Chapters Above the Ethereal Plane, the skies are locked in eternal twilight; beneath it lies an endless field of blackness and shadow. Here in the Ethereal Plane there are no gods, only beings – or rather a being.
This being was the sovereign of knowledge, a hater of idiots, a crusader against ignorance, and for four Terran years running, the wielder of destiny. He sat upon a gilded throne of ravens within a monolithic black slab of solidified magic, the building floating as if trying to escape into space, only to be held down by the titanic chains which bound its holy power to the Ethereal Plane.
Before his gilded throne stood a massive complex of books that stretched on farther than the eye could see in either the directions of up, forwards, backwards, and down. This was a very specific level of the Ethereal Plane: The Library of Babel. Every book ever written by any species or any language found its way here.
And it was upon this throne that the being sat, reading a very particular book. “Well, these books are sorted out,” he mumbled, levitating a collection of thick tomes to their shelves. “Plus ten points, librarian me.” The librarian, the sovereign of knowledge, was vaguely hominid but built like a spider. His large, white skull-head lacked any ears or a nose, instead a pair of ghastly and hollow eyes stood neighbor to a huge, maniacal grin. To be precise, he didn’t have a mouth either; all he truly had were his eyes, his mouth having been painted on some time ago in an epoch that not even he fully remembered.
He stood up, then began slowly strolling down the corridors of his library, still reading his book, his dark blue cape making no noise as it followed him. Moving to a stand, he began to walk on his satyr-like legs. “Lykófoos Lámpsi,” he mumbled.
The librarian put a his spidery index finger and thumb to the visor of his hat, tipping it slightly as to tighten it. With a flair of his left hand, a small portal opened up on a blank wooden wall, its image swirling until it finally settled on a pony on one level of the Plane of Reality.
“Carry the one. Divide by...” he muttered, taking furtive glances between his portal, his book, and a house-sized crystal ball floating just to his left. “Yes, that would make sense. But what about ‘The Divine Comedy ’?”
Shaking his head, he flipped to the next page of his book. “No, no, that would conflict with Joseph Conrad’s... And then there Qizzugoln’s ‘The Preeminence of the Ghojkin Race ’... Hello, what’s this?” He gestured his left index and middle fingers at the portal. The image swirled about as if it were a camera attached to a fly, revealing five other ponies standing next to the original one, all of which were mares.
The librarian's eyes sparkled like a thousand suns glistening off the surf. “Well, if it isn’t meine Götterdämmerung? Du kleine Puppe.” His eyes darted about her body as if either a starving predator or a mentally-unwell stalker. He chuckled. “Yes, yes of course it would be you. Fate’s book knows only too well.” He glanced down at his book, flipping to another page seemingly at random.
“You would think being the Element of Magic would destroy your anonymity, but not so.” The librarian put a spindly hand to his chin. “And yet nopony seems to remember you; they are only too happy to return to their peaceful and happy lives, forgetting the horrors which you dispel. Such a shame.”
“Look at me, talking to myself,” he chuckled. “Me, the Spirit of Knowledge , talking to myself... again. Good job, Metus. You really know how to be sane. I mean, it’s not you like you actually have a mouth. You’re literally just thinking out loud.” Shaking his head, Metus flipped to another page of his book as he eyed his crystal ball. “You know? I think you’ve just given me an idea.”
Metus turned his attention to the book once more. “Fate, you were so pretty, and it was only right that you had to die at the hands of mortals. Well now, my precious Fate, you know what to do, no?” A pause. “And I do not regret the part of my soul I gave for you or your book, for now I have the holiest of holies: the powers of two divine spirits.” He closed the book, slowly sliding his hand across the book’s cover. “And now, my pretty Puppe pony, you will be the first final piece in my gambit. And like the blind witches of Perseus, I hold your life’s string in my grasp. And my other hand wields a pair of scissors. If only Nevermore were here. Then again, he’s the one who knows where to send you. I’m sure you’ll get to meet him.”
Steeling himself, his heart racing with excitement, he flipped the book open to a seemingly random page. There, floating above the page, was three-dimensional image of Twilight Sparkle. Metus balled his left hand into a fist. Jerking the palm open, another portal next to Twilight’s opened on the blank wall, this new one a dark forest.
The librarian smiled, or at least he would have if he had a mouth. “I do hope that Bruder Keeper doesn’t mind me stepping on his domain.” He chuckled. “But yes, you’ll do nicely. And with my scissors sublime, I cast ye into the grime.” Metus grabbed the three-dimensional image of Twilight, crushing it in his fist. “The way we work – let’s go berserk. Without you, what would be of your country, I asked so bluntly.” He unfurled his fist, pointing it in the direction of the second portal. “Let’s see what it’s all about; we shall find out!”
A pause. “Begebe Dich in meine Hand; folge mir ins Wunderland!”
***
Drip, drop – the cold sting of water on a glacial night. A lone bead of water, born of condensation, lurched down a tree. It dripped of its mother leaf, hitting leaf after leaf until it entered freefall. The droplet impacted the left cheek of a mare lying beneath the tree.
The mare shivered as her eyes opened with an agonizing slowness to face the night above her. She moaned as a sharp icicle of pain raced through her legs for the briefest of instances.
Twilight licked her lips, her throat dry enough to make her cough. Head almost imperceivably trembling, she raised her eyes to the sky above, only to to have it choked out by a sizable oak tree above her, its bark almost indistinguishable from the rows of moss and lichen on its side.
Her left forehoof traced her jaw line until it hit her bangs; they were drenched by the tendrils of morning dew. Twilight’s mouth cracked open by the slightest of margins as she groaned, “Where?”
She coughed hard as she rolled onto her stomach, forcing herself to her four legs. In her haste and by the shadows of the oak leaves, she completely missed the alien figure standing in the tree above her.
High above in the tree was a particularly spider-like spirit, his painted face still locked in a maniacal grin, who watched her stand up. His horse-like tail idly swayed back and forth as he held himself in the tree by his spindly arms and hands.
“Where am I?” Twilight mouthed, her voice box not properly understanding that she wanted to use it. Before her stood endless rows of wild trees, their canopies so thick as to deny the moonlight access to the forest floor. Each tree was wreathed by either vines, lichen, or moss of all shapes and colors.
Twilight swallowed the thought to scream as she watched a firefly buzz by. The bug was soon joined by hundreds of its kind, each blinking with their orange lights as she found herself transfixed by them. The quiet song of cicadas and crickets tore the silence of the night asunder as they sang for their chance to find love.
Her body froze up, threatening to leap into the air as a something groaned to her right. Jerking her head to the side, Twilight saw the body of Spike lying on his front. “Spike‽”
Spike cocked an eye open. “Five more minutes.” He brought a claw to his purple scaly back, scratching at the dirt rather than himself.
“Wake up, Spike!”
“Aww, but these leaves are... Wait, leaves... Leaves‽” As if launched by a spring, Spike leapt to his feet. “What the hay‽ Twilight, where are we‽” His breaths became heavy and fast until they morphed into full blown hyperventilation.
“Calm down, Spike! I don’t know, just calm down.”
High above in the tree, Metus smiled – or at least he would have if he had a mouth. His right leg swayed in the air, just waiting to be spied by either of his two puppets below.
“How can you not-” Spike cut himself off to take a deep breath. And then another. “Twilight, please think. Where are we?”
Twilight licked her lips as she glanced about. “I... I think we’re in the Everfree Forest, Spike.”
“‘Ya think?” he intoned.
“Well, you asked!”
“It’s obvious we’re in the Everfree Forest, just look at those mushrooms!” He gestured to a large mushroom, its cap about as big as he was tall. “That’s native to the Everfree, duh.”
She gritted her teeth. “A; how do you know that? B; why’d you ask if you already knew?”
He shrugged as he put his hand to his forehead. “I can read too, ya know. I’ve looked over your shoulder more than once. And to answer your second question: because I don’t know where in the forest we are.” Twilight groaned, putting a hoof to her face in the universal of frustration: the facehoof. “So, Twi, how’d we get here?”
“I... I don’t know.” A pause. “I-we were in our bed, then...” She shrugged. “I dunno.”
Spike bit his bottom lip. “Any chance you casted a teleport spell in your sleep?”
“No!” she barked. Spike gave her an oblong glance. “Look, alright, that’s more of a... a pubescent kinda... Can we not talk about this now? I’ll explain what causes it when you’re older, hm?”
“Why so defensive?”
She swallowed. “Well, being how proficient I am with magic, I, uh... Let’s just say I went through a turbulent phase of that, kay?” Spike continued to give her a blank stare. “I, uh, I once turned Princess Celestia pink... while I-I was still asleep... I don’t want to talk about my other times.” Spike blinked, then fell onto his back in a fit of laughter. “It’s not funny, Spike!”
It took a solid minute for Spike to cease his guffaw. “So, uh, can you teleport us back, hm?”
Twilight shook her head, frowning. “I can’t. A teleport needs to work by knowing two things: where you are, and where you're going – both in exact relation to us.”
“Great, so what now?”
“I don’t know,” she replied with a shrug.
Spike scratched at his chin as he gazed up at the tree, oblivious to the divine being watching back. “I got an idea...” He flexed his left hand, his claws waving in response. Grunting, he slammed his claws into a tree; he did the same with his other claw, his left foot, then his right. Soon he was climbing up the tree. “If I can get to the top of his tree, maybe we can find a way out!”
“Spike, be careful!” she called up.
“Will be!”
The ground equidistant to the tree’s top, Spike heard a voice: “Well, hello there, dragon.” His body froze, refusing to obey him. “Die Monde ziehen an ihm vorbei. Über Meere Berg und Seen – Wie land soll seine Reise gehen?” Forcing his neck to twist, he angled his face to the spidery being. Spike’s eyes trailed up its long, spindly arms, which both had two elbows to support the gangly appendages; the way its body was colored, painted with uneven and jagged stripes of blue, darker blue, and white, made Spike shiver. And it didn’t help when it physically picked Spike up and tossed him back to the ground, making sure he hit every tree branch along the way to that he wouldn’t die.
“Spike‽” Twilight gasped, but just then a voice bellowed from behind her.
“Strangers in the forest! Assume hostile!” Jerking her head to the sound, Twilight came face-to-face with three changelings, each clad in a thick suit of carapace armor. Their bodies made clicking, screeching noises as they charged at her from the underbrush of a nearby tree.
Behind Twilight, somepony galloped up. “Hold fast, stranger! You shall not stand alone!” he called out in a deep but smooth voice.
Another voice, a mare, chimed in with, “Liberty Eternal!”
“Twilight, what’s going on‽” Spike shouted.
“I don’t know!” she replied, her heart punching her in the ribs.
The forest floor exploding like a bomb, Twilight moved her four legs as best she could. With a hiss, the largest and nearest changeling dove skyward, its wings vibrating the air like a swarm of killer bees.
An insectoid hiss tore through the air as the changeling barreled towards where Twilight and Spike had been only seconds ago. Somewhere up in the tree, Metus observed the exchange, his eyes glistening with something akin to chaotic joy.
Spike and Twilight’s eyes were utterly blindsided by the sight of a light-grey stallion bursting out of the underbrush. With a clunk of his steel armor, Twilight’s skull collided with him, sending Spike catapulting into the air, only to be reeled back in by grabbing fiistfuls of Twilight’s mane.
“‘Ello, mawther,” the stallion greeted. With a somewhat forceful push on his part, Twilight was shoved to the ground. His steel-clad legs bounded over her as his body rammed the attacking changeling.
“Mac’s Raiders!” another changeling barked, its voice as squeaky as a balloon. “Shout the alarums!”
“It’s ‘alarms’, ya madhead!” the stallion barked, bashing a forehoof into the first changeling's eye. “And it’s the 201st Recon to you!”
The second changeling inhaled a titanic breath of air, larger than any breath should logically be. Air filling his lungs beyond the breaking point, he let out a shrill howl, a strident caw, and a sharp hiss all at once.
Twlight, her body pressed into the mulch and leaves, shoved her hooves into her ears, a vain effort to dam the sound from perforating her ears. She felt air shooting out of her lungs, only to realize that it was her own screams – and she hadn’t even known she had been.
