Civil Distinction

by SpitFlame

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Luna, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Mystery, Dark, King Sombra, Adventure, Princess Celestia, Crossover, Death, Main 6
Length: 151349

Sombra's magic is slowly consuming all of Equestria, and the ponies need the help of the most unwilling human to survive. It is for his own sake as well.

The disingenuous scheme planned against both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna was finally set to rest, or so all thought. After two years, a revelation soon surfaces; and a threat, dark and terrible, is imminent. The reluctant Corvo is thrust into a situation of careless trust: to join the very ponies he's bitterly unsure of in company. He does, after all, have his own reasons for doing so.

-MLP/Dishonored Crossover

►[Former] Pre-reader and proof-reader: Bootsy Slickmane

Published 2015-10-11 17:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2018-04-01 05:21:40 UTC

Recap of the first story

I've brewed up this nifty recap for those who lack the patience to slog through the first story just to get to this one. It's for the sake of convenience, after all, since I consider this story to be the more important of the two works. Below is a more or less detailed synopsis, in point form, of Elements of Honor, written to the best of my abilities to make Civil Distinction a cohesive whole on its own.

* * *

-There are many strange and dangerous events occurring in Equestria (unnatural weather patterns, mysterious destruction of buildings and mountains, signs of dark magic, Discord is nowhere to be found, et cetera).
-Naturally, everypony is both scared and confused, and confronts the princesses for answers (none of them know the cause, however).
-It is revealed that four months ago a mysterious being (a human named Corvo Attano) ventured to Equestria to kill both Celestia and Luna, his reasons for doing so being unknown. Corvo is a master swordsman from an alternate 19th century.
-He can stop time, teleport, blast gusts of wind, possess people and animals, see in the dark and through walls, and summon a swarm of murderous rats (these powers come from a magical mark on his hand, gifted to him by the Outsider, a supernatural deity who likes to be entertained). He carries a small crossbow. He also has a metal mask and kills those he deems evil in his world as a vigilante (basically a Batman who kills). But for most of this story he does not wear this mask.
-Right in the midst of all this chaos, Corvo returns again and confronts the princesses, to apologize for the pain he had brought them in the past, coincidently at the same time as these horrible events have started to appear.
-Celestia doesn't believe him at first, and even commands her guards to attack him, but after intense reluctance, she accepts his apology. On one condition...
-They both will make a deal: to redeem his name by helping the ponies relieve Equestria of these arbitrary dangers.
-After a bad-tempered get-together with the Main Six and all the princesses, as well as Shining Armor, they ride to the Crystal Empire, as it's revealed that they've found a clue there.
-They are attacked by Windigos on the way (which is strange, Windigos shouldn't exist anymore, yet there they are).
-Corvo fights them, is knocked out in the process, and wakes up three weeks later in the care of Cadence.
-They lead him to the clue, which is a tall, black tree, embedded in the wall, with seven round slots at the branches.
-Corvo is told that they found a stone with his Mark on it, and yet placing it in the gaunt tree has no effect.
-He then places it, a magical surge occurs, and the room brightens a bit.
-Corvo deduces that they must clear out the tree with all seven stones (which turns out to be scattered all over Equestria).
-At night Luna questions Corvo as to why he came to Equestria in the first place. Corvo can't recall correctly, and says it was because a powerful man (the Outsider) promised him something. They leave off unsatisfied.
-They ride back to Canterlot, but the city is overrun by thousands of Timberwolves (again, due to strange and dangerous events happening all over Equestria).
-Corvo reveals that he has gained the power of pyromancy when he placed the stone, and burns them all, at the expense of severe fatigue. He passes out.
-He wakes up in a hospital next to Celestia, and she tells him his hypothesis about the tree is correct (the magnitude of these events have decreased by roughly 1/7th).
-The following day he has a one-on-one chat with each of the Main Six, getting to know them a little better.
-This time Celestia questions Corvo, but she just makes herself feel sad.
-What follows is several adventures where they each collect the stones, one by one. Before this Corvo deduced that each stone was in a unique environment (no two were in a desert, for example), ridden by magic.
-During one of these Corvo realizes that he's losing his powers, as he's been getting weaker and weaker throughout the story.
-He then tries to figure out the cause of these incidents in Equestria, and stumbles upon the possibility that he might be the cause, as it all falls into place. This prospect leaves him extremely uncomfortable, so he waves it off and doesn't think about it.
-Celestia and Corvo also have a match of chess. Celestia wins.
-When they find the sixth stone and Corvo places it in the tree, he regains all his memories:
-His first arrival was because the Outsider looked into the future and foresaw the creation of multi-dimensional magic, which would lead to a war between his world and Equestria. He goes to kill them but is unable to, and the Outsider brings him back. Corvo then devises a master plan:
-The Outsider will set up those strange occurrences in Equestria, delete his memory of the first visit until the sixth stone (which will make him want to go back and seek forgiveness), and have him lose his powers in the process, as well as gain a new one. He will then gain all of his powers back with the seventh stone. This is all a psychological trick. And alicorns have a magical force field around their bodies, so killing them with a sword won't work. This is all a product of Corvo's studies on Equestria.
-He also has the Outsider erase Discord from the picture beforehand by threatening to kill Fluttershy if he doesn't leave for a certain number of months. Discord sadly complies (the Outsider is much more powerful than him).
-But this whole time Celestia and Luna have been suspicious of Corvo.
-What follows next is a mind game where Corvo still pretends to be on the ponies' but is still trying to find the seventh stone.
-Corvo finds the seventh stone, much to Celestia's horror, since she was hiding it from him until she could figure the whole scene out. She almost wins.
-He manages to kill Celestia by poisoning the lid of her tea cup (where one places their lips to drink).
-At first this was part of the sisters' plan to defeat Corvo, but he out-smarted them regardless.
-He then kills Luna by luring her into an underground dungeon: he intoxicated the air there with his pyromancy (creative control of the energy in chemical bonds).
-At the same time he burns down the Royal Library and Archives to ensure that Equestria is magically crippled and cannot follow him back.
-Discord at last returns, more pissed off than anything else, and with Twilight chases Corvo down.
-Corvo escapes back to his world with ease by stopping time and hopping into a portal, courtesy of the Outsider.
-The story ends with Twilight and Discord depressed that Celestia and Luna are dead, and Corvo laughs maniacally that he will take over his city (Dunwall) and rule it as the upholder of justice.
-The Outsider disapproves, but nevertheless displays his impartiality and continues watching over everything.

