Marks of Harmony: ReMastered

Chapters

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

Part 1

Marks of Harmony: ReMastered
Part 1

Long shadows were cast in a dissonantly angular slant to the surrounding architecture through the impressive arches of Canterlot Castle as the brilliant orange light of Celestia’s day faded below distant mountains. And just before all consuming darkness would have taken the world, Luna lit her own horn, raising the moon to it’s proper place in the sky. The light of the world changed from the harsh orange of a dying sunset to the soft, angelic glow of a crescent moon. Luna nodded her head with satisfaction with the stars’ arrangement and promptly let off her magic guiding the moon, assured she would glide the course Luna had set for her this evening.

“It should be a calm night for your court tonight, sister dearest,” Celestia strained a weary but all the same pleased smile. “The nobility acquiesced to my requests more readily today.”

“Be cautious, Celestia,” Luna replied, brow furrowing. “They might be plotting some overly complicated bill to sneak past you and are hence buttering you up for favor… That is how the phrase is used correct?”

“More or less,” her elder sister smiled more warmly. “But as far the nobles go, I’m fairly certain that’s exactly what they’re doing. But that doesn’t mean I can’t get what I can out of it for the time being.”

“Fair,” Luna nodded. “Well, have a good reprise at any rate, Celly. We shall attempt to not burn down the kitchens like last month and shall also endeavor to not have our guards treat insubordinate nobles in the traditional manner.”

“Thank you, Lulu,” Celestia answered, her voice having gone back to the weariness from before. Luna considered that her sister did not appreciate the sincerity of her promises, but with a smart nod decided she was merely tired.

“Goodnight, sister,” Luna lilted before turning toward the throne room at a cheery trot. The official commencing of the Night Court would begin shortly, and Luna was not inclined to being fashionably late like Celestia. Ever since returning, Luna had cherished her night dwellers even more than she had as she fell into the waiting magic of Nightmare Moon. She was even coming to consider some of them friends, which aside from making Twilight Sparkle immeasurably happy for her, had rewarded her with pleasing conversations many a night. The mare, Vinyl Scratch, was always a joy when she found time to join the Night Court as were a fair few others.

Of course, she still had her fair share of problems that arose within her domain that demanded her sincere attention and royal authority (she had found that the Royal Canterlot Voice was still acceptable in many of these instances). But it seemed her night dwellers carried themselves with more common sense than what she’d seen of the Day Court. The nonsensical ‘problems’ brought to her sister’s attention… Some of those ponies she doubted she would ever live long enough to fully understand.

The doors to the throne room were opened for her by her faithful Night Guard, and those shadowing her from the darkness slipped in behind her into the waiting, shrouded corners of the hall. But where Luna would normally give them a subtle nod of appreciation for their stealthy movements, she balked. Nopony was in the hall. Even when she arrived at the appointed time for the beginning of the Night Court, there were usually a few ponies awaiting her arrival. Not this night. Not a single soul aside from herself and her guards were present.

“Ah, Your Majesty,” her senior guard, a thestral by the name of Threadwing, greeted her confused steps to her throne. “There is something demanding your full attention.”

“Enough to bar entry to the Night Court of our faithful brothers and sisters of the night?” Luna asked, a touch scathing.

“You may wish to take more drastic actions than that, Your Majesty,” Threadwing answered with a coughing grunt. “This… thing arrived just as the Moon began her course.” A small flick of his azure bat wings brought a junior officer to his side, a secure lockbox swinging from his fanged mouth.

Luna knew the box, and her eyes narrowed at the sight of it. Such was the place she and her sister ordered any and all incoming letters from foreign diplomats be stored for their personal perusal. It saw little use compared to Luna’s days before Nightmare Moon, as foreign diplomats now seemed to prefer journeying to Equestria personally if a matter demanded their attention. Since her return, Luna had only seen it used twice, and only then for trivial inquiries.

That something from a foreign land had arrived that merited cancelling the Night Court was not to be taken lightly. Threadwing produced the box’s key and deftly opened and offered Luna the still sealed letter in one smooth motion. She cautiously took the thin envelope in her magic, prepared for a magical attacked keyed to her aura. None came. Curiosity now mixed with suspicious concern as she flipped the letter to inspect the seal.

And a small gasp escaped her lips even as she put her hoof to her mouth.

“Your Majesty?” Threadwing asked, waiting for an order to action.

“Have a runner ready to wake my sister should this bode ill news,” Luna commanded as she continued to inspect a seal that should not exist before her eyes. There was a slight commotion beside her as Threadwing called said runner to her side. But all of Luna’s attention was upon the letter as she cracked the wax. Still, no arcane assault attempted to strike her down. She pulled the even thinner papyrus paper from the envelope’s confines and unfolded it to a flowing zebrican script.

And it read with all she had expected it would but hoped it would not.

Luna

It is my greatest hope that you have not forgotten me in your long absence, nor the seal which protected this letter. If this letter has successfully reached your hooves at the time intended, Our plan has already been set into motion.

Even as you read this, We have crossed into Equestria from Red Dunes, bearing my greatest gifts. I do not write this to alarm you, though I feel that is quite unavoidable at this juncture. Rather, I write to warn you. I bring with me revolution unstoppable, and if you wish to survive, you will leave Equestria. You and your sister.

Attempting to stop Us will bear you no ripe fruit, but fear not, we will give your precious ponies true Harmony. The Harmony they have deserved since you offered it to them.

As of this writing, the Land of Red Dunes declares war against the House of Sol and the House of Artemis.

The paper slowly flitted to Luna’s hooves as her magic slowly faded. She had not even bothered with reading the signature. She had no need to. There was only one name it could be, no matter how it would defy the natural laws. Luna closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Rather than how she had handled the event before, she would be composed, controlled, and swift with this. It would barely be a mark of note even in the exhaustive historical tomes.

“Threadwing, send your runner to wake our sister,” Luna said, her tone steely with vitalized determination. “And find somepony to alert Prince Armor that his presence is requested at once. You and he shall gather the collective might of the Lunar and Royal Guard immediately.”

“Your Majesty!” her captain sharply saluted before the throne room became a bustle of Night Guard activity.

“Come quietly, Aurora,” Luna whispered to herself in the din. “I shall not be able to stay my sister’s hoof a second time.”

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Equestria was a large nation, respected for it’s elite Guard but still pacifist approach; and valued by many nations for the many magical academies that consistently fed the world the most talented mages and alchemists the world over. It was a prosperous place for pony and non-pony alike, and the Royal Sisters encouraged travel to and from their domain.

Yet for all her glory and prosperity, Equestria did still play host to vicious and supposedly uninhabitable wilderness. But on the northern border between Equestria and the Griffon Kingdom was a place many would only laugh if told there was indeed a small town established in its midst. But Caedmon did exist, nestled in a rare, fertile valley that had somehow not been blasted into ruin during the War of the Sun and Moon.