And then it hit her: the sudden thundering of wings. It was a sound she had heard only once before. And she knew what it meant – a swarm of changelings.
“Berry, where’d ya go?” the stallion asked. “Aw, bugger me.” Glancing down at the felled Twilight, he forcefully grabbed her, forcing her to her hooves. “Come on, do ya wanna live forever?”
“What’s going on?” Twilight demanded, Spike groaning from his position on her back. As if the forest were alive, every dark nook and cranny in the surrounding bushland light up with innumerable pairs of glowing teal eyes.
He rolled his eyes. “Well ya ain't gotta be a misery-guts, ya minty moos.”
“What does that even mean‽”
The stallion sighed. “Since we’re going to die here, mind tellin’ me yer moniker? Mine’s Lucky.”
“Are you insane‽” she snarled.
“Absobloodylutely, mawther!” A momentary pause. “Anyroad, don’t suppose I could get a kiss for at least trying to save the damsel in distress?” Lucky prodded.
“What‽”
“Well, I tried. Girls! Smoky! Lady, abyssinia!”
At Lucky's command, two mares leapt from the bushes. The foremost one had a coat and mane that resembled a crushed cherry and came with a complementary cutie mark; the latter was a direct mirror of the first, save for her mane and coat palette's being reversed with the former’s.
“Ready, Lucky!” they chirped in unison as they threw cherrybomb-like balls at the ground. All at once two things happened: the ground around Lucky and Twilight exploded into a white smoke, and the changelings charged at the ponies, murder in their eyes.
“Exit, stage left,” Lucky said, dashing into the thick cloud of white.
Twilight couldn’t even see her eyelashes in the smoke, the smell of chalk filled her nose, the roar of changeling wings deafened her, and the peppering of smoke covered her body like a murderous blanket. She opened her mouth to speak, only to have it forced close as he nearly vomited out the taste of the smoke, her attempts to speak being replaced by a raged and poorly suppressed cough.
“Maybe you should come this way, lady!” Lucky called out.
Spike dug his claws into the back of her neck. “Twilight, run!”
“Spike, where‽” Twilight coughed.
“I don’t care!” He grabbed a fistful of her mane, jerking it to the left as though it were a rein. “That way!”
Hooves erupting into a frenzied flurry, Twilight charged like a mare on a mission through the smoke and haze. Time seemed to flow down, everything becoming a blur of indistinguishable colors mixed with the constant rumbling buzz of the changelings. Each hoofstep. Each second. Each moment. Each heartbeat. A part of Twilight thanked Celestia that she had chosen to go to bed without drinking any water beforehoof lest her bladder betray her.
In the blink of an eye, Twilight’s life flashed before her eyes as her right hindleg found itself ensnared by a root. The grab forced her to the ground, stomping the wind out of her lungs and leaving her gasping for air on nigh useless lungs.
“No!” Twilight shrieked in a voice that was half anguish and half a dying howl.
Twilight, no, no, no, no!” Spike pleaded to On High, leaping off his friend, doing his best to claw at the would-be root. The smoke smothered Twilight like quicksand.
“Spike, run!” Twilight begged.
“I’m not leaving you here! I’m not letting them suck your love away!”
“Please, Spike, just go!” she ordered, lifting him into the air with her magic, trying to toss him from her.
“No!” he snarled, clawing at the root for both Twilight's sake and his refusal to be torn away. “Tear! Tear! Tear! Why won’t you tear‽” he cried, tears welling in his serpent-like eyes.
With a roar not unlike a hurricane, the cloud of ashes scattered to the four corners, replaced by the hounding eyes of the swarm. They just hovered there, their task of clearing the cloud completed with due haste. Both Spike and Twilight fell still, their eyes consuming the telltale sight before them. There was no way out. There was only eternal servitude as a slave to the changeling swarm.
Unaffected by the battle, Metus sat in his oak tree, observing the hopeless look on Twilight’s face. “Aww, come on, Twilight Sparkle. Or do I have to bring her in?” Nothing happened. “Fine.” Something large beat its wings. “Ah, I have the perfect sense of timing, don’t I?”
Every last changeling’s wings furled to their sides as they took to the brush, all but a few disappearing as soon as they arrived.
“Well, well, well. Now would you look at what we’ve got here?” asked a decidedly female voice. Twilight and Spike jerked their heads around to face a true monster: the Queen of the changelings herself. Twilight squeaked, cowering against her own body. Spike grimaced at the monster, doing his best to look intimidating, a look which Twilight then tried and failed to parrot.
Her body was tall and sleek like a corrupted version of Aphrodite – taking all of her mythical perfections and twisting and strangling them until all that was left was the vampiric abomination before her. Her wings were like a bee’s, and her eyes hollow and soulness. And yet her body was a magnificent canvas of finest lumber; her “flesh” bearing the texture of tree bark, its grooves like an alpine ski slope. Then were was the jagged, malformed, and vaguely gnarled horn on her head that reeked of the molestation of all that was pure and holy. The decidedly feminine creature smelled like the most erotic of pheromones, like a succubus; it was easy to imagine how such a creature had once seduced her brother, borrowing into his mind like corpse maggots, into allowing her minions to swarm Canterlot.
“And to what do I own the pleasure?” the being questioned, a hint of sadistic amusement in her otherwise neutral tone.
Spike swallowed hard, spreading his arms out like a T before Twilight. “No,” he growled, a tide of emerald flames building up in his throat.
The ‘mare’ smiled. “Oh, and what do we have here? A dragon youngling. How unorthodox. Well, no matter. When you’re not busy raiding my sovereign holdings, you outsiders make for an excellent fuel.”
“W-w-what are you even doing here, changeling?” Twilight demanded, putting on her best brave face.
“I have a name, you know. And while you ponies might relegate me to little more than an emotional vampire and parasite, I would urge you to address me as ‘Queen’. I am Chrysalis, Queen of the Swarm.”
“B-but how are you even... I watched you... You were... How can...?” Twilight stammered.
The Queen rolled her eyes. “If you can’t bother to speak, then perhaps you shan’t require a tongue, hmm?”
“So much as try that and I’ll turned you into a campfire,” Spike hissed.
From his perch, Metus chuckled. Holding a bag of movie popcorn in one hand, Metus grabbed a handful and tossed it into his mouth, only for it to bounce off his face and tumble two stories to the ground. “Oh, yeah, right. I don’t have a mouth,” he mumbled. “Oh, well...”
“That so?” Chrysalis laughed. “Then allow me to enlighten you as to how we changelings deals with illegal intruders and invaders such as yourselves: we offer them a sword to match ours, we offer them the chance to renounce their sins, and if all else fails, we encase them in a chrysalis and feed off their very soul.” Her eyes scanned over Twilight. “Your magic is sword enough, thus you’ve no need of my sword. So I offer you the chance to renounce your sins. A chance to be assimilated into the swarm.”
Twilight’s pupils dilated to the size of saucer pans. “Assimilate...?”
“How dumb can you be? I am harsh but fair. Renounce your sins; renounce your allegiance to either Discord, Nightmare Moon, or Macintosh, whomever you swear fealty to – I can seldom tell the difference between you ponies .”
Twilight blinked. “Say what?”
“If you are that dumb, then I must insist that I make the choice on your behalf. You are to be our subject; we shall remove all want, all desire, and make you part of a greater whole. It is the price of penance. It is the best you’ll get in these dark times. Trust me, I’m honestly doing you a favor.” She took a step towards Twilight. Spike’s maw began to seep flames, not shooting it, just leaking it to show he could. Chrysalis took a sharp inhale through her nose.
“Back. Away. From. Her. You. Harlot,” Spike growled.
The Queen chuckled. “How do I put this as you ponies would?” She tapped a hoof to her chin. “Aw, yes, I should word it like that prayer your ponies do when you beg for the sun. My kingdom come, my will be done. And-” Chrysalis took another deep breath, her face contorted with something akin to abject horror. “By the Ethereal Realms! You’re tainted! You’re infected by the Nightmare Eternal!”
“What?” Twilight and Spike stammered in unison.
Chrysalis reared onto her mind legs as if spooked. “You’re tainted by the night! Flee! She's infected! Infected!”
Within the blink an eye, the changeling swarm turned tail and barreled into the forest. Twilight and Spike’s jaw fell ajar, their eyes oozing incomprehension. “Tainted by the night,” they both mumbled.
***
Twilight splashed cold water on her face, pausing to stare at her reflection: her mane twisted and gnarled, her face hammered by dirt and muck, her eyes bloodshot, her knees shaking like a newborn’s. She dunked her forehooves back into the pond, splashing more of the liquid onto her disheveled self.
In her reflection, she watched as the beads of liquid drained down her face, the blooms of said fluid plopping into the water below. Which droplets were sweat and which were the splashed water she didn’t know.
She felt a claw grab at her left foreleg as Spike said, “Twilight? Shouldn’t the sun have risen by now?” Twilight’s eyes remained fixed on her broken, shattered reflection; a part of her could hardly believe the dirty, disheveled mare that looked back was herself. “Twi’?”
Jerking her head to Spike, she eyed him and all of his scratched scales. “Yeah?”
Spike took a step back, rubbing his right knuckles with his left claw. “Where’s the sun? Shouldn’t it have risen by now?”
Twilight blinked hard. “I... I don’t know. I didn’t think about that. Maybe it’s still too early.”
His lips pursed to the side. “But we went to bed at eight. I remember dreaming, so I must have been asleep long enough for that... uh, REM sleep... or whatever..”
She nodded. “So you do read those books I give you.”
“I, uh, well... Okay, so occasionally I try to figure out your obsession with literature. And so occasionally I find the books you get me extremely interesting – but only on rare occasions! I still prefer less book-y things.” He shook his head. “Don’t distract me. Where’s the sun?”
Twilight bit her lip. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. It’s probably still too early in the-”
“Listen to me, mare. The changeling Queen mentioned Nightmare Moon by name! And she mentioned Discord by name! And then something about Big Macintosh... That’s gotta mean something! Hay, Chrysalis shouldn't even be within, like, a lightyear of Equestria! Don’t you curl up in denial, Twilight. I’ve seen you go down that road before; I don’t like it when you get like that.”
She stared at him for a good long minute. His firm stance and stern glare never once faltering. Twilight sighed. “No, no, no, I’m sure everything's fine. Really! The changeling queen probably just lives in this area and we randomly found her nest or something.” She dismissively waved a hoof. “It’s fine, I’m sure.”
Spike stared at Twilight with an utter deadpan. “It is not fine, Twi’. You’re only fooling yourself if you think otherwise,” he said through gritted teeth. “And I know you’re too smart to lie to yourself.”
Twilight glanced back at her reflection, the moon standing in the background above her reflection. The ripples in the surf waved like the ebb and flow of time. Her own mouth closed, the reflection’s opened. “Where did those other ponies go?” her reflection questioned.
The air rushed up through her nose as Twilight threw herself backwards, landing her rump on the hard dirt. “Twilight‽” Spike yelped. Rubbing a hoof over her face, Twilight dared peer back over the pond. “H-hey, snap out of it...”
She shook her head, her reflection mirroring her. “Uh, I’m fine. I’m fine.”
Spike gave her a hard glare. “Twilight?” he asked, suspicion dominating both his tone and face.
Her mental cogs began to process; the well-oiled clockwork ticked away like a bomb. And then the explosion detonated. “Hey, Spike. Is it just me, or did those other ponies seem... familiar?”
He took a moment, tapping a finger to his chin. “Now that you mention it...”
“And where would we have seen other ponies before?”
“Anywhere, but in our case? Ninety-nine percent chance of Ponyville.”
She smiled. “And what direction did they go off to?” Spike shrugged, but pointed east all the same. “I think so too. And where’s the most likely place they’d be going?”
“Well, Everfree forest at night, just fought off changelings... I dunno. A hospital... Zecora’s hut?”
Twilight blinked. “Huh, I wasn’t going for that, but that’s probably a better idea. Maybe they were going to Zecora’s hut–no, wait, that’d still be murder to find.”
“Maybe Ponyville?” Spike offered.