The sequel, Civil Distinction, takes place two years later.

Chapter 1: Erroneous Superficiality

Author's Note

Just a few things to note here to clear up any potential confusion:

1) All humans in this story, with the exception of Corvo, are original characters.
2) The narrator is his own character, he's not me.

Chapter 1: Erroneous Superficiality

There had been quite a lot to discuss in the two years since Corvo had returned from his second trip to Equestria. He still kept quiet, and with a mask would watch things both afar and close by, all the while behaving inconspicuously in high society. Corvo was now a famous, unseen figure of controversy, roaming the city of Dunwall, of which whomever there spoke against him would disappear; sometimes it was justly, and others it was not. It was his responsibility to keep the assassin-work secret and distant. He would, in short, go out of his way to kill those he deemed "unworthy to live" in absolute secrecy: criminals, corrupt politicians, et cetera.

"A madman," they would call him. "A very secretive person with the right sense of justice," would say many others. Yes, the labours of the Wandering Stranger—that is what they called Corvo—was very peculiar topic to discuss among the people, though ever popular it remained. "What he does he thinks it to be right," say the wise, "but there is more malice in such acts than one could guess."

His work was never in vain, fortunately for him. Corvo reduced the country's crime-rate by eighty-percent, at the cost of his good, secondary name replaced by both fear and worship. But he did not mind, and kept on striving forth. He was even accompanied by the Outsider, who, non-specially, only witnessed the slayings for entertainment.