Caedmon was ostensibly a traveler’s town: a place for the adventurous or those cursed with insatiable wanderlust to rest as they entered or left the Equestrian nation. For those who lived in its rather drab homes and shops however, none would argue it was a hub for those trying to escape justice in their homeland. Not to mention the veritable plethora of creatures that went bump in the night. Some went as quickly as they came, while others… well, most of Caedmon’s residents took it as a strange point of pride that most of them were descended from some of the world’s nastiest stock.

“Not that we’d ever want to be like them,” the resident pegasus book-keep mumbled as a traveler left his small store (full of contraband books from around the world). The stories of their ancestors were fun for those passing through and good for keeping away the unscrupulous, but all the same, Inky Jay was as much a necromancer as the griffon king. A small, amused sigh escaped him as he began re-shelving the books the pony had been ‘interested in’. There were only a few (zebrican books banned from Equestria aeons ago), and Inky was lounging in his counter chair again after only a few minutes.

He slowly closed his eyes and leaned back. Mornings were always a busy time, what with wanderers taking the day early to continue onward to more foreign lands, and he was glad to have made it to the calmer afternoon. “Hey now,” a musically flitting voice whispered in his ears as smooth hooves began slowly massaging his shoulders, “there’s no reason to be such a drama queen. I heard them all from the back, and it wasn’t that bad.”

“I woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Inky said, leaning into the massage.

“Yeah, I know. It was mine,” the voice answered before playfully nibbling his ear with pointed fangs. He jolted at the contact, a small, filly-like squeak escaping him as he turned around. The wonderful massage ended, replaced with giggling from the Changeling mare readjusting her wings. “I had half a mind to push you off,” she managed between snickers.

“That would’ve made it all better, obviously,” Inky said with a half-roll of his eyes and swatted at her with a wing.”

“I still say you should learn to cuddle better, babe,” she said with a playful wink. “Wouldn’t have these problems if you did, now would we?”

“Gleam…” he sighed, exasperated. “I’m asleep.”

“Uh huh,” she said simply, taking her seat at the second of the small store’s two counters. “Sounds like a stallion problem to me, sweetie.” She giggled again. “Okay, how about we try to work on keeping your wings to yourself first, hm?”

“You really do enjoy asking the impossible out of me don’t you?” he smiled in reply, her presence (and massage) having removed much of his irritation from the morning.

“Only because you try so much harder when it’s ‘impossible’,” she quipped back, setting about to begin repairing some of the more tattered books they’d received in trade that morning. “Oh! Would you find me that copy of Machinations of Stone? I’ve been meaning to repair the water damage on the back cover for ages.”

“The griffon translation?” Inky asked, making a small hop from his chair and gently flying to one of their upper shelves.

“The dragon one, sweetie,” she answered. Inky nodded to nopony in particular and moved through the maze of shelves with an expertise that only a foal and adulthood of experience could give, finding the book in question with ease.

“My lady,” he swung into a mid-air bow, presenting the book to Gleam with a small peck on her horn. “Somepony’s thinking ahead to the Migration.”

“I just figure the last thing we need is a dragon angry about the state of one of their books and burning the place down,” Gleam shrugged.

“Point,” Inky nodded. “You have the ledger by the way? I’m gonna go ahead and start to close up for the day.”

“So early?” Gleam asked curiously. “I mean, sure, we had the morning insanity but…”

“Gleam lovely,” Inky chuckled, settling onto his hooves and brushing a hoof through her mane and tilting her head to look in his eyes. “It’s the stallion, not the mare who’s supposed to forget anniverseries.” She blinked once, a blank stare settling into her vivid orange eyes. Then twice. And three times before Inky just sighed and leaned in for a deep kiss. She shook in surprise, but the moment passed, and she returned the kiss with as much passion and wrapping her hooves around the back of his head.

They pulled away after Inky needed to breathe again. “Oh,” Gleam said with a cute nuzzle. “Something tells me my problem-ridden stallion has plans then.”

“As a hopeless romantic, I resent your doubt,” Inky played, with a wink. “Yes, I do indeed have plans. So, not to ruin the moment, but I do kinda need the ledger to close us down for the day.”

“Moment ruined,” she replied, though her heavily lidded eyes said otherwise. “Why don’t you ask a mare nicely and with another kiss?”

“Payment I am happy to give,” Inky said, leaning forward.

But his lips never met hers. An almighty crash shook the earth all around. The glass in the front windows exploded in all directions, books were shaken from their shelves, and an ear-piercing magical whine singed the very air. Inky fell backward, spraining a wing and dragging a squealing Gleam to the ground with him. And it was not a single moment either. The world seemed to be falling apart around them, falling rocks from higher in the valley cracked and split, adding their shuddering noise and violent collapse to the reverberating earth and screaming air.

And just as Gleam’s first tears began to wet Inky’s chest from the unbearable chaos of it all, the world erupted with a sickly tint of pink and everything became still. They both remained paralyzingly still in the immediate aftermath, Inky tightening his grip on Gleam even as she continued to silently cry from the assault on her far more sensitive ears. But when nothing seemed to return to normal, Inky felt it safe to slowly stroke Gleam’s mane and hush for her.

“My ears… Sun and Moon, my ears…” she whimpered, barely audible. “I’m going to kill whoever did that…”

“You might have the training for it,” Inky hushedly answered, slowly standing them both up, “but I wouldn’t mess with anypony with that kind of magic. I’m just glad you’re ears aren’t bleeding.”

“Unghhhh…” she groaned, falling back to her stomach and clenching both down with her hooves. “I feel like they should be.” Inky winced, his own ears moving from numb to pain pierced.

“I’m gonna take a peek outside,” he said, blinking away tears as his eyes tried to adjust to the pink hue coating everything now.

“Like Tartarus you are!” a young stallion’s voice penetrated the room like dragon’s roar. Both Inky and Gleam recoiled from the noise, Gleam adding a changeling hiss of anger to match. “You two aight?” the stallion went on, now at a whisper after making his way through the shop’s royally disarrayed shelves. “Sorry, Gleam,” he apologized sheepishly after catching sight of her crouching on the floor, hooves-over-ears.

“So we can’t see what the hell just happened, but your beige arse can, Spit?” Inky fumed at the sandy colt.

“I got caught outside thank you,” Spit answered importantly. “But thing is, I buckin’ saw what did all that. Nopony with good sense should be outside right now.”

“Spit, you’d better tell me who just tried to kill us before I add you to the list,” Gleam hissed, clambering to her hooves and flicking a stray strand of mane out of her face.

“I mean, she’s hot Inks, but how you live with an ousted changeling guard…” Spits added, detached before seeming to catch the glare in both Gleam and Inky’s eyes. “Oh, uh, yeah,” he coughed. “It’s um… Buck it. It’s a metal airship. Thought it crashed the way it came and landed outside town like it owned the place, then magicked up some pink shield around the valley.”