Slowly, Twilight nodded. “I think so too. Or at least maybe Ponyville’s in that direction.”
Spike licked his lips. “I take it you wanna go east and hope to Celestia that we find a way out or something?”
“Read my mind like a book.”
There it was again, that sound. Discord glanced left towards the sound, towards the Everfree forest. “No,” he muttered under his breath, “it couldn’t be.” Thump-thump-thump-thump came the rapid beat once again. “No...” It echoed again like the chorus of the damned. “But yet...” He stood up, leaving behind his gilded throne. Bathed in the warmth of his artificial sun, a beacon of light and light in an otherwise shadowy wasteland, he took a step towards the Everfree forest. The drumbeat-like sound only got stronger. “Metus... You’re supposed to be dead.”
“-And so then the chocolate rain ran out and I had to find other sources of chocolate, so I was wondering if you gimmie my own chocolate rain cloud?” Pinkie finished, shooting Discord a smile larger than any smile should logically be.
Discord snapped his focus back to Pinkie, his pet Element of Harmony. Her bright pink coat and slightly darker pink mane made her look like cotton candy given life, and it also made her look like a naturally-born denizen of the chaos of which Discord lorded over. With a snap of his fingers, a pink cloud of cotton candy magicked into existence above Pinkie, proceeding to drench her in a chocolate rain. “Knock yourself out, kid.”
All around the two of them stood the Capital of Chaos: Ponyville. Once a pointless backwater settlement of the edge of the Everfree, Discord had since turned it into his capital. The horizon, though, was always slightly blurred by the translucent shield which protected the Ponyville region from harm. He glanced down to the black-and-purple checkerboard pattern that passed itself off as the ground.
Thump-thump-thump-thump. Discord snapped his attention back in he direction of the forest. With a snap of his talons, he found himself at the edge of the forest, right where his shield ended. This far out of the city proper, the grass was green, and lush. “Metus, Metus, Metus, wherefore art thou?”
“Well, well, well, look what we have here,” a voice from behind Discord said, prompting the draconequus to spin around. There, sitting on a fence, was the gangly form of Metus whose painted smile and nigh faceless face stared back at him. Metus shook his head. “And you’re misquoting Shakespeare. Wherefore art thou basically means ‘why are you named as such’. Do your homework before you quote something, dear friend,” he said in a steely tone.
Discord’s eyes narrowed into slits. “You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be able to get past my shields.”
Metus, levitating into the air, chucked. “Did you think you could just kill me, Discord? Did you honestly think that you could savage my soul for all eternity is the abyss of torture and illiteracy? Did you honestly – if even for a second – think you’d never see me again‽”
“That was the idea,” Discord hissed.
“Yes, well, there always was one fundamental problem with you, friend.”
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
Metus adjusted his hat. “You were born without a brain.” He put a hand to his breast. “See now, I was given the brains, you were left without,” said Metus, in the tone of one who knows for a fact that he is smarter than anyone else within earshot.
Discord laughed. “So you got lucky and found me again! What of it? I’m still here, and I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon. It was bad enough the Twilight and her Elements turned me into stone back in the other ‘verse, and that’s not gonna happen again here.” He snapped his fingers, conjugating the likenesses of Twilight and her five best friends, all clad in the likeness of sultry tavern wenches.
“Cute,” Metus deadpanned. “But you underestimate me, Discord. See, I didn’t just find you at random. I hunted you down with the help of Nevermore. And now I’ve got you marked for death.”
“Marked for death? Why, if that isn’t the most cliche thing I’ve ever heard.” He snapped his fingers, changing the likenesses of the Twilight and her friends into surly, world-weary waitresses.
“Do you remember what happened to the Fate?”
Discord pulled out a newspaper, flipping to the obituaries. “Yes. She died. The only spirit to ever die. Why?”
Metus tapped two fingers to his temples. “See now, I like a good sport as much as the next pseudo-corporeal and immortal entity. That’s why I’m here, brother. I’m here to warn you that in a few week’s time, this whole world’s going to the doghouse. To quote a few things that I love to read: Vaulting, veering, vomiting up the values that victimized me, feeling vast, feeling virginal... was this how Fate felt? This verve, this vitality... this vision... La voie... la vérité... la vie. ” Discord blinked. “Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition! The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. ” Metus giggled. “Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honour to meet you and you may call me Dein Sterben zu Kommen. ”
“Vendetta?” Discord chuckled, pulling out a mug of rubbing alcohol. He brought the wooden mug to his lips; rather than the the liquid being consumed, the wood washed into his mouth like a liquid, leaving the alcohol floating in the air. “That's all you’re gonna do? Taunt me by quoting comic books, you nerd?”
Metus tipped his hat. “She cometh, a caustic spideress. With a wise way with well-wishers, will thy now-weary widow weaponize what is not war but affection and almost an amour.” He shoved his face into Discord’s. “Forever free from fate, fiend, forthcoming now my fire of furious frost, ye foul farce for factual flesh – for fate feels only für fleisch von mir, ye forewarned and finely froschéd fury to face being felled! Discord, die down thine dysfunctional din, this detritus doomed darkly to demise ‘cause your lack of discontinuation doth deem itself dangerously dashing, danceable even – a mere myopic-made misconception at most! ” If Metus had possessed lungs, he would have been panting. “You have no idea for how long I’ve obsessed over saying that.” He glanced towards the forest. “Thou hast seeded the wind, brother,” Metus growled, “and now ye reap the whirlwind.“
Discord held up a paw. “Are you still bent outta shape over that? Oh come on, it was ten thousand years ago.”
Metus hissed. “For you, yes. But now see, you tried to put me in there for the whole of ever. And though I screamed ‘till my soul was numb, I found nothing to read, no books to love, and no one to hear me. Do you know what it’s like to be barred from knowledge or literature for ten thousand Terran years‽”
“So what? You got out, much to my chagrin. And besides, we’re immortal. It’s not like that time’s gonna make any difference.”
“I’ve been free for only four years!” A pause. “Sehnsucht ist so gruasam.”
“I repeat: so?”
“Amendment: we’re immortal but vincible. Just ask Fate.”
“What’s with you and Fate? You hated each other.”
Metus took a deep breath, though it was only for show. “Lass mich loss. Those are the words which I screamed for ten thousand years. So lauf, mein kleiner Speilzeugmann, because I have what I need to be more.”
Discord flicked Metus on the face with a claw, hitting right where his nose would have been if he had possessed one. “Oh, come now, Metus. You always were the weakest and nerdiest of our little family of divine spirits.” He laughed. “You don’t even have a face! You had to get one painted on!”
“Mein Reich komme. Mein Wille geschehe.” Discord puckered his lips into a frown, putting a finger to his bottom lip. “I come to you this day to say that I, Metus, have won.”
“You are not God,” Discord snickered. “Odd, I should be the one getting told that line.” He snapped a finger at Metus. “Quit stealing my thunder!”
Metus shook his head, floating backwards as if performing a backstroke. “I’ve finally trapped you in my own little Xanatos Gambit, brother. No matter how this ends, I win.” Discord cocked a brow. “See, I have charged a chivalrous though currently uncheery champion this day. No matter what happens to this champion, I win. Should this hero perish, I gain this hero’s immortal soul for my devices. Should this champion succeeded, then I... Well, let’s just say that it’ll be like what you did to me, only more painful by a factor your pathetic mind couldn’t even begin to comprehend.”
“Gain a soul?” Discord chuckled. “Don’t make me laugh, only Mors can do that.”
“Brüderlein, if there’s one thing I’ve learned how to do well over the years, it’s how to cheat the system.”
“You don’t scare me,” Discord growled. “You can pretend and bluff and lie as much as you want. But it doesn't change the fact that violence just isn’t in your nature. And you’re not nearly strong enough to do what you’re suggesting.” He shot Metus a smug smile. “So, I’m calling your bluff, little brother.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Brüderlein-”
“And stop speaking multiple languages!” the draconequus snapped. “We get it, you can speak multiple languages. Speak normal words that we all understand.”
Metus sighed. “Listen here, brother dear, the Metus you know is dead. He was slowly tortured to death in the hell which you called a prank! For you see, brother, that I sacrificed what was left of the old Metus; he who stands before you is merely an amalgam of rage and hatred coming to aid their comrade Knowledge; for you see, I now am more than any one spirit should be.”
“Always the drama queen, eh, Metus?”
“And at the cost of a blood sacrifice, the blood of a divine spirit, and a ferryman's token of a piece of my immortal soul, I am reborn. Fate may be dead, but I have consumed her whole – her hair, her flesh, her eyes, her very soul itself, ingesting them and taking what is rightfully mine: Knowledge of all things, past, present, and the ability to weave the future. When the time is right, Discord, you shall now what it like to me tormented by even your own divine peers for so long; I come not as death but as Metus, the sovereign of knowledge and the weaver of fate. And now, on this day, I come to you to warn you of me so that I can watch you squirm, that I may learn from that which is unpredictable, and teach myself how to manipulate chaos unrepentant.” Metus vanished into the thin air, leaving Discord to his lonesome.
Discord just stood there for three whole minutes, thinking. “No,” he muttered, “that can’t possibly be... A piece of his soul? He’s bluffing, right? Yeah, of course, he’s got to be-”
“Discord!” singsonged Pinkie Pie, bouncing up to him. “Hey, so I ran outta the cloud ‘cause I kinda ate it and-”
***
Step by step, Twilight and Spike slogged through the sullen Everfree forest, the sun only a gleaming memory resting at the back of their minds. Instead of golden droplets of glorious sunshine reigning over the sky, the bone white of the moon stared back as if it were a terrible eye stabbing through an endlessly frozen sea of stars.
Despite the lactic burning in her legs and haunches and the sting of cold air in her breast, Twilight trudged through. All the while, a little voice in the back of Twilight’s skull kept clawing at her saying, “Maybe everypony we know and love is dead or dying”; “Why did your reflection move? Have we gone crazy, Twilight? A crazy pony can’t study the magic of friendship”; or the elephant vying for purchase at the back of her eyes with “What if Nightmare Moon and Discord are alive and well?”
Twilight pushed the thought to the back of her head, yet ever persistent they clawed and scratched, fighting like cats and dogs until she needed to manually force them back once more. Even though the air was moist and there were plenty of fresh water sources, her throat was dried to the point of choking on her spit. With every blink came the lashing of dry eyelids over her bloodshot eyes.
Another step, another burn of lactic acid. Another breath, another sting in her breast. Another thought, another joust with thoughts she wished not to contemplate. Another blink, another dry scratch of her eyes. Another swallow, another battle to the death against her own spittle. And all the while the voices kept gnawing at her.
Her legs grinding to a halt, she screamed, “Shut up!”
Spike, who had been trailing behind her, jolted to a stop. “Woah, woah, woah! I wasn't saying anything!”
“No, not you!” Twilight almost cried. “I can’t think with all these thoughts.”
He continued to stare at Twilight, though he did nothing for her. Gritting his teeth, he watched as she clasped her forehooves around her head, her body shivering, and her face falling to the ground due to lack of forelimb support. Spike swallowed, continuing to stare at Twilight. His tongue seized up in his mouth, refusing to heed his commands.
“It just doesn't make sense, all right‽ I don’t know!” she continued. “I don’t know why the sun hasn’t risen! I don’t know where we are!” She fell completely to the ground. “I don’t know! I can’t answer anything!”
His heart throbbing in his chest, urging him to do something – anything – Spike stood there, staring at Twilight through wide eyes. He moved his right hand as if to offer it to Twilight, only to pull it back to his side, repeatedly scrunching it into and out of a fist. Spike’s teeth clattered in his skull, demanding that he use them to form words. Yet he knew nothing to say that would do any good.
“Why‽ Why‽ Why‽ Where are we‽ When are we‽ Why won’t the sun rise‽ Why‽ Where‽ Why‽” she cried, tears streaming down her face.
Spike, standing there and feeling like the worst friend ever, extended a trepid hand to Twilight. Then a voice whispered into his ear: “Lauf, mein kleiner Spielzuegdrache.” He jerked his head to the left, to where the voice had whispered. Eyes scanning the forest even as Twilight continued to whimper, Spike saw nothing. “Kleine Drache, zartes Kind.” Spike jerked his head to the right, the skin under his scales tingling with the tendrils of worry.