But nothing else worth noting happened within that time period. It was only after two years—after Corvo supposedly killed both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna to save his own world—that another adventure begun, throwing he and the ponies into more entanglements of work and worriment.

This story, precisely the following string of events concerning Corvo, takes place two years after his visit to Equestria. Believe me when I say that I'm only here to recount what is essential, and have left out the unnecessary parts, although I anticipate that you, the reader, may not agree with my effort or assurance, and even make light of it. I'm actually at a lost, you see—as the narrator for this story I find it impossible, even inconceivable, to describe the whole of this narrative exactly as how it should be. In hindsight, how is that even remotely achievable? I find it that no matter how well you explain a certain idea, a little, trivial idea that has tormented you for who knows how long, no matter how many pages you write describing the idea, no matter from how many angles you attack it in the hopes of a proper explanation, at the end of the day there will be a tiny fragment, perhaps at the center of your idea, of which only you will understand, because even if people stress that they understand your idea, only you can truly know it. So again, I'm at a lost, and as such I'm resolved to concede to the perplexity of this story.

I could tell you that the story takes an interesting turn two years later, but interesting to whom? "Why should I, the reader, spend my time studying such redundancy? What is so notable about what you write or tell me?" And so I apologize for whatever perplexity, to whatever degree, may strike you during your reading process, especially if you are the one who puts in the effort to find some general sense in the general senselessness. It would be strange for I, the narrator, to demand clarity from you, the reader.

But I will defend the significance of this story, namely for conveying an idea that more or less resembles its inception. This took a long time to write—longer than expected—and with a lot of uncertainty, but the end product is, perhaps, in my opinion, at the very least digestible. Take of that what you will. Once you complete the final chapter please feel whichever way you like, you may even disagree with my statement that the story deliberately conveys a particular idea, but I implore you to not forget anything important.

But I'm rambling, which is even further evidence of my "narrator's confession," or whatever you want to call it. Let's start.

* * *

"Thank you," said Corvo, thrusting the letter he had just received into his blue greatcoat's pocket. "Mr. Arbmos, it was?—If memory serves me right."

"Right," said the man, dressed over in a bright grey frock coat. "Edwin Arbmos."

I will add a brief (hopefully not too-out-of-place) note here on Arbmos. The man was of the intelligent, undecided sort. He was thoughtful and strangely absent-minded. He was portly-looking, strongly built, and rather tall. There was a strange fixity in his gaze at times. Like all somewhat absent-minded people he would sometimes stare at a person without seeing them, and at times would speak effusively and at length. He was always well and even elaborately dressed; he had already some independent fortune and expectations of much more.

With that being said, a light in Corvo's eyes flickered as he scanned the gentleman, all while feeling the wax paper in his coat. "I saw you at the previous lecture," said Corvo. "The lecture in March, two months back, about the mathematical predictability of neurotransmitters. I believe you were the professor?"

Arbmos nodded briskly, and Corvo added: "Of course... hmm... ah, University of Dunwall, staff of the chemistry department—brain chemistry. I'm quite skeptical of the theories you proposed, if only by my own experience; but what is science if not asking the fundamental questions? Knowing that, thank you again for this diploma of recognition."

"Not a problem at all," said Arbmos. "I recognize that you had private incidences to attend, and not enough managed time to make public appearances to receive awards. And while I humbly accept any and all forms of criticism regarding my own work—heh, heh—you deserved it for such a marvellous discovery on your unique theory of time."

"It is convenient that you were the host, being able to hand me the paper in person, while informing everyone else," said Corvo, ending with a chuckle. "And a third time—thank you!"

Corvo was glancing all round him: the many men and women dressed in expensive attires, the butlers and maidens pacing all about long hallways to serve, and the plethora of tables which bore wine and food. He had been lucky to have received an invitation to such a prestigious party as the Unmasked Ball: a get-together of people with famous, superficial status, all of whom could discuss any future decisions for the city's economy; and, at the end, there would always be an honouring of the most important person there, and a meeting afterwards in secret. Everyone in general was much happier now, and more could rest even. But an eerie hunch was continuously hanging on the edge of his mind, since he had first arrived.