“Okay, let me ask again,” Inky growled, rubbing his forehead into a hoof. “And let’s have you answer without spouting off a load of chicken -”

“I ain’t lyin’!” Spit pleaded. “I dunno what’s goin’ on anymore than you two!”

“Inky, love,” Gleam said slowly, maneuvering around fallen books to stand beside him and look into Spit’s eyes, “I don’t think he’s lying…”

“Then where the bucking blazes did it - !”

“CITIZENS OF CAEDMON! REJOICE!” the magic-garbled words exploded through the air. “YOUR TOWN HAS BEEN CHOSEN TO MARK THE FALL OF THE ROYAL SISTERS AND BEAR THE FLAG OF A NEW AGE! AGAIN I SAY…”

Inky, Gleam, and Spit all eyed one another as the first voice was cut off and another, softer voice took it’s place. “Rejoice, and be the first to be reborn.”

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Twilight Sparkle carefully strolled through her new castle’s library, eyes on the shelves and magic around a plain cardboard box. Spike had joined her in the task at hoof, but was presently on the other side of the library. Without Golden Oaks serving as Ponyville’s public library, Twilight had promptly opened the castle’s own to the Ponyville populace. This of course meant it was not simply a personal, oversized bookshelf for her own pleasure and needed to be maintained like Golden Oaks had.

The libraries from all over Equestria would be swapping hundreds of their books with one another in a few weeks, and Twilight saw it as the perfect opportunity to properly integrate her castle (whose name she still hadn’t decided on despite Rarity’s many and varied suggestions) into the system. Thus, she needed copies of books that were both sufficiently numerous on her own shelves that she could easily part with a fair few but that also might be harder to come by in other regions of Equestria.

It was tiresome and tedious and filled with entirely too much guesswork for her liking, but such was a necessary evil in managing a public service. She could at least say it wasn’t a stressful job. “Twi, what’re you thinking about the advanced spell books?!” Spike hollered from across the library, his voice ringing off the crystal walls.

“Just be sure to leave at least one of each!” Twilight yelled back, not taking her eyes off the painfully large fiction section. “And don’t take a volume one if we don’t have more than one of any of the other volumes!”

“Right-o,” Spike answered. Twilight was in the process of both nodding and removing a massive chunk of the fiction section for reorganization sorting when a light knock echoed on the open door.

“Ma’am?” one of her two Royal Guards (by Princess Celestia’s insistence) asked from the entryway. “Permission to enter?”

“Of course,” Twilight said, waving him inside. “Something wrong?”

“Depends, Ma’am,” he answered, offering her the rolled morning newspaper from under his wing. “Post finally got around town, Ma’am.” Twilight’s brows furrowed as she took the paper in her magic, gently setting her book box down and unfurling the pages. She couldn’t even read the text glaring at her from the front page before she had to blink and shake her head at it’s sheer size. ROYAL AND NIGHT GUARD PERFORM FULL, ARMED MUSTER IN CANTERLOT.

“We were ordered to remain at our posts, Ma’am,” her Guard answered quickly when Twilight’s first reaction was to dart her eyes at the very pony who had delivered the paper.

“And?” she went on, expecting more. “Is this some kind of training exercise, or should I be worried?”

“I’d say concerned, Ma’am,” her Guard answered stoutly. “An en masse muster isn’t out of the ordinary to check our preparedness, but there is usually a forewarning from our COs.”

“Thank you for letting me know as soon as this was delivered,” Twilight nodded, and the Guard took note of her clear intention for need of privacy, and smartly left for his post outside the castle door. Twilight had her nose buried in the article, searching for any clues as to why the princesses would do something so drastic without any apparent need. The griffons in particular wouldn’t take kindly to a mass gathering of one of the most elite combat forces in the world.

The beginning of the article was the usual blather about the history and great feats of the Guard that typically preceded any article about them, but when Twilight finally reached the report of the actual event, the article was nearly over. The training areas for both Guards and roads leading to them have been a bustle of noise ever since last night when the call was sent out, and it is expected to stay that way well into tomorrow afternoon. We attempted to get more information on the details of the muster, but were met either by refusals or vague information. Until an official statement from the princess’ themselves, all we can say so far is this is not a drill, and that some kind of march is in the works. No word yet from any of the foreign embassies on their stance to the unfolding display of the Guard. The Equine Informer will keep you up-to-date as events carry on with special pamphlet issues.

“Are we gonna have to deal with a crying Pinkie from party stocks dropping or blitzy Dash ‘cause there’s a race she can go to that’s a town over?” Spike drawled, meandering over to where Twilight was giving the newspaper her best disapproving glare.

“Spike, hold still,” she answered, hard-edged. She placed a single hoof on his head and with a sharp crack and warped them both to her bedroom. “Two letters, stat,” she continued while Spike held his head from dizziness. “One to Princess Celestia and one to Shiny. Actually, scratch that.” She zipped back over to where Spike was clearing a space on her desk and snatched a quill and one of the pages of parchment. “You write to the princess. Ask her why she called the Guard together. You know, the professional tone.”

“I hate the professional tone,” Spike groaned, not quite under his breath. “I have to keep everything so… neat.” Twilight ignored the slight, instead beginning a rapid scribble to her brother. There wasn’t really much for her to ask or say, so as her luck would have it, just as she was putting the finishing period on her last sentence, Spike belched a massive gush of green fire. His letter was unintentionally incinerated, and Twilight put a nice, ungainly hole through her own.

She was about grumble and begin stomping over to her desk to keep from outright screaming, but it was all diffused by the three letters Spike held out to her. “Three?” she asked, recognizing Princess Celestia’s seal and the Imperial seal Shining used now, but not the third mark. Well, more or less because it was unmarked all together.

“Yeah, it was weird,” Spike replied, curiously eyeing the third scroll. “It came up with the other two, but it was like I almost choked on it at first…”

“Well, let’s see the princess’s first,” Twilight sighed, unwrapping the parchment.

Dearest Twilight, I’m sure by now that you and most everypony across Equestria has heard the news that myself and Luna have gathered the full might of our Guards together here in Canterlot. I know you well, Twilight, and I implore you not to worry over this. No doubt, everypony and their mother will make a great fuss over the whole situation, but I want you to keep a level head.

Nothing is too greatly amiss. Luna merely received a letter of war from a desert rogue last night, and we have decided to send our Guard to the border to split to and safeguard the border towns just as a precaution. It is nothing to worry over, and I hope you don’t find it distracting from your other studies.

Love,
Celestia

“Well that’s bold,” Twilight wondered aloud. “Who declares war on the Princess of the Sun and Princess of the Moon so willy-nilly?”