“Hey, Twilight, do you hear that?” Spike asked.
“Haha,” Twilight muttered, “maybe this is just a dream .Yeah, yeah, hehe, just a dream. But then why do I taste the dirt, feel the touch of cold, and smell the rot of the forest, huh, me? Why?”
Spike ran a hand through his green frills. “Gimme a miracle, I need one,” he mumbled. A whisper-like sound reached Spike’s ears. Taking in a sharp breath through his nose, Spike took an unconscious step back. “Who’s there?” he growled.
“Haha! No, no, that couldn't be, could it?” Twilight chuckled, curling into a fetal position. “Silly. Alternate reality. Haha! Those don’t exist... those don’t exist.”
Spike licked his lips before muttering, “Have I gone crazy?”
Twilight leapt to her hooves, her left eye twitching. “Spike! I’ve g-g-g-g-ot it!”
“A stutter?” Spike dryly replied. He slapped himself in the face for his stupid remark. With a blink he took note of how disheveled Twilight’s mane and tail had become within the last three minutes.
“Remember that book I read about the guy who hopped into other ponies’ dreams?” asked Twilight, in the tone of one who has completely lost it. She whinnied. “That has nothing to do with this!”
Holding out his arms in a defensive gesture, Spike took a step backwards. “Twilight, have you been hearing voices? Or... whispers from the forest?”
“Why, me? Hearing voices?” she chuckled, her right eyelid twitching. “I certainly don't hear my own thoughts clawing at me, haha!” She blinked. “I... don’t know,” Twilight murmured. “It’s just that...” She glanced to a nearby tree stump, her eyes going wide. “Ooh,” she cooed, walking as if in a trance to the stump.
Spike cut a claw to his chin. “Twilight, I think that something huge is going on–and what are you doing to that stump?”
Twilight poked at the stump as if it would bite her. “I know this stump!” she chirped, still in a crazed tone. “Amphetamine, Testosterone,” she singsonged in a mechanical tone, “nothing left but a beautiful body.” Spike blinked. “Come on, Spike, we’ve – no – I’ve been here before!”
“I think you need to lay down, Twilight,” Spike said in a weak voice.
“Long legs, smooth and pretty – you can even stand on them ,” she continued to sing. Spike took a step towards her as she spun around. “A good look, hooray. A small tryst in a separée.”
“SNAP OUT OF IT!” Spike barked.
Twilight blinked. “I think... My stomach doesn’t feel so good.” She turned back to the stump. “There’s a note inside this,” she groaned, levitating a notecard out of the stump.
“Wait, how did you know that was there?”
“I didn’t.” Spike made a somewhat plaintive expression. Twilight cleared her throat, looking at the paper. “It reads: This space for rent.” A pause. Twilight slipped the card back into the stump. “Spike,” she said in a calm voice, “I think we’re not as lost as I thought.”
“Why?” Spike asked in a wary tone, his body tensing up.
“Because,” she replied, her expression blank.
Spike sighed. “Twilight, we need to get out of here. This forest is messing with our heads, making us see and hear things. We. Need. To. Get. Out. Now.”
Twilight licked her lips. “You know what? I agree.” She ran a hoof through her mane. “I just don’t know anything anymore.” She slumped her head forwards, her ears going limp. “I just don’t know.”
Spike put a hand on her shoulder. “Twilight, take it easy. I’ve got your back.” She smiled, wrapping Spike a tight hug. “And no matter what happens, no matter if we go bonkers in this stupid forest, we’ve got each other.”
After taking a deep breath, Twilight sighed. “Yeah, yeah I guess I kinda...”
“Twilight, you don’t have to explain yourself. I know you better than you know yourself.” He smiled. “I’m sure that if we just keep going, we can go to bed and wake up to a normal morning.”
Moving her head down, Twilight nuzzled Spike. “You’re right. I’m sure this is just... something not to think about at all. For the sake of my sanity, let’s just ignore all of this and...” He bit her bottom lip. “Let’s focus on getting home, then we can worry.”
“That’s the spirit, Twi!” He glanced up. “See, at least the moon’s bright this night.”
Twilight, turning her head to the sky, chuckled. “Yeah, yeah I’d say so too.”
A smile ran down Spike’s spine, making his skin crawl. Narrowing his eyes, Spike stared into the darkness. “Anypony else got a bad feeling?”
“What do you mean, Spike?” Twilight asked. A rustle in the bushes prompted both pony and dragon to jerk their heads to the left. “What in the-” A pony burst through the cimmerian bushes, his hooves pounding through dirt, mud, and leaves, paying no heed to either Twilight or Spike.
With his dark-blue mane and state-blue coat, he looked more like some nocturnal denizen than a proper pony. Following him came a hissing mass of black shapes, each one the size of a housecat – and as Twilight and Spike really looked at the chasing mass, it became only too clear that it was a pack of fuzzy spiders, each with sharp fangs and legs capable of stabbing a pony.
A new, much larger beart jumped in front of the stallion: a black hominid with long arms ending in raptor-like claws; sprouting from its back was a pair of bat-like wings; its face was like a reptilian horror, its maw glowing a blue as the glow in its eyes. To the thing’s flank came a dog-sized coal-black moth.
The stallion stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes darting about like the cornered rat he was, he barked, “Solis Vult!” As if on queue, two more of the bipedal monsters leapt out of the brush. “Grata ad Mirabili.” The leathery bat-like monsters charged at him, the stallion responding by charging head-first at them in kind.
Howling like banshees, the hominids jumped at the stallion, claw at his flesh as they forced him to the ground. The stallion clocked the first monster in the jaw, sending it stumbling backwards. With a kick, he was back to his hooves, the monsters holding position around him.
“You wanna play rough?” he challenged. “Let’s dance!”
Once more, the beasts pounced on him, prompting him to hurl his body to the right, escaping the attack. The moth-like thing charged at him. Just as it was about his strike his face, doubtlessly aiming to gouge his eyes out, a bolt of purple struck in square in the chest, knocking it to the ground.
Glancing all around, the stallion locked eyes with Twilight and then at Spike. “Sun preserve me...” He jumped back from a monstrous claw’s slash. “Lady, use light!”
“Light? Twilight asked.
“Twilight, use a flashlight spell!” Spike said.
Twilight nodded. “Right.” From her horn burst forth a radiance comparable to the sun itself. Spike had to close his eyes then cover them with his arms just to avoid hurting his vision. The air filled with shrieks and howls of unrelenting agony. Yet the flare of light didn’t weaken, instead it grew stronger until Twilight was indistinguishable from the sun. Bathed in Twilight’s light, the forest looked more like a photo with a funny film gradient over it than a real forest.
Then the light vanished, followed by Twilight uttering a single grunt. Striking his arms from his face and open his eyes, Spike’s sight swallowed the ghastly image of Twilight splayed on the ground and panting. His skin writhing with panic, he dropped to his knees, putting a hand to Twilight’s forehead. “Twilight, are you okay? Twilight? Answer me!”
Pushing his hand away and raising herself on wobbly legs, Twilight replied, “Yeah...” She gritted her teeth and grunted. “I’m fine... I... think I used too much energy... and... stuff.”
Spike glanced to where the stallion had been, only to find nothingness, not even the stallion. “The monsters are gone, but where’d the guy go?” Spike muttered.
“A thousand thanks, Miss,” the stallion said, appearing out of nowhere and offering a shoulder to Twilight. “You don’t look so good, Miss.” Twilight found her body abandoning her, only held up by the stallion’s shoulder as he slid up next her in the moments before she fell over. “Woah now, Missy. Don’t you be fainting on me.” He smiled.
Spike then noticed the metal lantern hanging from his next, casting a soft orange glow onto all three individuals Eyes scanning over the stallion, Spike’s inner draconian senses clawing at the back of his mind, urging him to be wary. Then Spike’s eye fell upon the stallion’s cutie mark: a pair of backwards-facing musical notes, though which kind of notes Spike didn’t know. Like a lightbulb going off in his head, Spike recognized the cutie mark, and by extension the stallion himself.
“It’s no problem stranger, really.” Twilight smiled, her legs still about as steady a newborn’s. “What where those things, Mr...?”
“Noteworthy’s the name, Miss. And those things were just your average citizens of this glorious forest.”
Spike pursed his lips to the side, his guess to the stallion’s name being totally accurate. “Strange name,” Twilight said, pushing away from Noteworthy. “I used to know a guy by that name, looked just like you too.”
A pause. Spike shook his head at Twilight, scrunching up his left eye. “What do you mean you don’t know him?” Spike muttered, cautious that Twilight not hear him. He didn’t know why, but his primal sense told him to roll with it. Fight it though he tried, his draconic side won over random impulse. Then the thought that his natural sense had just overcome his other, non-dragon side made him worry, though he pushed all thoughts of that nature to the back of his mind.
Noteworthy glanced down at Spike, his eyes going wide for a moment before he said, “Hey there, tyke, what’cher name?”
“Spike.”
The stallion blinked. “Ah, so you can talk? Odd, a dragon talking.”
Twilight chuckled. “It’s sometimes hard to get him not to.”
Noteworthy nodded, still staring at Spike. “Nice to meet you, Spike.” He looked back at Twilight, who glanced at her forehooves and chuckled. “Again, thanks for saving me. I’d be dead if not for your intervention. Your arrival-” he chuckled “-is so unlikely that I thought y’all were ghosts come to make sure my soul didn’t leave this wretched place.” He blinked. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, ma’am, I didn’t ask for your name.”
“I’m Twilight Sparkle.”
“Twilight Sparkle,” he said, as if tasting the words. “That’s a lovely name... and kinda ironic, if ya think about it.” Noteworthy shook his head. “If there’s anything I can do for ya, I’d do such.”
“Mind telling us where we are?” Spike asked in a dry tone.
Noteworthy adjusted the brown neckerchief he wore. “Smack-dab in the Everfree Forest, Spike. Don’t ya already know?”
Twilight sighed. “If only.”
Cocking a brow, Noteworthy tilted his head a few degrees to the side. “Are y’all okay? And speaking of which, what’s a sorceress like yourself doing out here?”
She shook her head. “I woke up this morning in the middle nowhere, no idea how I got there, and then proceeded to get attacked by everything.” Twilight licked her lips. “We’ve been wandering through the forest for... what feels like ever.”
He blinked. “I find that kinda hard to believe, if you’ll excuse my suspicions.”
Twilight uttered a dry, humorless chuckle. “Nothing I can do about it. I don’t know anything anymore. My head hurts and I want to lie down.”
“Ditto,” Spike chimed. “I mean, is it just me or is the sun refusing to rise?” he chuckled.
Noteworthy took a step back, looking at Spike. “Morbid little guy, ain’t he?”
“Morbid?” Spike asked. “Wha-”
“I know, I know, laughter is the only way we’re going to overcome... but still, it’s kinda black to joke about that.” He shook his head. “Nah, I’m just being overly sensitive. It's been two years, I don’t see why we can’t make the best of the worst-” he shrugged “-you know?”
“I don’t follow,” Twilight said. “What are you getting on about?”
He cocked a brow. “You... you don’t know?”
“Know what?”
Noteworthy whistled. “Dang. You must've hit your head something awful. I’m surprised you can cast spells in that state.”
“What are you talking about?”
He sat down, blowing a puff of air out of his mouth. “How do I put this? Ah, yes.” Noteworthy cleared his throat. “Do you mind if I move into your rock?”
“My... rock?”
“Well, yeah. What rock have you been living under for the past two years? Wherever it is, I’d like to move in. Sounds nice.” He smiled at Twilight.
She flicked her tail in annoyance. “Please, be serious here. I’m honestly confused, and you’re not helping.”
Spike glanced to where the battle had occurred. Squinting at it, he sauntered off to the battleground. Noteworthy held out a foreleg, stopping him before he got off to far. “Woah there, little guy. Where do you think you’re going? Don’t leave the light, it’s bad for you.
“What do you mean?” Spike asked.