"Corvo," said Arbmos. Corvo nearly flinched from his thinking, and looked at the professor with sharp eyes. "How old are you, if I may ask?"

"Thirty-one. And I will be thirty-two in August." He wandered down to the main foyer, with the professor at his side, asking: "What brings it up?"

"Nothing, really," replied Arbmos. "I just wanted to know because—well, that award you got—the Noble Karma Prize—is only one of many. The Unmasked Ball is something entirely different, usually reserved for people aged at at least fifty."

"It is the hardy toil that most must struggle through," said Corvo, filling a cup at his side with wine from a marble fountain. "But to me the mathematics are easy; they are just numbers, so why the stress?"

"That is a very interesting response, ve-ry interesting," said Arbmos, gently pulling at his beard. "But what would you be willing to do? What evils?"

Corvo nearly choked, swallowing the wine in his throat with an effort and raising his brow. "I, um..." he started, placing the glass back on a table nearby. "Evils of what?"

"Do you not have to make any sacrifices, harmless or otherwise?" asked Arbmos. "Nothing?"

"No, nothing. Just a lot of... paper work."

To Corvo's surprise, Edwin Arbmos looked darkly at him, bearing a hard stare. "Corvo," said the professor, "all science requires strict sacrifices. Some are too arbitrary to count."

"Arbitrary?" said Corvo with a dubious air. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that all works relating to physics happen with random magnitudes," replied Arbmos. "Sometimes there are breakthroughs, and sometimes there are not. Well, I only met you two or so days ago, I think." And suddenly his face brightened, and he smiled and tightened the bow-tie of his suit. "But I don't know you enough to hand in adequate sayings."

"If chemistry is your field, do you know anything about applied physics?" asked Corvo almost wearily.

"That is mostly your ground. But I know a thing or three on nuclear physics in particular." The two men looked over the grand room, as if expecting something to come out of the thin crowd of people, then they looked back to each other. "I already gave you that 'fancy' paper that says how great you are—heh, heh. But do not get too arrogant. You are still required to make a speech."

"They chose me to speak?" said Corvo in a whispering voice. He coughed. "I am honoured, truly."

"That is great and all, but what are the details?"

Upon hearing the question, Corvo reached into a back-pocket of his, and drew forth a small piece of linen, with uneven threads sticking out on all sides, and with lines of different shades. "Time," he said. "It is theoretical, but it also helps us discover much about, say, quantum physics and its proportions with the universe."

Arbmos looked down to the small piece of woven cloth dubiously. "That thing does not look theoretical. Heh. It is very tangible by my observation."

Corvo looked thoughtfully at the linen in his palm, fingering it. He put it back into his pocket and hummed in thought. "It is only a placeholder; or an example to explain the theory, I would say."

"I see," said Arbmos. "But I will leave it to your explanation in a few minutes; for it is almost midnight, and we need that important person to inspire us, of course."

"There you are, Corvo the Undearest," said a harsh voice in mockery. The two of them turned to see a woman, coming upfront as usual to insult men she disliked; and at the moment, she was reminding Corvo how much he did not want to see her.

"Good to see you, too, Holley Whistle," said Corvo, crossing his arms and sighing. "Why are you here?"

"They invited me," said Holley. "But I suppose they let you in here out of sympathy. You never could accomplish anything, Corvo. Not with that improbably massive ego of yours." She gave an unpleasant face, glaring at them with sarcastic eyes.

"A big ego?" said Corvo, disliking her even more. Holley Whistle always had a bad view of Corvo from the moment she saw him. She detested all the things he could do, and what praise he got from older folk. As a fifty-five-year-old lady, and a clever tradeswoman, she thought she had everyone in the city figured out; that is until Corvo became more well known as a deductive helper and took the attention off her. And his young age certainly did not lessen her distaste for him.