“Somepony who’s got a deathwish,” Spike smirked. “That’s not seriously what happened is it?”

“The princess said Luna got the letter last night,” Twilight repeated the letter, still not quite believing the gall of whomever had written it. “That’s… that seems a bit too serious to just be a stupid prank.”

“The princess’ obviously don’t think it was a prank,” Spike said, waving Shining’s letter. Twilight nodded in still baffled agreement, opening her brother’s letter. Knowing him, there’d be less helpful info about what the Guard was really doing, but she could at least tell if he was genuinely worried or more just annoyed.

Little Sis, I’m… yeah, you’ve heard already. Guard’s gettin’ up and movin’ out as they say. Somepony decided it’d be smart to up and challenge Equestria, and a face full of Guard is what they’re gonna get.

Can’t tell ya where I’m leadin’ all of ‘em off to and had to tell everypony to send their last letters home for a while. Hopefully this is all over pretty soon, an’ we can get together when I get back and laugh and talk about where I went. Love ya, little Sis.

Shining

“Good, bad?” Spike asked when Twilight’s eyes came off the page.

“I’m… I don’t know…” Twilight murmured, scanning the quick letter again. “He doesn’t want to go, that much I can tell, but I can’t figure out why. Uuuughhh! Just let me see that third one and hope it tells me enough so I don’t end up having to write a letter to the princess.” She snatched the third letter from Spike’s claw with a tug of magic and unfurled it.

And there was not a word printed on it.

It was instead filled with a single image. A painting. A very rough painting created by somepony with clear skill but improper tools. It was streaked, not the exact tint, and mildly misshapen: but there was no denying somepony had sent her a blazing image of her own cutie mark.

Author's Note

So, for those of you from way back when I, Inky Jay, first joined the site, you may recognize this story as my first. Or, well, a revamped, more interesting and well developed version of my first. I can make no promises about update schedules and the like, but I can promise this will not be going on hiatus like many of my others... *le sigh*

Also, for those curious, the Inky Jay character here is most definitely not a self insert, just a use of the first OC name I came up with.

Part 2

Marks of Harmony: ReMastered
Part 2

Shining Armor tugged the curtain of his train car window closed, exerting careful control to keep from ripping it off the mounting in his foul mood. He was more than familiar with how and what attracted throngs of reporters and paparazzi than most ponies. After all, anypony to whom a Princess of Equestria showed any kind of interest (romantic or otherwise) was a prime target for the media types. But that aside, Shining was better accustomed to shielding his Princess of Love from them as opposed to now, where he was the center of attention instead.

Around him, the best of Equestria’s best, the Crystal VanGuard, kept their curtains open, warily eyeing any of the ponies outside. “Sir,” his lieutenant, Hidden Geode, addressed him. “We received a missive just now from Captain… er, pardon, General Threadwing.” A stunned expression crossed Shining’s face as Hidden carried on. “Both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna have declared the Guard to be in war status and all titles altered thereof. General.”

“What in Tartarus… thanks, Lieutenant,” Shining nodded, still wrapping his head around the decree. The Guard hadn’t been under war conditions since the War of the Sun and Moon despite the many, many creatures and threats that had sprung up under Shining’s command alone. His eyes narrowed. No simple desert rogue could warrant this much of a response, and Shining suddenly had a squirming in his gut he was about to find out more exactly what the Guard was up against when he made it inside the castle.

The train’s already crawling pace began to slow even further, and Shining and the other ponies of the VanGuard took this to mean they were pulling into the station, and thusly began gathering their supplies. Such was the nature of the VanGuard that by the time the doors were hauled open by one of Threadwing’s ponies, all of Shining’s were in rank and file, eyes locked to the path the Night Guard had cleared through the clamoring masses.

It was a cacophony, walking between crowds that were more than likely becoming more scared than confused, but Shining allowed himself a small glow of pride that none of his VanGuard ever flinched or glanced to the side. Threadwing was at the entrance of Canterlot Castle with even more of the Night Guard, and Shining and the rest of the crystal ponies were ushered inside wordlessly. Well, wordlessly until the massive doors of the castle boomed shut behind them.

“Ho, Shining Armor!” Threadwing hollered nearly as loud as the closing doors before tightly embracing Shining.

He returned the brotherly hug with a small chuckle of his own. “Thread,” he said, giving the older stallion a light punch to the shoulder. “You’re pretty cheery for what’s going on.”

“And why wouldn’t I be?!” Threadwing pronounced with an armored smack to his chest. “This is the first campaign of the reinstated Night Guard, and I of all ponies get to be the one to lead them!”

“You could be killed,” Shining shrugged, his mood not helping his sense of morbidity.

“Well, better for a pony of the Guard to die protecting Princess and nation than die of old age,” Threadwing replied.

“If you say so,” Shining said. “I personally have a wife I’d like to see after this mess is sorted out.”

“Can’t fault you there,” Threadwing answered; then, turning his attention to Shining’s ponies, bellowed, “VanGuard, attention!” The lot of them fluidly snapped to the position Threadwing had ordered, and the thestral appeared a touch jealous to Shining. “Okay, here we go. I sent a message to General Armor here, explaining the Guards have been shifted to war time organization by order of the princesses. He probably didn’t get a chance to tell you, so I am. You’ll find a full list of changes in the barracks you’re being provided, and I’ll have one of my ponies take you there. My advice, don’t get settled. We’re expecting marching orders from the Mares Upstairs any day now.” He shifted his attention his attention back to Shining with a questioning brow.

“Dismissed!” Shining ordered the VanGuard, and while they eased from being at attention, remained almost scarily alert. A sharp nod from Threadwing later, and they were on their way to the barracks.

“Damn, command has made me a fat softy,” Threadwing groused to the empty halls as he and Shining began making their way to the throne room. “And the annoying thing is, I can remember when I used to be like those… bucking command lifestyle…”

“Thread…” Shining ventured. “What’s goin’ on? You weren’t ever anti-social or anything like my sis, but you’ve never been chatty either.”

“Tartarus if I know,” Threadwing said. “Only thing I’ve gotten that you haven’t is seeing how wound up the princesses are over that damn letter.”

“There was a letter?” Shining asked.

“Mm,” his thestral grunted. “No envoy. Just a piece of paper. But whatever it said specifically… I’ve never seen Princess Luna so hard edged.”

“The fury you know’s there but don’t ever want to see yourself,” Shining mumbled, quoting Cadence’s description of Celestia when the Princess of the Sun was angry.

“That’s an understatement, brother,” Threadwing replied as they came to the throne room’s entrance, protected by six Royal and six Night Guard. “Let’s try not to be incinerated, shall we?”

“My move again then?” Shining sighed, and when Threadwing nodded, he pushed open the door.