Noteworthy rolled his eyes. “Step out of the light, you die. My lantern ran outta oil, which is why those things jumped me. I didn’t have time to refuel the thing.”
“But,” Spike insisted, “we don’t have any lanterns or sources of light, and we weren't attacked or anything... Well, we ran into a few changelings and I saw saw some weird and spindly thing, but none of those... whatever they were that attacked you.”
The stallion tilted his head to the side. “That’s... odd. You sure you weren’t using your lady for a light?”
“Positive.”
“Odd... Very odd indeed.” Noteworthy tapped a hoof to his chin. “Well, Twilight Sparkle and Spike, I don’t know what to tell ya other than ‘see a doctor about that amnesia’ or ‘consider a career in rock-based real estate’.”
Spike bit his inner cheek as looked up at Twilight, her eyes half glazed over as she stared straight ahead like a corpse. He swallowed. “So then, Noteworthy, do you know where the nearest settlement is?”
He scoffed. “Ponyville? Why in the hay would you want to go to that rathole?”
“Ratehole?” Spike asked. Slowly, like a rusted grandfather clock, Twilight angled her head back to Noteworthy, a defeated look in her eyes that made the skin underneath Spike’s scales writhe.
Noteworthy chuckled. “Place ain’t been the same since ol’ Father Madness moved it. But you already know that, so there's no point in me explaining.”
“F-F-Father Madness?” Twilight muttered, her head slumping forwards, her pupils narrowing until they were barely visible dots against the whites of her eyes.
“AKA that sociopath who brings the false sun,” he said in a sardonic tone, “if you’re feeling dramatic. He and the good Führer have been at it for the past year, since-” He whistled. “Sorry, you already know this stuff.”
“Since what?” Spike prompted. A beat passed as Noteworthy stared at him. “I was recently hatched, you see,” he lied. He glanced at Twilight, his heart threatening to savage its way out of his chest. “A-a-and she’s not feeling too well.”
Twilight continued to give her foreground the thousand yard stare, her mouth occasionally moving as if she were speaking or praying, though no sound came from her lips save for incoherent murmurs. “Forty-two... impossible... ‘The night will last forever’... ‘Make some friends,’ she said... ‘Give me that book’...” Spike’s teeth gritted so hard as he watched her that his very enamel, the same enamel capable of eating solid diamonds, nearly shattered under the pressure; his heart, though, had stopped racing, instead resolving itself to sinking into his stomach and alternating between being shaking his body and thrumming blood though his ears.
The stallion sighed. “Well, since Nightmare Moon and all.” Twilight make a barely audible squeaking noise. “But, well, Solis Vult and all that.” Spike cocked a brow. “Solis Vult means ‘the sun wills it’. It’s one of the Führer’s battlecries. Sounds really cool, though I don’t really buy into his crap about ‘saving Equestria’ business or whatever.”
“Soil Vult,” Twilight uttered. “Führer?”
The stallion chuckled. “A nickname, I assure you. It means ‘leader’ in some dead language. You even spell it with these funny little dots over the U.” He tapped a hoof to his jaw. “If the story is correct, it comes from an old photographer lady calling him that, though she was being sarcastic, and it sounded scary; the name just stuck like that, inspires fear and other malarkey.” Noteworthy licked his lips. “Bah, I’m just rambling at this point, sorry. I just don’t know what to say at this point... I kinda have to get going.” He looked over his shoulder, down the road leading deeper in the forest.
“How would... we reach Ponyville?” Twilight asked, her words coming out as slow as molasses.
“You sure y’all wanna head that way? Papa Madness owns that whole region.”
“Papa? I thought it was ‘Father’?” Spike said.
Noteworthy shrugged. “Really, any sort of paternal title, including royal ones, before the capitalized noun of ‘Madness’ refers to the same dude, really. It’s all a matter of personal preference.” He sighed. “If y’all really wanna, just keep going down the road as you were. I gotta go the other way. And since you appear to be safe from them night thingies, I guess you don't really need any of my help, then. Anyways, thanks for helpin’ me, though, I’ll repay that debt someday, I swear it!” He took three steps back from the babbling Twilight before spinning around and trotting the way Twilight and Spike had come from.
“Wait, why are you going deeper into the forest? Shouldn’t you be trying to get out?”
“Nah, Miss. I’m looking for a special somepony.”
“Who?”
A pause. “My fiancee.” And with that, he continued trotting deeper into the heart of the forest.
Spike watched Noteworthy until he rounded corner and disappeared. Sighing, he put a hand on Twilight shoulder. “Hey, hey,” he cooed, “stay with me on this one, Twi’.”
“Four, eight, fifteen, sixteen, twenty-three, f-forty-two...” Her left ear twitched. Blinking, she turned her head to Spike. “H-hey, Spike?”
“Yeah, Twi’?”
A pause. “I don’t think we’re in Equestria anymore... not ours.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s been kinda clear for a while.”
Her eyes widened to the size of pie pans. “D-did I do this to us...?” Spike bite his tongue. “I-is this all... my fault? What if-” her eyes darted left to right “-this is all... my... fault?”
“Twilight, I’m sure that’s impossible. How could you’ve possibly done this?”
She uttered a single humorless chuckle. “Well, there was that one time I went back in time, which ended-”
“Stop it, now ,” Spike said in an authoritative voice. “I – we – need you at your all, Twilight. There’s no way this is your fault, and worrying about it won’t change a thing. You hear?” A pause, then Twilight nodded, though she didn’t look at Spike. “I’ve seen how you get when things go... terrible, but not today, got it? I am not gonna have you being a blubbering wreck of my watch, okay?”
“I-I just...” She shook her head. “I just don’t know anymore. Life’s supposed to make sense – magic A is magic A, this goes there, and you don’t wake up in the middle of the Everfree forest in a world of monsters – you know, normal stuff.”
Spike chuckled, moving to stand in front of Twilight, forcing her to look at him. “Since when has our lives ever been normal? Life’s always been a series of odd and strange things leading up to weirder and weirder things.” He patted her on the cheek, himself smiling. “So just stand back, take a deep breath, and let’s face the music together.”
She rose her head, looking down the road towards Ponyville. “I guess we should go on,” Twilight muttered, her eyes still locked in a thousand yard stare.
Twilight just stood there, staring at the thing before her. Eyes practically hot-glued open and jaw open, her body refused to move. Spike too found his legs unsteady, his stomach churning, and his throat dry. They exchanged looks.
“I-i-i-is this...?” Spike stammered.
A moment of silence as Twilight stared forwards. “I... don’t know.’
Spike rose a hand into the air, extending a finger towards the thing. Touching it, Spike recoiled his hand, shaking his wrist, as though it had burned it. Water-like ripples expanded in a circular pattern from where he had touched, though the ripples were slow and lazy like honey; it was almost as if the thing was made of liquid instead of what it actually was.
“Twilight, what is it?”
She licked her gums, staring at the translucent object. “I... I think it’s some kind of force shield...”
“But... why does it feel like jelly?”
Twilight took a deep breath, contemplating her words. The seconds passed by like hours as she remained silent. “It’s a high-density magical field, that’s why... Ever heard of dehydrated water?”
Spike shook his head. “No.”
“When water is subjected to a high-density magic field, it becomes a fourth state of matter wherein the water because rough and granular-like – essentially becoming sand you can swim in.” Spike shot her an oblong look. “The fourth state of matter affects thing differently.”
“I thought the fourth state of matter was... uh, that really hot stuff thing. You know, that thingy-stuff that comes from the sun.”
“Plasma.”
“I thought that was that stuff in blood – the stuff you can... tran-fixu, uh... give to other ponies.”
Twilight poked her tongue into her cheek. “According to Atomic Enthalpy, there are four ‘proper’ states of matter: solids, liquids, gases, and plasma. Though, for all intents and purposes, there are really only solids, liquids, and gases – plasma simply being ionized gas.”
Spike blinked. “I’m going to pretend I understood that,” he deadpanned.
She sighed. “There are only three ‘proper’ states. But there exists a fourth quasi-state of matter which only exists when atoms are subjected to high-density magic fields. You can often tell a high-density magical field from the color sacarine in rainbows.”
“Sacarine?” Spike intoned. “Are you just making things up?”
Twilight shook her head. “Look, sacarine is the color of magic and of imagination – it always looked kinda greenish-purple to me, though; I don’t know why I think that, but I do. And it is not to be confused with saccharine, though pronounced almost the same, which is sugar.” She shrugged. “Point is that each element behaves differently when in a high-density magic field for long enough: hydrogen turns solid, whereas magic doesn’t seem to visibly affect breathable oxygen – but when put together as water and then subjected to magic-” she shrugged “-the substance turn into liquid sand.”
Spike blinked. “And that answers any of my questions... how, exactly?”
She smiled. “The thing before us is – or at least I think it is – magical potassium – like in bananas! Also, raw potassium is highly explosive. Seriously. It will explode. Trust me. I’ve had a few accidents with it.”
Cocking a brow at the unicorn, Spike asked, “And that means what to me or helps us how?”
Twilight nodded. “It means that there is a giant dome of super-magical potassium covering the entire ponyville region, and within that translucent and semi-seethrough bubble is a giant sun-like orb!” A pregnant pause, then Twilight frowned. “That raises further questions!” she screamed at the bubble.
“Can... we go through it?” Spike asked, prodding a finger at the shield.
She groaned. “Technically... yes. But the fact that it’s here, and that it’s so massive, and that it’s shaped like how it is, means there is an enormously powerful field of magic holding it up, and I don’t feel any magic – that means that the extreme magical pressure is so localized that it’s only affecting the potassium. That amount of focus is something only, say, Celestia or-” her expression died “-Discord could do.”
“And the fact that it’s almost daytime here and nowhere else... doesn’t exactly leave us many choices but to go in, huh?”
“If only we could see past Ponyville and into the rest of Equestria,” she muttered. Twilight shook her head. “Okay, on the count of three-” she glanced over her shoulder “-we go through the potassium, okay?”
“I’m game.”
“Okay.” Twilight took a deep breath, steeling her nerves. “One... two... three!” Spike and Twilight walked forwards, their bodies being consumed by the quasi-colloid of magical potassium. The thin layer of magic which held the potassium in place shocked Twilight’s horn, making her teeth teeth clatter and her intestines rumble with discomforting and rampant magic. It didn’t help that she couldn’t breathe as she pushed through the half-foot-thick barrier.
Gasping, the intrepid duo tumbled through the other side, landing in fertile grass as golden sunlight rained down upon them. Spike, laying on his back, stared up at the bubble. Twilight, having fallen to the ground, stood back up, shaking her shoulders as if they were covered in cobwebs.
Spike blinked, standing up himself. “Are we...?”
Twilight, her mouth open and expression nonplussed, jerked her head to and fro, her eyes clamoring for details and knowledge. Before her were the bucolic fields of green which surrounded the place she called home. An apple orchard stood tall and proud near her, and beyond that was the quaint hamlet of Ponyville. Only it wasn’t a the quaint hamlet Twilight explicitly recalled; rather, what stood was a gleaming bastion to illogic and din. It was as if the town had been built into a metropolis by a series of successive madponies – each with an intense and passionate hatred for the previous madpony’s unique flavor of madness. It was as if that as these madponies were trying to outdo each other’s madness, a god of insanity had come along and painted the already nonsensical city a lovely shade of mindscrew – just looking at the city gave Twilight a headache.
“I... I want to say it but I don’t.”
“Do we enter it, or...?”
She swallowed a lump in her throat. “Do we have a choice?”
***
“Stop right there, criminal scum!” a stallion barked, causing Twilight to tense up. She stood in the middle of a bustling Ponyville street that was lined with three-storied buildings, some of which seemed normal and others would have made a surrealist’s head spin. Her eyes fell upon three stallion clad in hot-pink plate mail, only to the have the guards charge past her and Spike. The stallions charged up to the front of a building where a green mare wearing a jester's hat stood.
“Twilight, let's go,” Spike urged.
Twilight moved to take a step, only for the once bustling crowd around her to stop what it was doing, turn towards the officers, and push forwards, creating a crescent-like shape around the guards.