"Quite funny of you to say that, really," continued Corvo. "When was the last time you were asked to speak in front of everyone at the Unmasked Ball? Never, was it?"

"What!" she exclaimed hotly. "Speakers for the Unmasked Ball is a privilege reserved for the greatest minds. You did not get picked. What ever do you do besides play chess all day?"

"Other than study fourth-dimensional physics and human anatomy, aid the justice system as a detective, and innovate in the ways we think of the universe, I have no idea!"

Arbmos laughed at the remark. "It is true, however, Mrs. Whistle," he said. "I was the one who gave Corvo here the official words. It will be very special, I would hope."

"Did you discover that the Earth is round?" snorted Holley, much to Corvo's annoyance. "A little late, hmm?"

"A little late to be jealous is what I would say," he answered.

"Does not matter!" she said, turning to walk away. "I will see what you have done, Corvo. If you were my husband, I would poison your tea!"

"If you were my wife, I would drink it," said Corvo quietly.

Arbmos laughed to himself, and shook his head in disapproval of the situation. "You have enemies, Corvo?" he asked.

"Yes," he said. "I guess I do, however undeserved it may be. All of these problematic faces at a prestigious party that happens once a year, and they treat me like I am the problem."

"If you have not noticed, you are one of the youngest persons here," said Arbmos. "But I do agree: it is like everyone has already forgotten about the fundamentals of liberalism."

"Sure," said Corvo slowly, not quite paying attention. His mind was set on all the people round them heading into a single point of the mansion, like an army of ants heading back into their hole.

Arbmos gently nudged Corvo's shoulder and gestured by pointing his eyes towards a large, arched frame in the wall, open and leading into a larger and brighter room. From within there more voices rang. "All the speeches have been presented, and the awards given," he said, "come then, it's your turn, I believe, at the end of this Ball."

"Well, let us see if there is any interest there," said Corvo.

I think it's fair to take a step back, that is, a two-year step back and see just what led to the trouble that is soon to entail the characters.

* * *

"Farewell, Princess Luna," said Corvo with a stone-cold face. He backed out from the small window that was thrust into the dungeon; and all went black.

Luna's vision began to shift to grey, despite the darkness all about. Her breath was cut, and her mind was too scrambled to think at all. She felt a stiffness go throughout her limbs, and finally settle into her heart, where it stopped beating. The strangled gasp she let out faded. And even though there was nothing but her in the most unexpected vacuum, a chill wind came upon her face. She finally exhaled a single time, and everything within her went blank—very temporarily.

The cool air in the room immediately became hot. A great golden flame appeared, destroying all shadows afterwards. The light was like a sun trapped into a small box, expanding to break free. But the second it happened, it also disappeared, encompassing whatever was there, in the trap, and teleporting it out.

Usually when one loses breath, one would be in a deep sleep for quite some time. Luna, with her unexpected asphyxiation, widened her eyes the moment she saw a colour other than black. She jumped up and gasped desperately, hitting a fore-hoof against her chest. There was no easing into the awakening; all of her senses returned in an instance. She was on a slabbed floor, with pillars spread thinly about her.

"Great timing for a comeback, huh," said Celestia as the last light emitting from her horn died down. "Normally I'd ask if you're okay, sister, but I know you must be in a bit of mental shock."

"Tia?" said Luna, as if she hadn't seen her sister all her life. "What in Equestria happened! And how are you..." she ended in a sharp inhale.

"I saved you just in time, though I had to wait for Corvo to get far away enough from that room," explained Celestia, casting a sharp glance all round the foyer, as if expecting a sudden intruder. She looked to Luna and said in a soft voice: "Thank you for not losing faith."

Luna, without meaning to, found herself hugging her sister and breathing heavily. "You were supposed to be dead," she said with a bowed head.

Celestia felt tears wet her chest. "I'll give us a minute to cry for each other," she mused, almost shaking herself, hugging Luna back and closing her eyes. "But I was always fine. My greatest fear was your situation. Do you have any idea what I would have done if Corvo... killed you?"