______________________________________________________________________________

“Goodness, Luna, you’d think nice things like half-decent coffee would last at least a few days before it all became this black mud,” Celestia fussed as she entered their little lounge just off the throne room, faithful mug clasped in magical aura.

“It won’t be any better once we begin the march to Caedmon,” Luna replied, her attempt at snark completely obscured by her grim tone.

“Little sister,” Celestia answered her softly. “She will not have the chance to once again take so much from us. That I promise.”

“No, she will merely be yet another reminder of my many failures and another part of my past destroyed,” Luna hissed through gritted teeth.

“Oh no, missy,” Celestia scolded, taking a moment to down the rest of her so-called coffee in a single, flinchingly bitter gulp, “you are not, I repeat not, going to start feeling sorry for yourself and getting so moody with me.”

“Oh, and what would you know of how this feels?” Luna very nearly yelled. “Where is the glorious legacy wherein I might take solace?”

“Sunset Shimmer, amongst other things I’m not going to mention.” Celestia said, voice hard with reproach. “Now, Lulu, if you would kindly pull your head out of your own plot, I came to tell you Shining Armor’s train just pulled in. He will be here very shortly.”

“Sister… I… apologies,” Luna’s voice shook. “I’m tired and let my thoughts wander to selfish places.”

“More like you have a lack of coffee, unless you can call that stuff they’re issuing the Guard coffee,” Celestia allowed a light smile. “Sleep is for the weak afterall. But, in all sincerity little sister, I understand.” She squeezed Luna’s shoulder briefly. “Don’t worry, we should have plenty to complain about in a few weeks.”

“Encouraging,” Luna managed a smirk. “It is just… I cannot figure where I erred all those centuries ago.” She thrust up a hoof, warding Celestia off. “And before you say it, I am well aware I never shall find what I seek. But I cannot help but try for my own sanity.”

“Just make sure your way of coping isn’t the thing that’s actually driving you mad,” Celestia cautioned, slowly pushing away Luna’s raised hoof.

“Celly?” Luna asked, her head tilting ever so slightly as she eyed Celestia. “Does my little Aurora’s return not worry you at all?”

Celestia repressed the flinch in her face at Luna’s affectionate reference to the impossibility challenging them at the border, hoping her sister wouldn’t struggle with a confrontation if Aurora Streak demanded there be one. “It’s not that I don’t worry, Lulu,” Celestia sighed, closing her eyes for a brief spell. “I just worry more about what will happen to Equestria with us at her very edge.”

“Celestia,” Luna said, the tables now flipped with her younger sister’s reproving tone. “Both Cadence and Twilight Sparkle are more than capable of caring for our little ponies. I would expect more faith in them from you.”

“I have the utmost trust in those two,” Celestia replied, choosing to take a seat next to Luna rather than stand as she had been. “I just wish we weren’t always forced to test that trust, nevermind their ability. They are both so young…”

“Fear not, sister dearest,” Luna said with a comforting nod and playful smile. “You seem to be forgetting two other young fillies who faced the impossible odds of an untamed Equestria and succeeded quite well.”

“Seems we’ve been drowning ourselves in our own worries in our old age,” Celestia said, her own smile returning at the sight of Luna’s lifted spirits. “Shall we try to recover some of our dignity and get to the business at hoof?”

“She will be stronger Celestia,” Luna said, not even skipping a beat. “It will not be as simple as marching the Guard to her doorstep and demanding surrender.”

“Unfortunately not,” Celestia nodded with a provoking tap of her hoof. “Nor can we be sure she will be alone. Her letter at least implies she is prepared to face the Guard in open battle.”

“I was thinking, sister,” Luna hesitated, earning a wary glare from Celestia, “we cannot make any firm decisions without knowing who or what she is most fueled to harm. Threadwing -”

“And are you prepared to divulge all of what we know Aurora is willing to do just for the sake of a scouting party?” Celestia inserted with a sharp pleading. “I will not burden Shining Armor with that knowledge, not after seeing poor Nightwash lose his mind to what he’d seen.”

“Keeping things from them is not exactly intelligent either, Celly,” Luna replied with a notable dryness.

“A compromise then?” Celestia asked with a note of hopefulness. “We will of course need to explain the nature of their foe, but I am inclined to keep the details unless they insist.”

Luna gave pause, eyes narrow, but gave a terse nod in the end. “Aurora may not give us a choice,” she said, standing and striding out into the throne room; and leaving Celestia to hope no other ponies would ever have to know the extent to which a pony could descend into into the blackness that was beyond even Luna’s control.

______________________________________________________________________________

The throne room looked much as it always had, save for the large mirror-like table standing in its center and the princesses appearing less like the ponies he had devoted his life to guarding and more like the mythic, armor clad versions of themselves the tales of the War of the Sun and Moon recounted. Princess Luna, in particular, made Shining squirm under his skin with how closely she resembled Nightmare Moon in full plate. And only adding to the unorthodox atmosphere was the presence of none other than Discord.

“Princess Celestia,” Shining spoke clearly, just under a shout, as he came to swift attention.

“Princess Luna,” Threadwing said in kind.

“At ease, the both of you,” Luna ordered them with a wave of her silver armored hoof. “Around the table, if you would.” The pair of captains-become-generals took their places opposite their respective princess, while Discord merely lazily hung in the air directly above the table. Shining eyed him with a wary glare, having not quite forgiven the draconequus for his involvement with Tirek; but Discord had his attention focused on Celestia.

“Princess Luna, permission to speak?” Threadwing asked as Celestia moved one of many crystal totems from beside her throne to the table.

“You need not have asked,” Luna nodded.

“Why is the Lord of Chaos floating over my head and not trying to turn my mane into gum?” Threadwing asked with just enough sardonic restraint to still be within the bounds of decorum.

“To answer your question, General,” Discord sneered. “Dearest Celestia asked me to be here, and I must confess, my curiosity is getting the better of me.”

“We, that is my sister and I, wished to explain the situation only once to the relevant parties,” Luna offered her answer to Threadwing.

“It is of the utmost importance we move both quickly and carefully,” Princess Celestia added as she imbued the crystal with her magic until it cast a three dimensional map over a hinter portion of Equestria. Nearer the desert from Shining’s observation of the rock color. “This is a map of the border town Caedmon and the surrounding valley three days ago,” she continued. “A small flicker of magic later, and the map shifted, a sickly pink half sphere of some kind of magic enveloping the entire valley. “This is from two days ago.”

“It’s pretty big if I’m judging the terrain around it right,” Shining said, squinting at the map. “A magical barrier that size would cause ripples across Equestria. I would know. So why haven’t I or any other unicorns noticed anything?”

“Because, General Armor,” Luna elaborated, “it is highly likely the magic is not being cast by a unicorn at all.”

“Even a gemstone machine would produce some kind of effect,” Discord scoffed. “Trick of the eyes, perhaps?”