“Woah, woah, woah!” Twilight protested. “Why are we all pushing and shoving to the scene of a crime?”
A yellow stallion wearing a tophat next to Twilight scoffed. “Don’t’cha know, lady?” he said in a squeaky voice. “Gathering in crowds to watch any vaguely interesting event is the national pastime here in Ponyville.”
“Say what?” Twilight demanded.
“Citizen!” the lead guard barked. “You are being arrested for committing an anticrime: breaking and redecorating!”
“What,” Spike deadpanned. From his position upon Twilight’s back, Spike could just barely poke his eyes over Twilight and thus see the commotion.
The mare, her expression staunch and stern, replied, “You cannot accuse a jester of an anticrime!”
“And why not?” The guard asked, his tone barely above a growl.
“Because this is my house! I am the fool who lords over this manor hold; if I wish to redecorate it, so be it!”
“Then why did you break your window to get in, hmm?”
“Because I’m crazy!” she snarled. “Have you ever gone through the Fool’s University‽” She stomped her hooves, baring her teeth. “It’s not funny at all! They’ll scar you for life there! An assassin's guild would be more jocular than we are! So do not tell me I cannot choose to break my own window then redecorate my own household!”
A green unicorn stallion carrying a brown paper bag filled with groceries trotted up to the jester’s house, pausing only as he noticed the commotion outside the house. “Why is there a crowd outside my house?”
“Sir, is this your house?” the guard asked.
“LIES!” the jester snarled.
“It is... Who redecorated my living room? Why are all the couches covered in green doilies?”
The guards tackled the jester, wrapping her in hoofcuffs in the aftermath of a brief and uneventful struggle. As soon as the mare was captured, the crown that had gathered dispersed, going about their business as if nothing had just happened.
“What... just happened?” Twilight muttered.
“My head hurts,” Spike replied, rubbing his forehead.
“I think we should keep going to the central castle before my head explodes.”
“I agree 100%.”
***
“Just how many thaums must it take to do that?” Twilight asked, her eyes wide at the sight before her eyes. The formidable fortress in the center of Ponyville had seemed so tall and giant to Twilight; up close, however, the fortress was still scary, yet it was painted with various bits of happy artworks, though it wasn’t as tall as she had thought. It was literally floating by about three yards above the ground, occasionally bobbing in that way that floating stuff does.
“I’m going to pretend that statement made sense,” Spike muttered. “Do I dare ask what a thaum is?”
She sighed. “A thaum is a subatomic magical particle composed of five flavors: up, down, sideways, sex appeal, and peppermint. Think quarks and gluons, only magical.”
“Yeah... I’m just gonna nod my head and say ‘Yeah, I understood that A-okay’.” He tugged at her mane, pointing a finger at a particular piece of artwork of the castle's wall. “Does that pink pony up there remind you anypony?”
“Is that... Pinkie Pie? What’s she doing up there?” Twilight asked, tilting her head to the side as she stared at the particular piece of graffiti.
“Apparently she’s a French painting.” Spike whistled.
Twilight’s eye darted back to focus on the whole of the castle. “How much magic does it take to hold that up, do you think?”
“Well, if you can turn potassium into a magical bubble, then why not be able to do this?”
“B-but this is clearly... something here violates one of law of physics.”
“Besides the fact that a giant hunk of stone is floating a few feet off the ground, you mean?” Spike rubbed the back of his neck.
Twilight tilted her head to the side. “This has to violate the Law of Conservation of Reality. The manual power to do this would be incredible, but to magically keep this up and also the shield... would – no, should – violate the Conservation of Reality.”
“Uh... I think our audience-” tugging at his collarbone, he glanced around the empty street “-might not get that.”
“What audience?”
Spike sighed. “I wasn’t being literal – it was a joke... I don’t get that... law thingy thing.”
“The Conservation of Reality-” she sighed “-states that the effort to cause something to happen magically must equal the force required to perform said action using conventional – or non-magical – means. If you try to break the Law, then your brain will get pushed out through your ears and you will die. Simple as that.” A pause. ”You’d know that if you read half the books I bought you.”
“I spend half the day sorting your messes, Twilight,” he deadpanned. “You’d be a wreck without me. So forgive me if I don’t read everything you give me.”
Twilight opened her mouth to reply, only for the fortress’s steel portcullis to open up, and from it extended a thick wooden ramp. It landed before Twilight, as if inviting them to climb. She stared up at the fortress, her eyes going wide.
Spike tapped a finger to her back. “You know, that fortress isn't going to just tell you how it’s breaking... Conservation of Reality or whatever just because you gave it a funny look. Either we go in or we go back. It’s your call.”
“Alright,” she sighed, “here goes nothing.” Twilight put a hoof on the wooden ramp. With a pulse of light she found herself somewhere else. She stumbled forwards, the surprise gouged across her muzzle. Just as her face leapt toward the ground, a field of magic ensnared her, holding her in place and allowing her to catch her balance.
She glanced around, finding herself is some sort of throne room complete with a large central red carpet and glamorous stained-glass windows. She angled her eyes forwards, spying a large set of throne stairs. Twilight’s eyes latched onto the bottom step for what felt like eons, her heart pounding like a metronome, until she forced her eyes up to the next stair. Taking a deep breath, she forced her eyes over the stairs, following them up until they reached a steel throne with crimson cushioning.
Twilight’s heart seized up, momentarily forgetting to pump blood as her eyes refused to acknowledge what she was seeing. She could hear Spike’s breath hastening its tempo, yet he too refused to speak. He just stared up at what Twilight’s mind was trying its hardest to deny.
The creature, or rather he, was composed of an amalgam of different creatures; to Twilight he always looked like a violation of creation. His head, attached the rest of his serpentine body via a lengthy neck, was like that of a prehistoric and savage pony; the head was characterized by two horns, one goat-like and the other a deer’s antler, a single fang jutting out of his mouth, pupil’s of constantly different sized, a white goatee, and forked snake tongue. Further down, the being had two arms, one that of a lion and the other ending in an eagle’s talon; and two legs, one like a goat and one like a lizard. Upon his back were two wings, one like that of a pegasus and the other a bat’s. At the very end of his body was a snake-like tail. He was the fabled draconequus, and Twilight recognized him by name.
“D-Discord,” she muttered, her pupils going wide.
He smiled, leaning forwards in this throne. “Aww, I’m sorry. Were you expecting somepony else?”
“B-b-b-but-”
“But what, Twilight Sparkle?” he asked, snapping his talons. Immediately, Twilight and Spike found themselves in plush chairs. “You should be so lucky that I am not the kind to hold grudges,” Discord growled.
“How are you... not encased in stone?” Twilight demanded, her throat so dry that it threatened to choke her. “I saw you-”
“There may be but one Discord in the whole of the multiverse, but I am not bound by many of your petty laws,” he chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. Discord clamped his jaws shut, staring at Twilight as if his eyes could shoot laser beams as he stroked his chin. “So if you’re here,” he muttered, “then is this his plan?” Snapping his fingers once more, Twilight and Spike found themselves without their chairs, instead they now stood side-by-side.
Twilight stamped a hoof, growling, “Discord, I swear if this all your fault, I will stop you once again!”
The draconequus laughed, putting a hand to his breast. “Me? You think moi did this? No, no, no, no, no, Twilight Sparkle. See, I’m just here for a vacation.”
“Explain, now!”
He rolled his eyes, snapping his fingers. Immediately, Twilight and Spike found themselves standing upon the ramparts of Discord’s fortress, the draconequus standing between the two. “Lemme put it this way, Twilight: I’m a divine spirit, thus not bound by your rules. There is but one me, but I can be anywhere.” He snapped his fingers, teleporting them to the top of a nearby turret. “Where you’re from I’ve been turned to stone. If I were to, say, return to where you’re from, I’d assume my body there, which is still encased in my stone prison. Here, however, I have free reign... for certain values of the word ‘free’... There, does that explain everything?”
“No! What did you do to Equestria‽”
Snapping his fingers, he summoned a tray of biscuits with complimentary tea cups. “Care for one?”
“No!” Twilight snarled.
“Actually,” Spike said, “I suppose I’m a bit peckish.” Discord handed him a biscuit. “Thanks.” Twilight glared daggers into Spike. “What?” Spike asked, taking a bit of his biscuit. “I haven't eaten all day. So sue me.”
Shrugging, Discord took a sip of tea. “Gee, Twilight, you say it as if I was inviting you to a baby-seal-clubbing party or whatever,” he chuckled. Twilight glared at him. “I didn’t do anything to Equestria,” Discord sighed. “It was like this when I found it. If anything, I made it better.”
“Liar!” she snarled, practically foaming at the mouth.
“Sheesh, Twilight, calm your horses.”
“My... whats?” Twilight growled.
Discord snapped his fingers, teleporting back into his throne room. “I’m a spirit, Twilight. Undomesticated equines could not hold me in place,” he said with a grin. He took the tea cup he had in hand and bite down on it, cracking the porcelain in his teeth as he chewed upon it. After swallowing the last bits of the cup, he remarked, “You’re not in Kansas anymore, Twilight.”
“What’s Kansas?” Spike asked.
“Ask the Wicked Witch of the West,” he casually replied with a shrug.
“Enough of your shenanigans!” Twilight snapped. “How did you escape your stone prison, and how did you destroy Equestria‽”
He sighed, standing up and walking down the staircase leading to his throne. “This face was born in blood and desperation. So don’t look deeper than my skin, dear child,” Discord sung. “True beauty is so painful, my dear. The price we pay is shameful, my dear. Don’t you know, the surgeon’s cut is like a fountain of youth. I’m living proof; oh, look at me and tell the truth.” Twilight snorted, digging a hoof into the ground and lowering her head as if to charge. The draconequus reached a hand behind his back, pulling out a white surgeon’s mask and then wrapping it around his face. “Don’t you know, you’ve got to suffer at the end of the knife. Yeah, that’s the price for fortune, fame, your name in lights. Don’t you want it? Tell no lies.”
Twilight took three steps back he reached the end of the small stairway. “Discord, I’m warning you.”
“Warning me what? You’re nothing here, Twilight! This is not your world, no. This an utterly different reality.”
Twilight blinked. ”Bu-wuh?”
Discord made a vertical slashing gesture with his hand. “You don’t belong in this world, Twilight. Do you know why? Because the Lovecraftian force which controls you is dead here!” he snarled, continuing to walk towards her, prompting Twilight to back up in response to each of his steps. “Dear child, it’s because your universe was built so as to be rigged!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Destiny is so awful, my dear.” He reached behind his back with his right hand, pulling out a steel scalpel. “The price of power is evil, my dear. Won’t you tell me, and please be truthful, does true beauty come from within?”
Apprehension clouding her eyes, she stared at the scalpel. Spike, who sat on her back, clung even tighter to her. “I-I-I-I don’t know... What are you getting at... and why are you holding a scalpel?”
“Oh, this old thing?” he asked, turning the blade sideways and grabbing its blade with his other hand. Squeezing the blade as tight as he could, he sliced the blade through his left palm. The scalpel came out as a balloon animal, promoting Discord to giggle. “I’m just messing with ya!” Discord yawned, halting his menacing approach to Twilight. “You see, Twilight...” He snapped his fingers. “Pinkie, come here!”
Out of the blue galloped a bombastic pink mare. She skidded along the floor before coming to a complete stop before Discord and saluting him. “Yes sir, Discord! What can ol’ Pinkie do for you today, huh?”
“Pinkie Pie?” Twilight gasped. “Pinkie, over here! It's me-”
“You!” Pinkie gasped. “You know my name!” She smiled. “Awesome! You must be, like, the best guesser ever! Ooh, ooh, lemme try to guess your name!” She put a hoof ot her chin. “Hmm... Dragon Tamer? Compass? Magicy-unicorny-pony-y? I give up, so tell me, tell me, tell me!”
Twilight blinked, her jaw going limp. Spike’s reaction was not dissimilar. “Y-you don’t recognize me?”
“Why would I recognize you? I’ve never seen you before,” she chuckled. “Not unless I was... I dunno, some kinda psychic pony. Boy, that'd be awesome-”
Discord snapped his fingers. “Pinkie, focus.” She spun around, saluting Discord again. “Now then, find me the labyrinth thingy.”