Luna stepped back and furrowed her brow, though she smiled weakly. "I'm not sure. But please let's not dwell on unnecessary nightmares. I just want to know how you're standing!"

"Corvo was much too optimistic in his plan," said Celestia. She paused for a moment to choke back a stutter. She shivered and wiped her eyes. "When he invited me to that commemoration for tea, I knew that it was a trap. He knew that I was aware of it as well. But in the tea? I considered every possible outcome. I avoided the poison under his notion and pretended to be dead. Only two guards and one of the detectives that was hired from Ponyville I told."

"But how did you avoid it, how did you know?" asked Luna impatiently. "Surely he would make a plan for that as well."

"I'll explain later. But listen: I'm terribly sorry for putting you through this, Luna, but it was to get Corvo to leave. We have to head out either now or very, very shortly." Celestia quickly wandered down the wide hallway and looked through a window, noticing how pale and dark the sun had become. It lazily hung just above the red horizon of mountains.

"Don't be!" said Luna. "I just have too much of—ah, I can't explain it now—but it's built up. I can't explain—"

"Me too," whispered in Celestia.

"Right! But why all the unseen delay?"

"I did this so no other pony would be harmed," said Celestia. "I needed to give Corvo the idea that I truly was defeated, and that you were as well. Now he's leaving, though Twilight will most likely go after him if she knows that you died—supposedly died, I mean. But don't worry. Based on how you would need the help of another alicorn or two to raise the sun for the next following day or so, I ultimately came to the conclusion that you'd see Twilight more often. Corvo would probably get you separated, and Twilight would go after. But by now he's left, I think."

"What makes you say that?" asked Luna.

"The smoke! You see it coming from that forest there, see? Come with me!" said Celestia in a sudden sharpness, pointing with a hoof far away. She spread her wings and took off at blurring velocity.

Luna had hardly noticed the mismatched detail at the distant patch of green before she tried her hardest to follow. There was an apparent explosion, but only one with the keenest eyes could have spotted it from Canterlot Castle.

* * *

When both Corvo and Arbmos had reached the center of attention, a large crowd was already waiting there. A golden chandelier hung high above the open room, amid the rounded walls. There was a large slab-stage right under it, with two small sections of stairs on both sides. Behind the high stage was a wall of red and gold curtain. The number of people present was uncountable at first.

Edwin Arbmos was expected to step up the stage the moment he set foot in the room. Just by walking and settling his hands on the marble podium he received many unnecessary claps.

"Good evening!" he said aloud. "Oh, apologies. Good night, as it is." There were three or four faint laughs. "Today marks the tenth anniversary of the Unmasked Ball, where we get the most prestigious and clever people of our time, get them together to be social—finally!" There were more laughs. "And from then on we try to revolutionize in how we think of the world. But it is not just about proving your worth. It is about making friends, sharing ideas, and..." He paused and circled his wrist. "Well, normally I would have a third point, but I do not. Whoever told me to say these lines must have been having an affair at the moment." The laughing was even greater now, and lasted longer. "Sorry, sorry! Too many jokes! Let us get to the serious part. Fair ladies and noble gentlemen, tonight we have who is perhaps the youngest person yet to be speaking at such a place: Corvo Attano!"

The crowd gave a rousing applause as Corvo walked up the stairs. He rested a fist on the podium, and Arbmos remained at his side with his arms clutched together behind his back.

"It is very nice to see such lovely faces," said Corvo. "I am truly honoured to be, not only invited as one of the, I think, five-hundred or so guests out of the hundreds of thousands who hoped to come, but to be the very person to speak here, at the end. But why me? I guess it is because people's standards have lowered, eh?" The crowd looked at him cryptically, and exchanged whispers among one another. "Allow me to continue," said Corvo in a lower voice. "The reason I am here is to—"

"Speak louder!" shouted a voice from behind the room.