“No,” Princess Celestia said stoutly. “Everyone, we believe this to be the work of Aurora Streak, a unicorn who, by all rights, ought to have died several centuries ago.”

“Immortality isn’t all that difficult to come by, Celestia,” Discord shrugged, then casting a smirk to Shining, added, “and that’s something I would know.”

“Streak… I know the name,” Threadwing mused. “She…”

“Aurora was - is - from the old thestral city Cornucopia,” Luna said solemnly. “Your hometown, General.”

“What did she do to earn banishment? What are we walking into here?” Shining asked, still analyzing the map. Under normal circumstances, the valley would be the deathtrap all valleys were famous for being. The only problem with this one so happened to be that Shining guessed the back end of it reached into the Griffon Kingdom, ruling out any way to approach it from all directions. It would easy for him to set up pegasi camps on the surrounding plateau, but the sides sloped easily enough that a night-time ambush wouldn’t be out of the question for his opposition.

“Luna?” Princess Celestia deferred to her younger sister, earning a curious, raised brow from both Threadwing and Shining and a chin scratch from Discord.

“Aurora was a prodigy, even in a city where unicorns were as rare as thestrals were plentiful,” Luna began, taking a deep breath. “I sensed her on a visit, met her, and immediately implored her parents to let me take her back to Canterlot to be properly trained under my care. She was quite like your sister, General Armor, with how quickly she mastered subjects even scholars would spend hours studying.

“But, where Twilight Sparkle is quite content to theorize extensively and practice all the magical arts, my little Aurora devoted herself to becoming a master of the foreign and obscure. By the time she was fifteen years of age, I had allotted her a fair deal of money from the Royal Treasury to run her own lab back in Cornucopia. I should have kept a closer watch on her…” Luna trailed off, and Shining felt his skin itching awkwardly beneath his coat at the site of the princess’ eyes moistening with tears.

“She hid her activities from us for four years before I became suspicious and had Commander Nightwash raid the place,” Celestia inserted quickly, giving Luna a chance to surreptitiously wipe away the hints of tears. “In those years, Aurora Streak had become obsessed with some of the most perverted magic, some even of her own design. She is a master necromancer, changeling magic specialist, and was even beginning work on artificiating the Elements of Harmony.”

“The Hallowed Arts Building!” Threadwing burst out. “That’s an old mage’s lab?! Tartarus! And here I’d always thought it was just a plague memorial.”

“Aurora quietly abducted the poor and destitute for several years for use in her experiments,” Luna said with a markedly forced hardness. “She was making them ‘useful’ according to her own logic.”

“Luna and I covered up her actions, compensated the families for their loss, and blamed the deaths on a barely contained plague,” Celestia explained. “I would have executed her then and there, but Luna stayed my hoof. She was banished to the desert instead, where she would have chance enough to think on and repent of her atrocities before either the griffons rescued her or she passed on.”

“When we heard no word from the griffons of finding a half-dead unicorn in the wastelands, I assumed her gone,” Luna said.

“She sounds like a quintessential madmare,” Discord hummed. “They’re the easiest to play with. I assure you, princesses, between the Generals and myself, we shall have apprehended or destroyed this intruder and rescued the little town. But… ahm, do tell what has you so convinced it is this Aurora character?” He glanced toward the projected map and flicked a flat palm at it. “Not exactly much to go on with that.”

“Discord,” Celestia said calmly with a slow blink. “I appreciate your desire to reclaim our confidence, but I called you here to implore you to stay away from the conflict, not join it.” Discord crossed his arms and eyed the princess with a disbelieving look, and Shining Armor was pretty sure he enlongated his arms to add to the effect. “Aurora does not know of you. If you were to appear, she would see you as a challenge and be less inclined to make mistakes in maneuvering against us. If we exploit her arrogance in her own abilities, this will be over much more swiftly.”

“As for how we can be mostly certain it is indeed my old student,” Luna continued, “as you, Threadwing, have shown, nopony remembers her name. The letter of war was signed to her, and I remember the letters she would send me well enough to recognize her style.”

“I take it she’s no warlock though, Your Majesty?” Threadwing asked. “A necro-manic warlock is gonna require a whole different approach if that’s the case.”

“We know,” Luna nodded. “We must learn what she has become in the past six hundred years before committing to any sort of action. General Threadwing, you and your finest scouts shall be joining your princess on the ahead team.”

“Shining Armor,” Celestia stated, “you and I shall take the bulk of the Guard on march to the border.” She turned to Discord with both an amused and sad smile. “Discord, in our absence, we shall be entrusting Cadence and Twilight as well as yourself with the protection of Equestria. Behaving will go a considerable distance in improving the trust you lost.”

“I understand,” Discord tapped a claw and talon together. “And can’t blame you really.”

“That’s settled then,” Luna said firmly. “Shining Armor, stay with our Sister to decide upon how you will want to arrange our encampments around the valley. Threadwing, we shall accompany you in selecting the away team. We shall set off at the Moon rise.”

“Your Majesty,” both Shining and Threadwing saluted before moving to begin their preparations for what was probably going to be the highlight of their military careers.

Author's Note

Inky's back at last. Twelve hour days are killer and the move to upstate NY was pretty harsh too, but I'm back where I belong doin' the things I love. Can't ask for more than that.

This chapter hasn't been read as thoroughly as I'd like in terms of the editing department (again, twelve hour days makes it difficult to coordinate with peeps) so pointing out the small errors is welcome.

And for those interested, the cast will be starting up again on it's every two weeks schedule the week after episode 100.

Cheers!

Part 3

Marks of Harmony: ReMastered
Part 3

“Spit, where did it come from?” Gleam questioned the colt, clasping him in her magic as the voices died in the hum ridden air. “The ship! Which direction did it come from?”

“I… I… I…” he stuttered, struggling inside the changeling magic that held him still.

Inky shook her, trying to keep the level of panic in the room down despite the sinking feeling in his gut getting deeper and deeper. “Gleam! Gleam! Calm down, baby, please…” At the contact, Gleam’s head whipped around and for the briefest moment, Inky saw a glimpse of the old steele of a Hive Guard in her orange eyes. He nearly recoiled, but as quickly as it had surfaced, the old Gleam sank down again. Her gaze softened to one of petrified guilt, and her magic disappeared to let Spit fall in a rather ungainly heap.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry,” she whispered, hiding her face from the two of them.

“This is what I mean, Inks,” Spit muttered, nervously brushing at a leg and trying to contain his visible shaking.

“Gleam, look at me baby,” Inky said quietly, sitting himself on the floor and slowly bringing his breathing to a controlled pace. He flicked a webbed wing in Spit’s direction, hoping he’d catch the drift to keep a watch on the street. A vandalous, overly-enthusiastic pain in the plot Spit might be, but he had enough sense to know when to make himself scarce. “It’s been a record four months since you tried to kill somebody,” Inky tried coaxing Gleam into looking around once Spit was out of earshot. “And you snapped out of it quickly enough…”

“It was Spit though… I know him…” Gleam replied in hushed, heaving breaths.