“The spiky red one or the squishy green one?”
“The kinda organic and fruity blue one.”
“Ahh.” She smiled, spinning around. “Ight-ray way-ay, iscord-Day!” she chirped, galloping away.
“What. Did. You. Do. To. Pinkie‽” Twilight snarled.
Discord rolled his eyes. “I didn’t do anything. I never did. She isn’t corrupted, nor is she some evil version. She’s the same Pinkie you always knew... only-” he chuckled “-she never knew you.”
“What do you mean?” Twilight asked in a belligerent tone.
He smiled. “Allow me to put it simply, Twilight.” Discord snapped his fingers again, promoting a monocle to manifest around his left eye and a book to appear in his hands. He opened the book, proceeding to flip through the pages. “See now, this ledger contains a record of every birth during the year in which you were born. Hmm, there, ponies... unicorn ponies... Canterlot General Hospital... surname of S...” He frowned. “It appears that you’re absent, my dear.”
“What?”
Discord flipped the book around, showing Twilight the page. “There is nopony named Twilight Sparkle born here. So who are you, then, if not Twilight Sparkle?” The draconequus chuckled.
“This doesn’t prove anything,” Twilight snarled. “You could just as easily have faked this – in fact, you probably did!”
The draconequus rolled his eyes. At just the moment in time came Pinkie Pie, a blue organic ball in her mouth. She jerked her neck, tossing it as Discord, who caught it. The ball was covered in odd rubber bulbs, as if it had particularly firm tumors, and looked vaguely like a blueberry. Pinkie saluted Discord.
Then the pink pony spun to Twilight. “Hey there, stranger! So, if you live through this, I’ll throw you a ‘welcome to the chaos’ party! Deal?”
“Pinkie, hush,” Discord said, putting a finger to his lips. Pinkie frowned, whimpering. “See now, Twilight,” he chuckled, “if I could do it, I would expunge your life here and now – all problems solved, right?” Twilight took a step back, eying Discord. “I have the means, I have the motive, and at first glance, there’d be no consequences because you’re not a local.” He squeezed the ball. “But let me sum it up for you: you’re not in your universe; you’re in a universe where there is one significant difference – the lack of the element narrativium.”
“The what?” Twilight asked.
He snapped his fingers. Immediately the book and monocle disappeared, replaced by a black fedora on his head, black spike-like makeup around his right eye, and a black walking cane in his free hand. “Clockwork Orange... I like it,” he muttered. He shook his head. “Twilight, your world, and indeed this one too, is a strange place. Which is why I liked it so much. But here?” He gestured his cane to the aether. “Here has everything I love about your world, but with one major subtraction.”
Twilight swallowed, a blank look on her face as reality finally pierced her skull. “Th-that I... wasn’t born...”
“Pfft! Well, yeah, but that was a side effect of the major subtraction.” He pointed his cane at her. “Ever wonder why it is that the goods guys always win? That evil always fails?” Discord floated backwards and up, casting his shadow over Twilight. “Have you ever pondered – if even for a minute – about just how astronomically improbable it was that you met your five best friends all in the same place‽” He jerked his head to Pinkie. “Oh, sorry, Pinkie. You're dismissed,” he said in a conversational tone.
“Aye-aye, mon capitane !” Pinkie chirped, spinning around and galloping off.
Putting a finger to his chin, he mumbled, “Hmm? Now where was I? Oh yes, my dramatic monologue/reveal details thingy.” He cleared his throat. “Have you ever asked about just how easily all the pieces fell into place for you‽ Ever wondered what gave Celestia the idea to give you the backlog of your Friendship Reports when all hope was lost‽ Why is it that you of all ponies bears the sixth and final Element of Harmony, Magic‽ How is it that the five ponies you because attached to through the bonds of friendship just so happens to also bear the Elements of Harmony‽Have you ever thought about any of this‽ What makes you so special‽”
Twilight, her neck scrunched back and backing up, shook her head. “I-I-I-I-I... No...”
“Leave her alone!” Spike snarled, jumping Twilight back and standing in front of her, emerald flames writhing in his mouth.
Discord smiled as floated himself over to Twilight. His back to the ground, he hovered mere feet off the floor. The draconequus put himself to Twilight’s left as he reached an arm around and dug a finger into her jaw-joint on the right half of her head. Twilight froze as if she were locked in time and space by eldritch magics, her eyes wide. Spike bared his claws, his maw oozing fire.
“It’s because someone – or more accurately something – has been giving you a helping hoof.” He flew back from her. “In fact, it’s a reasonable argument to say that you were created on demand by this thing. You reek of it; it drenches you like a festering layer of sweat after a heavy workout; it is one with your very soul so much so as it cannot be rinsed free with a simple shower. And it is the very thing this universe lacks – narrativium.”
“N-narrativium?” Twilight muttered, staring straightforwards.
“Indeed, Twilight Sparkle. It is that which ensures the narrative pattern. But I won’t tell you what that is, as that would be telling. See, because you have it globbed to you like the festering orifice of a...” He shook his head. “I can’t hurt you. Moreover, there is only so much of it you have on you. And narrativium is affected by diffusion, too. Yet once it is free of you, you will be subject to the same laws as everyone else is. All I can hope to do is be rid of you until whenever that time is.” He tossed the ball in his hand out to Twilight. It stopped right before her face as Spike jumped up and grabbed in his own hand.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn't turn you into a barbeque,” Spike growled.
“Simple, little dragon. I’ll give you two! ‘Cause you can't hurt me, and because you’re not a killer.”
Spike canted the ball at Discord, who caught it in his own hand. “Have it. I don’t want it.”
Discord, focusing his attention at the ball as if it held the key to the universe, compressed the ball in both of his hands, crushing it. “Little puppet, gentle child. Don’t wait – time is running out. Little dragon, the path is long. But now, I’ve given you my time.” He held a hand out to Twilight. “Leave yourself in my care; follow me into Wonderland, if you dare.” He retracted the hand. “But this world is not your own. You can’t win.” A pause. “And either way I lose... if he wasn’t bluffing,” he muttered.
“Twilight, I think we should run,” Spike whispered through gritted teeth. She didn't reply. “Twilight?” Spike asked, turning to face Twilight and coming face-to-face with a nearly dead expression. “Are you okay? Twilight? Twilight!”
“My head hurts,” she moaned.
“Since I can neither kill you nor lock you up, I guess I’m forced to agree with Spike on this one... If you want answers, go to Canterlot Castle. There’s an old friend waiting for you there. Perhaps by then you’ll be killable. I dunno.” He tapped a foot to the ground, creating a line in the floor made out of dismembered mannequins. “I suggest leaving. That line of creepy mannequins will lead you out.”
“You not going to... hurt or torture us?” Spike asked, pressing his back to Twilight.
“I’d love to, but I’m obligated to be unable until that narrativium diffuses.” He snapped his fingers, creating a rolled-up paper map before Spike’s feet. “That there, boy, I say, is a map of New Equestria.”
Spike grabbed the map, unraveling it. “It’s just a raw map. There’s nothing but a compass rose and geography... and and two dots, one purple and one blue.”
“I know. As you discover new places, the map will automatically update itself with the names of places you visit. It also shows you where you are in real time – the purple one being Twilight, the blue one being you. I’d make a comparison, but your native universe doesn’t have any suitable ones to make.”
“Why are you doing this?” Spike asked, looking up from the map to Discord.
“I may be bad, but even evil has standards. Besides, this is the most dangerous kind of trick in a trickster’s arsenal: the truth.” He glanced at Twilight, whose open mouth did her no favors. “I think we broke her. You might want to take her away, Spike. You two only have so much time before it’s all over for you; narrativium can only protect you so much – even then, dear, narrativium won’t stop you from getting brutally hurt or wounded; it only makes sure that the ends happen.”
“I... gotcha,” Spike said. He turned around and put his hands to Twilight’s breast, pushing her. “Let’s go,” he said in a strained tonn.
***
“So, what now, Twilight?” Spike asked, sitting down upon a rock. Twilight grunted. He looked up from his perch, staring out across the vast expanse of green beneath the potassium bubble. Next to him was a tree with a luscious canopy of leaves – the highlight of Spike’s chosen hill – and leaning on the tree was Twilight, her expression so blank that it was easy to mistake her for a corpse. “I’m inclined to agree,” he sighed, putting his elbows on his legs. Spike stuck in tongue into his cheek for no real reason.
“We’re not in Kansas anymore,” Twilight muttered, causing Spike to glance back at her.
Putting his face in his hands, he groaned, “Look, Twilight, I love you and all, but would you just shutup? You keeping muttering random things like a crazy pony.” Twilight murmured something, but Spike didn’t even bother trying to listen.
He pulled out the map, studying it as if it would reveal some great secret. The map, which had previously just been geography, now had Ponyville labeled and marked on the map. It had done that as soon as he had dragged Twilight out of Discord’s fortress, making the sound of a harp as it did so. Sighing, he put the map away.
“Let’s review, shall we?” Spike said to nopony in particular. “And stop me if I’m wrong. We’re in a different universe where the main difference is something or other regarding narrativium. Check. Nightmare Moon is probably still around, so that means that the sun won’t rise and that Celestia is probably boned. Check. Discord is mucking about with his chaos, and funnily enough, he has a sun and ponies seem to like it here. Check and check. Lastly, some Führer pony is running around, trying to stop both Discord and Nightmare moon. No idea who he is. Check. Also, Big Macintosh is probably still around, I think. So, anything to add to our pool of knowledge?” Twilight muttered something. “Steller,” he deadpanned.
A black bat landed nearby, squeaking as it did so. It turned to Spike, as if it expected something from him. As Spike’s eyes stared at the landed bat, his focus was drawn to the bat’s right leg, where a note was attached. Cocking a brow, Spike stood up and walked to the bat, which still stood there on all ours. Kneeling down, he grabbed the message from the bat. Immediately the bat dove into the sky, flying towards the nearest wall of the bubble.
“What the...?” he mumbled as he opened the letter, prompting two golden tickets to slide out and onto the ground.
“To whom it may concern,
“This message is a formal invitation from Her Royal Majesty Nightmare Moon to attend this year’s Grand Galloping Gala, which is to be held in seven days’ time from receiving this message. Contained within are two invitations. We hope to see you there, as our glorious Queen shall be attending in the flesh.”
“Can I see that?” someone asked.
“Oh, yeah. Sure. Whatever,” Spike said, handing off the letter to his left. He paused, his eyes bulging as he actually took the time to look at the speaker.
“Hmm, an invitation?” Discord muttered. “And through messenger bats, no less. How quaint.”
“Discord!” Spike snapped.
“Yeah, hi, it’s me. How’s your day?” Discord said in a conversational tone.
“You!” Twilight snarled. “What are you doing here‽”
“Twilight! You snapped out of it!” Spike cheered.
Discord yawned. “Yeah, well, you made it the distance to the borderlands, so that’s an accomplishment in and of itself. While under my control, this area is notably less able than the central nexus.” He shook his head. “But none of that makes sense to you, does it?”
“Why. Are. You. Here?” Twilight growled, taking a position next to Spike.
The draconequus rolled his eyes. “I forgot to mention something critical, you see. Something which may or may not help me, but I’ll willing to take a risk.”
“Can your lies! I know this is somehow your fault! And I will stop you if it’s the last thing I do!”
Spike pumped a fist. “You tell him, girl!”
Discord shook his head. “Not only is this not my fault, but I wasn’t the first one here. Nightmare Moon was first. I came about a year later; ponies love me because I’m the only thing allowing them to eat crops. Seriously. Nightmare’s ponies are omnivores now – which isn’t bad, really. I’m an omnivore too. But I came here after the rough equivalent of a European Spring Break, really.”
“What’s European? No, wait, don’t answer that. I don’t care.”
