!” Luna said, aghast, before turning to point an accusing hoof at Lyra. “There is your proof! It attacked Twilight Sparkle!”
Twilight held up a hoof, stopping Luna before she could continue her tyrade. “No! It didn’t attack, though it did scare me a bit. But, I think it needed my magic… my energy, to do something. And it said hello.” Twilight straightened up, stepping to address Luna. “Princess, it said hello. It didn’t need to say hello, but it did. It greeted me, welcomed me, in a way I could understand, and it took what it needed before letting me go. Whatever it was, it was powerful, and it… probably could have drained me dry and killed me. But it didn’t. It just took some power… enough power.”
Luna’s eyes narrowed as Twilight’s own grew wide, staring beyond Luna to the night sky as the Princess of the Night asked, “Enough power to do what?”
There was a light, suddenly, behind Princess Luna, and she spun about to face the night sky. A bright streak split the darkness, filling the black with a flaming mass of red and yellow that suddenly blossomed white-hot, burning through the atmosphere and falling towards Ponyville. Twilight and Luna stepped forward as one, wings snapping open as their auras blossomed with awesome power. The two princesses' horns glowed with arcane energy as they prepared to stop whatever horror descended on Ponyville from the heavens.
Before they could take action, however, the flaming meteor halted with a sudden and unexpected grace, coming to a halt a hundred feet over Ponyville, and slowly floating over the rooftops and chimneys of the town to halt before the crystal castle.
The glowing was almost blinding, and the three ponies on the balcony flinched away, only to have the light dim, becoming bearable within moments.
Twilight turned to face the light, and her jaw dropped open.
Before her floated a huge diamond-shaped structure, inscribed with glyphs and runes and pictographs. The whole of the thing brimmed with arcane energy. It’s construction and shapes were similar to the obelisk and the metal plate that had been buried within. The structure approached the balcony slowly, until it floated within a mere foot of the balcony’s edge. The sheer size of it was incredible, as it stood nearly as tall as her crystal castle, and every inch was covered in the same strange writing that the metal plate bore.
Twilight and Luna glanced at each other, uncertain of how to continue, but Lyra stepped past them, approaching the structure without fear. Twilight stretched out a hoof. “Lyra, wait!”
Lyra ignored Twilight, approaching the nearest face of the object. She stood up on her hind legs, stretching out a hoof towards a familiar symbol: the five-pointed sun-symbol. Lyra hesitated a moment, and looked over her shoulder at Twilight and Luna. “Remember what I said? About this being another civilization reaching out across the ages?”
Twilight nodded mutely. Lyra turned away, facing the symbol. “This isn’t a sun-symbol.”
And she touched her hoof to the hand.
"Hello."
It was the voice, again. Twilight glanced around, uncertain of whether she was the only one hearing it, but by the shocked expression Luna wore, she'd heard it too.
The voice was calm, soothing, the voice of a teacher. Somepony used to giving lectures, by the ease with which he—and the voice was unmistakably male—spoke. "If you're hearing this, this means that you've discovered our reliquary, buried in the earth beneath our golden pillar. Hello, from the past.
"I am a scholar from... a long time ago. Perhaps you, too, are a scholar, or a leader of your people, or simply a person who wished to learn more. Regardless, you've called out to us from across the ages, and I'm here now, speaking to you. This is a recorded message, the first of many that you may access. Though I wish I could interact with you in some small way, due to the limits of our abilities, messages like this simply are one way. It's a bit sad, but having a conversation across time isn't easy, I'm afraid.
"This structure, The Ark, is the last will of mankind. I am a member of a race that long ago slipped the bonds of this universe and returned to the star-stuff from which we all come from. Perhaps, somehow, you are a descendant of our people, but I doubt that. Long ago, my people... made a mistake. We chose to follow a path that lead us to the very brink of destruction. And, though we could not save ourselves, we knew that we could preserve our legacy. We could leave those who came next something wonderful; something worth loving and protecting.
"We grew up not as stewards of our world, but as conquerors. We made choices that irreparably damaged our pale blue dot, our small place in the cosmos which we call home. We paid for that price dearly, and nearly ended the life of every creature on our planet with our folly. Then, in our final hours, we discovered something within ourselves which gave us hope.
"Friendship.
"With the world falling down around us, and our ecosystems rapidly declining, it was the friendship of mankind that brought us together. Our mutually assured destruction sealed our fates, but also bonded us together beyond any race, creed, or nationality. There were no longer barriers between men. Now, there was harmony, and it was beautiful. With friendship and harmony, and our inward-looking final days, we discovered the spark of something that could save our planet. Something that could preserve the place which we called home. Not for us, but for the future... for those that came after. With the unity of the human race, joined for a single cause, we found that we could make a final, selfless act, and give ourselves a legacy worth remembering.
"So, we constructed The Ark, and left it in space for the future inhabitants of this world to find, and... in due time, we will surrender ourselves to the inevitable. But, before we do, we will use this spark, the friendship of all mankind manifested as pure energy, to do something incredible. We will heal the mortal wounds we have dealt our planet. In the process, if all goes according to plan, this final outpouring of energy will likely... consume our selves, and our souls will return to the ether from which we came. We will extinguish ourselves. But, if we succeed, our flame will continue. It will pass on. And perhaps, in some untold eon, others will come who will take a better path. Others, like yourself, who will have chosen the path of harmony over the path of the conqueror. You will live in a world much like our own once was, though it will be clean, and beautiful, and intact. Your water will be pure, your air breathable, and I hope that you live a life of friendship.
"I cannot imagine what you had to go through to access this message, or how you retrieved this structure, but the fact that you did tells me a few things. First, it tells me that you are curious. You explore the world around you. You seek knowledge, and wish to learn. That's something you and I have in common. Maybe that makes us peers. Maybe that makes us friends. But, whatever your harmonious reason for being on our planet, I'm glad you're there... and I wish I was with you."
Twilight stood, staring in awe at the structure. She had sat down at some point, but she couldn't remember doing so. Her hooves were shaking, and she reached up, finding tears on her cheeks. Lyra stood for a moment longer, hoof still touching the structure, before she too sat down. Rubbing at her wet cheeks, she turned to look at Luna and Twilight, smiling. "How's that for a hello?"
Luna nodded mutely, staring up at the structure with an unreadable expression. Twilight sniffled, brushing away her tears, and smiled back. "Pretty fantastic."
Lyra turned back to look at the structure. "I wonder what else they have to teach us?"
Twilight chuckled, hiccuping slightly as she stood up and joined Lyra to look up at the structure—The Ark. "I have a feeling that we already heard the most important message."