Inky sucked in a well of air, relieved. She was already talking, the best sign she was already through the shock.

“Ah, but you don’t know what’s outside,” Inky pointed out to her. “None of us do. There was a threat and you reacted to it. No one’s going to blame you for that.”

“I will not be pitied for what I left behind,” she said stoutly. Inky just smiled and kissed her on the cheek. He didn’t have enough hairs in his mane to count the number of times he’d heard her say as much.

“I know, but we have to take care of each other. And sometimes that means -” he was saying until a shiny black hoof touched his lips.

“Shush,” Gleam said with a renewed grin. “Wouldn’t have you any other way.” With a small nibble to his wing she trotted past him to the front of the store . “Sorry for that, Spit,” she said, taking her own position to cautiously peer out the window.

“I’m taking it as a healthy reminder not to futz with you honestly,” Spit shrugged.

“Where did it come from though?” she asked. “Griffon territory or Equestria?”

“Oh, out of the desert for sure,” Spit said with a small grunt as Inky squeezed beside him to get a look through the window. “Why?”

“I wanted to make sure it wasn’t, for some unholy reason, changeling,” Gleam replied. Spit eventually realized Inky wanted a look and adjusted himself and the sight at the other end of town couldn’t have been more alien. Well, Inky was sure it could’ve been, but the supposed ‘airship’ was definitely in the running.

It didn’t glint like he thought it might, the metal being unpolished and dirtied by a sure layer of grit and sand. The entire thing’s true size was impossible to tell from his current angle, but it was easily wider than the single street running through the center of the valley and probably half its length. And the entire thing was shaped like a hoofball with thick pikes coming off its rear end.

“I want to get closer,” Gleam said, her tone laced with wary curiosity.

“What a wonderful role-model you are, love,” Inky half-smirked.

“Oh please, sweetie,” she answered with an eye-role. “Spit is the color of these tan rocks, and he still sticks out like a sore horn.”

“If you’re dead set on getting a better look, at least wait ‘til it’s dark,” Inky said, dropping from the window with Gleam.

“You would be the one to say that,” Spit grumbled behind the two of them, clearly miffed over Gleam’s comment.

“I think I can see a hatch at the base, but no one has left it yet,” Gleam went on.

“Who said it had to have anyone insi-!” Spit started to drawl, but was cut off at the sound of unstable magic bursting from somewhere. It was a deeper, more primal sound than before, but just as Inky recovered from nearly jumping through the roof, the pink tint around everything flickered.

“Recharge,” Spit said when Inky and Gleam both eyed him for theories. “The shield casting the haze is motherbucking huge…” His eyes drifted to the ceiling, as if seeing past it to the barrier above. “Only the prodigies can cast ‘em this big ya know.”

“Closer,” Gleam said with a knowing nod. “And yes, before you say it and make me regret falling for a romantic, we go together.”

“Under the cover the night makes more sense, love,” Inky said.

“Too obvious,” Gleam smiled. “Think like a Changeling and hide in plain sight.”

“Shadows from the valley wall?” Spit guessed, but Inky was already rubbing his temple with a hoof.

“No. That would make too much sense,” he gritted his teeth and tried to keep from looking at his still smiling lover. “We walk right in the middle of street, straight toward it. No hiding. Am I right, love?”

“You know me too well,” Gleam giggled. “Let’s face it. If we were all supposed to die horribly in a mess of fire and falling rock, something that size would have already offed us.”

“Well I for one am not afraid to be called a coward for keeping my plot right here,” Spit said, sitting on the floor a little harder than he intended if Inky judged his wince right.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Inky shook his head and heaved with an amused sigh as he and Gleam cautiously pushed open the door and stepped outside onto the rough gravel road.

“Watch the shop, Spit, thank you,” Gleam said to the stubborn colt before slamming the door shut with a hind hoof kick. And with that, she and Inky set off down the abnormally silent Caedmon thorough road directly toward the resting ovoid.

The walk from one end of the town to another wasn’t terribly long, but the lack of street brawls, shouting vendors, and drunk, stumbling creatures made it feel considerably longer. Every hoofstep to pass another building made the dirt and rock crunch beneath their hooves, and the sound echoed down the street as they continued towards the potentially malicious contraption.

But the ship only kept sending a a pulsing ring of pink magic from somewhere near its top, making the shield around Caedmon shudder and pulse. Far more interesting for Inky was the attention they were getting as they made their way closer to the ship. “We’re being watched again,” he mentioned to Gleam.

“I noticed,” she nodded. “Spit just wants the glamour without any real work.” She paused, noticing some of the more daring colts and fillies sneaking out to watch them pass with something akin to cautious wonder. She smiled back at them, even if it made them slip back behind the house they’d come from. “Whether I meant to or not, I’ve worked hard to be a better mare and make this place a bit more livable, and I’m not going to give that up just because it’s big and made of fancy metal plate and rivets.”

“Wouldn’t dream of trying to stop you,” Inky snickered. “And somepony has to watch your back.”

“Oh ha ha,” she said dryly, turning to give him an unimpressed glare. “Just like a beginner to think he knows enough to hold his own.”

“Who’s mocking who now?” Inky jabbed, ruffling a hoof in her mane. “I’m a fair bit more than a ‘beginner’.”

“Shall we just settle on being completely lost without each other?” she asked, playfully jabbing him in the ribs.

“I think we can,” Inky winked to her. The remainder of their walk was marginally less interesting due to leaving Caedmon behind entirely. Due to the ship’s immense girth, the scale from a distance was all skewed, leaving Inky and Gleam several miles outside Caedmon before coming into the ovoid’s shadow proper.

And still, it remained unresponsive save for the now rhythmic discharge of the magic rings. “If its whole job is to be eerie and make my insides squirm, it’s doing a damn good job,” Gleam hissed and lowered her head as their walk carried them beneath its metal hull.

“The metal part confuses me, but you think it might be some kind of zebra experiment?” Inky posed the question, his concern having waned as opposed to Gleam the longer he’d been close to it. “They tend to like magic they don’t have to watch over…”

“I want to light up to see what kinds of magic are here, but I’d rather not be mutilated by magic activated traps,” Gleam growled.

“Cool head, cool head,” Inky reminded her. “But, no, I wouldn’t advise lighting your horn just yet.” They were incredibly close to the belly apex now, and Inky had his hoof ready to brush away some sand on the hull that seemed to be obscuring some kind of emblem when a sharp metallic grating burst through the silence. He yanked his hoof back, wings flared, and fangs barred in the direction of the ovoid’s lower apex. Gleam was similarly postured, but crouched so low to the ground her belly was scraping the gravel.