The draconequus pinched two fingers on one hand together. “Sandman, Sandman,” he singsonged in a silky tone, prompting Twilight to actually growl at him. “La-le-lu – someone’s got their eye on you. Now the poorest foals are sleeping. You should sleep too. La-le-lu – and the little hearts freeze though. When the other kids are calling, you’re worthless too.” A pause. “Knowledge, knowledge! Please turn out the lights. The truth is a big scam. So let me dream tonight. Knowledge, knowledge! Stand here by my side. Sprinkle stardust into my eyes, and let me sleep ‘till I die.”
“Stop singing,” Twilight demanded.
Discord floated backwards, still singing. “Twilight, Twilight! This night, this night! Can’t you see your children hate us? Slowly, surely they are damned to fail. Twilight, Twilight! Up tight, up tight! Like a big casino gone bust. Everyone’s ‘for sale’!” He dropped his tone to a somber yet still singing one. “‘Let them eat cake!’ someone said. But all the children want is bread. Screaming their lungs out every night, the hunger burning deep inside! ‘Let them eat cake!’ someone said.” He floated up to Twilight, running a finger across her neck. “Until the day she lost her head.” Discord pulled back, gesturing at Ponyville. “Let me show you prosperity.” He pointed away from Ponyville, towards the Equestrian heartland which was covered in darkness. “Where children want for what they need.
“Stop singing!” she shouted.
Laughing, Discord crossed his arms over his chest. “Funny this is that I’m the good guy here. Remember how, when you lost control over your Elements and Celestia’s power was gone, I rose the sun and moon on a five minute schedule?” Twilight stared at him, her eyes seething with hate. “With Celestia off to who-knows-where, I’m the only one with power over the sun.” He flashed her a toothy grin. “Ponies prefer chaos and madness to starvation, Twilight. They practically worship me! I’m not a god, but to them it doesn't matter. I give them the ability to farm like the good old days.”
“You’re insane!”
Snapping his fingers, the cane he had from earlier appeared in his hand. “No one here can tell which direction is the right direction to take. No one here can tell you who is good or bad – don’t make a mistake.” He pointed the cane at Twilight. “Child, for heaven’s sake!” he said, his words coming out so fast they they blended into one. “This isn’t your world. You don’t know now who you are. You don’t know now what love is for. The mirrored face you see is strange. There’s no one here to share your pain.”
“Quit singing!” Spike shouted.
Still looking at Twilight, Discord continued. “Time and again you’ve locked me out. And hardened up your heart in doubt. The me inside your second skin... has spoiled your thinking once again.” He uttered a chuckle oozing with malevolence, his tone changing to match. “When I possess your souls, I’ll say things. And use you as my personal plaything. The time will come, I’ll dull your senses. If you don’t stop, this game is endless.” He rose a fist into the air, knocking his hand twice as if rapping on a door. “Knock, knock – here we come. He’s got you under his thumb.” A pause. “This isn’t my doing, I swear to you upon my blood.
“Then who?” Twilight asked.
He stopped singing. “I didn’t send you here, nor am I the one making all of this happen to you. No. You’re the puppet of a far greater evil than I. Der Krähenkönig, the King of Crows. And his name is-”
“Well, well, well, the Father himself!” a mare said, her tone awash with arrogance. Everyone jerked their heads to the new voice. She was surrounded by dark-coated pegasi clad in likewise dark colored armor, their wings black and bat-like, and their eyes snake-like. An aura of shadowy magics served as their backdrop.
“Where did you come from?” Discord asked.
“Servants of the Nightmare Eternal have their ways.”
Twilight starred at the mare, her mind conceived there was something familiar. The mare’s coat was as black as her soldiers. Her styled and curled mane shared color with her armor – both of which highly distinguished her from the pegasi. Even her eyes – blue and snake-like, the pupils looking as if somepony had taken a knife to them and slashed vertically – stood out. Then there was her body – toughened and refined like a supermodel’s, and utterly unique in shape in Twilight’s experience. And lastly there was her unmistakable voice with its refined and cultured accent the likes of which Twilight knew of only one mare using.
“No...” Spike murmured. “I-is that-”
“Rarity...” Twilight muttered, her eyes going wide as she and Spike pressed their backs against the lone tree on the hill.
“I knew I shouldn’t have gone out this far,” Discord groaned.
Rarity grinned, her white omnivorous teeth almost gleaming. “Our Mother in Heaven,” she said in sardonic tone, “hallowed be thy game. Thy flesh for someone. Thy will be done. So just give us Heaven on Earth now. And forgive us all our desires. Now lead us into temptation. And deliver us from all that's evil.”
Discord held up a hand, parroting the motions of someone speaking. “Oooh, look at me – I’m a brainwashed psychopathic worshipper of the night.” He dropped the hand. “Pah-lease. And you’ve quite the nerve penetrating this far into the borderlands. Even this far from the nexus my power is absolute.”
“And thy will be done, Nightmare.“ Rarity sneered at Discord. “You, a hideous amalgam of the evolutionary recycling bin, shall be erased, paving way for Her Kingdom Come. We light the way for shadow; the way is cleared and we ride forth.” Her horn began to swirl with a black tendril of magic, manifesting around her and her militant contingent.
Swatting a hand, Discord said, “I liked it better when you were a prissy fashion designer. But, you see, I don’t have time to deal with you. I’m afraid I’ll have to ‘Team Rocket’s blasting off again’ on your haunches.” He snapped his fingers. Nothing happened. “What.” He snapped his finger once more to no effect. “By Azura, by Azura, by Azura!”
“And so her blessing prevails!” Rarity stated in a cool tone of voice. “It it as she foretold. The veil gives us strength, and it drains yours!” She chuckled, her soldiers taking up battle positions around her. “You've sung your last song; you’re eternal thread shall be snipped by her scissors.” She rose a hoof into the air and pointed at the Father of Madness “Slaughter.” Ten soldiers dove into the sky and through the air at Discord.
“Don’t mean much of a difference. You forget that I am the one who planted the seed of doubt which sprang forth as the Nightmare.” He lifted his cane into the air. ”But more importantly: I have a cane!” Discord jerked the cane to the nearest soldier, sending the stallion to the ground. “Batter up!” he shout, swinging the cane with both hands and crippling the bat-like wings of another soldier. Balancing the cane on a single talon, he swiped with his lion’s paw hand, swatting a soldier out of the air. He twirled around for effect, ending with a black fedora on his head. “Who’s bad?” he cooed, tipping the hat forwards and floating back to the ground.
The seven remaining forces pulled out short blades attached to their forelegs, charging at Discord. “Beat it!” Discord bellowed as they charged their blades through him. The Father of Madness didn’t even seem phased. “Oh, hey, look – you missed.” His body collapsed into dust.
“Did we get him?” one of the soldiers hissed.
“Nope!” Discord said, floating in the air above the soldiers and thrusting his cane into the back of the speaker's head. “Illusion spell, my dearies!” With a sound like eggs sizzling on a frying pan, two balls of swirling purple manifested in Discord’s hands, each ball surging with sparks.
“Impossible!” Rarity snarled, a dark-blue aura enveloping her horn. “You shouldn’t be able to cast spells with the veil up! This is against the Law of Conservation of Reality!”
“I never studied law!” Discord bellowed, hurling one the balls into the crowd of soldiers, turning three of them into bowls of petunias as it trapped them all in a violet sphere of magic. He wound a hand back to throw the other ball, only for a dark-blue bolt of energy to slam into his chest, sending Discord stumbling through the air, the second ball dying out in a crackle of energy. “Oh, you are gonna suffer!” he snarled.
Rarity put a hoof to her chest, bowing her head and closing her eyes. “She who is the most beautiful mare of all, whom I hold closer than my own blood, grant me the strength to-”
“Shaddup!” Discord snapped, throwing his cane at Rarity. The cane flew straight as an arrow, its thin side making a beeline for Rarity’s eyes. Just as the weapon was about to strike Rarity, a wave-like half-shield of midnight blue magic dove into the air before Rarity, block the projective.
A smug grin her face, Rarity snickered. “And she pulls through for the faithful.” Transparent tendrils of smoky midnight blue energy wrapped around Rarity like a revealing but tight dress. It slinked around her, pouring into her mouth, tear ducts, nose, and horn. As the last of the energy poured into her body, she opened her eyes and chuckled.
Snapping his fingers, a ceramic bowl of green magic manifest in his hand. He pitched the bowl at the magic sphere holding the remaining soldiers and three bowls of petunias. When it hit them they all screamed in agony before bursting into flame, landing on the ground as yet more clay bowls of petunias. The sphere holding then also died out. “I do so love petunias!” He jerked his head to Rarity. “How’s about I turn you into a sperm whale, teleport you up into the upper atmosphere, the watch you fall to earth, during which time you will come to terms with reality, finally accepting it before splattering on the ground, hmm?”
“You would dare‽” Rarity snarled, magics swirling around her horn.
“And how!” he chirped, a ball of purple energy coming to life in his hand. “Learn your place!” Discord bellowed, hurling the ball at Rarity. A pillar of crystallized darkness came into existence before Rarity, the huge icicle-like protection spearing forth and colliding with Discord’s energy ball, turning the magic into an small ice sculpture of a sperm whale.
“Alright! This has gone on long enough!” Spike bellowed, standing between Rarity and Discord, a golden ticket in either hand.
“Spike, what are doing?” Twilight asked, her mouth finally allowing her to speak.
“Stopping this madness before it gets too far,” he replied in a cool tone, baring his teeth.
“Oh please, don’t be a hero,” Discord scoffed.
“Is that a dragon?” Rarity asked at the same time as Discord’s scoff, her eyes going wide with sparks. “Such a beautiful creature! I would just love to have one!”
Spike, golden tickets still in hand, turned to Rarity. “Were this any other situation, I’d be falling over my feet to help you with that little problem.” He thrust an arm forth, swinging the limb before jerking his wrist, sending the golden ticket straight for Rarity. The ticket struck true.
Rarity’s mouth opened and her eyes narrowed as the damage truly hit home in her mind. A curl of purple hair fell to the dirt. “You despicable mo-”
“And you!” Spike yelled, spinning around and repeated the throw to Discord, who simply stood there rolling his eyes. The ticket, flying true and fast like an arrow, nicked Discord’s goatee, shaving it completely off.
“What,” Discord intoned.
“I WILL DESTROY YOU!’ Rarity snarled, a pulse of magic swirling about her horn. “YOU DISGUSTING CRETIN!”
“Yeah, I thought you’d be smart enough not to do that,” Discord offered, his goatee already having regrown. “This doesn't help.”
“Uh... I didn’t think that through,” Spike muttered, staring at Rarity.
“This is the part where your expression deadpans and you say ‘oh crap’,” Discord said in a helpful tone.
A beam a darkness shot forth from Rarity, making a beeline for Spike. The beam undulated and spun like a confined whirlpool. Spike just stood there, his eyes wide, his limbs as frozen in place as that nearby sperm whale ice sculpture was.
“No, no, no, NO!” Twilight cried, barreling at Spike. She rammed him with her shoulder, sending Spike tumbling across the ground just as the beam of pure darkness collided where Spike should have been standing, where Twilight now stood. Where the beam hit Twilight, the flesh beneath her fur seared and sizzled like frying eggs, accompanied by the screams of Twilight. The sizzling evolved into a packing, crunching sound of ice and snow as the burn turned into ice, encasing Twilight’s midsection.
Twilight choked, her already dry throat going beyond hoarse from her shrieks. Her body went numb; every feeling from the pain in her throat to the push of gravity on her whole body died, turning into a dull, cold throb. Even her eyesight was encrusted with tendrils of whipping blackness as the ice clawed up her neck. A part of her knew it to be her end; frozen ponies die, simple as that. There’s no such antifreeze-like substance in an equine’s body to prevent their blood from forming ice crystal which then expand and would explode her veins, capillaries, and arteries.
“Great, I’m obligated by narrativium to save both of you – preferably with a random teleport,” Discord muttered, snapping his fingers. As Twilight’s vision went into the black of perceived death, she saw Spike running up to her, his arms outstretched.
Her vision black, the last thing she heard was an unfamiliar voice cooing to her from the darkness. “Ich bin der Krähenkönig. Mein Reich ist öd und leer. Wir warum sieben Brüder... mit einem Schwesterlein.”