Where once had been the same plain plates of metal, there was now a simple square gap to the interior. Inky only briefly caught a glimpse of a rough wooden interior lit by an unknown source before the gap was filled with all manner of creatures. Griffons, ponies, changelings, zebras, and even a few young dragons filed from the opening. They formed two columns and once in place, a lone griffon strode from the opening. He was aged, but in a rough, distinguished way. Far into life, yet still seeming to draw on the energy of his prime.

“May the future forever reward the brave, for they are few,” he said, and Inky immediately recognized the first voice that had carried across Caedmon. His tone was just as old and refined as he looked, almost to an unnatural degree. Gleam must have thought something similar, judging by how she stiffened ever so slightly at his words. “My name is Juno, loyal ambassador for Red Dunes and Lady Streak. Allow me to offer my apologies that our entrance may have caused an undue amount of fright.”

“Red Dunes!?” Gleam scoffed, even as the same realization hit Inky. “Red Dunes is a lifeless desert no one cares two bits about.”

The griffon’s (or rather Juno’s) ensuing smile bordered on the twisted as he said, “Celestia’s Red Dunes, perhaps. We are of the true Red Dunes, and it is far from lifeless I assure you.”

“And the barrier?” Inky questioned with a hard edge.

“I could explain. Truly, I could,” Juno replied with a flare of a claw. “But such queries are best asked of Lady Streak. She explained she was most eager to meet the first to find it within themselves to see Rise.”

Inky and Gleam cast a quick glance to one another. They’d seen and dealt with enough rough types and gangs passing through Caedmon to know the difference between an invitation and ultimatum.

“This Lady Streak… she’s inside?” Gleam asked, slowly snaking back to her normal posture.

“I can take you to her straight away,” Juno beamed.

“Lead on,” Inky said with a motion of his hoof.
______________________________________________________________________________

Twilight knocked her temple with a hoof a few times, trying to beat the dull headache into submission since the painkillers hadn’t done a lick of good yet. As any sane logic could have predicted, hoof knocking only made it worse. Twilight sighed before letting out a groan as she tried to refocus on her evening’s bit of light reading.

She glared into the pages, trying to get the words moving through her brain. But no matter the wilting powers of her twitchy eye, the words refused to engage her or do anything other than sit there and quietly mock her. She tried once more (as she really, really did want to learn about the classical financier responsible for creating the bit), but to no avail.

She snapped the book closed and sentenced it to her bedside table as she crawled from under her sheets, silently grateful for Spike having a room of his own. She could vent and rage all she wanted no matter what hour of the night it was.

A swift spell to make the bed later, and Twilight was sending an orb of light from her horn to the chandelier in her new… well, she called it an office no matter how many times Dash so flatly declared it to be an evil sorcerer’s idea of a funhouse. This headache had been nagging in the back of her skull for a day or so now and since every available magical, medicinal, and herbal remedy had failed her, Twilight was determined to rid herself of it and take back her evening reading time.

She took a deep breath to clear her head and rolled her eyes at the unfortunate irony of the first step to her investigative method. She cleared off a small space of desk, cast some initial analysis spells, laid out a projection gem, and shifted around the spacious room for a spare or relatively clear scroll. She seated herself at her cleared area, but before she could even write a proper title on the scroll, one of her spells lit the gem with a find.

Which, really, made no sense. Her spells were nothing if not thorough. They usually took a good couple minutes before producing any helpful data. Except when she looked to see what was causing the oddity, there was nothing. The gem wasn’t showing the spell had detected anything. “I know I casted correctly,” Twilight murmured to herself, diving into the spell structure just to be sure. And she was right. Nothing was wrong with her construction. “Bucking headache -” she nearly swore in irritation only to have the spell signal her again. She shot her eyes to the gem projection just in time to see a ripple of magical distortion before it became blank once more.

“Oh ho ho ho…” Twilight nearly giggled, rubbing her hooves together as she watched the projection eagerly. “Who’s out there experimenting with a pulse, hm?” And as to validate her enthusiasm, the gem briefly flashed again in what Twilight suspected to be the exact same time interval as before. So by the third time, she was ready, ceasing the connection to her monitoring spell and the gem.

But where Twilight was hoping to see a complex spell matrix befitting of a magician able to master pulsing spells, all she got instead was a shield buffing weave. She stared at it for a good while, despite being a fair bit more familiar with the type than she would like (she loved him, but sweet Celestia could Shiny go on for longer than even she could tolerate on shielding spell buffs and re-casts).

Part of her wanted to ignore it. With the massing of the Guard in Canterlot, there were bound to be a fair few talented unicorns showing off to their peers. And it wasn’t unreasonable that a pulse would cause her a headache, especially if it wasn’t a perfect cast. But something just didn’t feel right about it. And the sensation only increased the longer she stared at the simple matrix. She hated carrying deeper dives into a subject on just a gut feeling (no shortage of chemical explosions into one’s muzzle would do that to a pony)... But she was already up, already in the mood, and the solution to her headache problem had honestly come too quickly for her.

Twilight debated simply returning to her book with a quick shielding spell for her head, but her curiosity succinctly squashed that notion (and after casting the spell for head, which immediately worked wonders), and she rushed for her analysis toolset.

And, well… after laying them out to dive deeper into the pulse’s exact matrix design, her desk was just as full of clutter as before she’d cleared it off. And other ponies wondered why labs were all messy. Self-confident thoughts brushed aside, Twilight attacked the first layer. Her quill immediately began a rapid scratching over parchment.

Already, she could confirm the pulse as some kind of re-buff of a pre-existing spell, but it was more interesting than that. The spell was a shield as it had all the standard repelling effects one would expect, but Twilight was more perplexed by a single inverted layer.

The spell was keeping something in… odd. She attacked the second matrix layer at that point, but where she had been expected some variety of containment spell, there was nothing.

Nothing at all.

Her tools told her there were seven levels of the matrix below the second, but at each analytical level, there was only more nothing. And yet, the first layer was diverting cast energy somewhere. It had to. Without a prepared place for the directed magic to accomplish a task… “You would get nothing but a pad of....” Twilight let herself trail off as her ears dropped behind her head. Very slowly, every so slowly, she moved away from her desk, careful to never take an eye off the apparent matrix void.

She reached to her side, feeling over the nearby bookshelf with a hoof until she felt the spine she was searching for. Magic levitated it out, and Twilight cracked it open, wishing the dry pages wouldn’t crack so ominously. She found the entry, and in the face of the elder, more thorough research, she could only wonder why Princess Celestia had insisted it was only a ‘training muster’.

An early morning trip to Canterlot was in order it would seem. Twilight mindlessly pulled away the spells powering her equipment and the chandelier, wondering just how she could question the princess with something other than, “How bad is it really?”