"The reason I am here is for the theory!" said Corvo again. "Like you all have heard for the past month or so, I have created a new theory concerning time, which will make us think more deeply about the universe, history itself, and how we as a society think of the connections between it all."

There were several scattered claps, though the people remained genuinely unimpressed. "Please listen up," said Corvo. "Time itself is a fabric called history, which is made up of varied time threads, all created by cause and eventual effect. And time threads are what connect time together. They are the reason why we have a today and a tomorrow. If we can learn to manipulate these threads, there is a grand possibility that we reach longer life expectancy."

A man in the front put his hand up and said: "But how does it work? How would you do it?"

"It is only theoretical," said Corvo disappointingly. "But we can control it if more research is put into that direction. I would be willing to take the part."

Arbmos quickly noticed that many people were either yawning or glancing at their watches. They were all starting to become bored; but he knew why, and he had not told Corvo until now.

"Mr. Attano," he whispered in, "talk about the Wandering Stranger."

"What! Why?" Corvo whispered back. "I thought this was to show scientific discoveries, not to talk about what is already on the newspapers."

"Yes, I understand. But the committee has already read over and talked about those research papers you sent me the month-and-a-half ago. Suffice to say, it did not impress them, and they were not too keen on letting you speak. But since you are a detective, too, they just wanted your words on the Wandering Stranger."

"The only reason I am up here is because of that?" said Corvo. He groaned in annoyance and straightened his back to look at the crowd. In an almost weary voice he said: "I will now talk about the Wandering Stranger. Any questions?"

Immediately half of the entire room raised a hand and paid more attention. Corvo picked an arbitrary arm: a woman clad in white: Raquel Ford.

"Do you think this lunatic will ever be captured?" she asked.

Corvo chuckled. "Do you not think it to be a little too soon for that adjective, Mrs. Ford?" he said.

"We are speaking of a man, who hides in the shadows, and no one ever sees him!" said another man to Corvo. "He kills people!"

"He only kills those who deserve it!" argued someone else from across the room. Several yes's and of course's later followed.

"And crime rates have dropped down significantly, and wars have ended!" shouted Holley Whistle. "He is a hero, if you ask me!"

"A hero for killing people in bloodbaths!" argued yet another woman. "How can you all support him?"

"I do not!" cried a man from the back.

Corvo rose both of his hands and shouted: "People! Allow me to speak! I think I know what you all want to hear." When he rested his arms the room was dead quiet. They were all listening intently. "I am a detective, yes. I have dabbled in this case before; but we are still leagues and rotations from capturing the Wandering Stranger. He never leaves any clues behind that can lead to the next politician he kills, or a famous worker, or whoever it would be."

"What say you on this matter?" asked Raquel Ford. "Is he for the better or for the worse?"

Corvo hesitated a moment. He tapped a finger to his side and danced his eyes about. "My opinion is... irrelevant," he said at length.

"Ha! And you are supposed to be the best detective!" said Holley Whistle. "You are probably like the rest who are in the blind justice system. You want to stop him, Attano? I bet you do! All he does is help the world be a better place; and when we have stupid lapdogs like Corvo that oppose the only good people, that is when we have a problem."

Corvo couldn't help but laugh in his mind. "The problems are the people's opinions towards this," he said. "If you lot would stop pretending to be so personal, then maybe we would understand this ominous fellow a little better."

"Pretending!" cried a man. "Unlike all the deadhead fools here who complain or whine about a killer, some of us actually do things. 'Pretending' you say?"

"Apparently Corvo is correct," said Raquel Ford. "All the crime scenes that I have read about were left practically unreadable. No one would be able to do anything. So why not stop lying!"

The room exploded into many arguments. People were now debating with one another, discussing rudely, and all looked away from the stage. The room was evenly split—either for or against the Wandering Stranger.

"That is enough!" interfered Arbmos. "We will end this speech on such short notice. Please gather your things and head home. The Ball will close shortly. Apologies! We are on our way now."

All the people froze and looked to the stage. Many were now confused or frustrated with what had become. Corvo sighed long but quietly and left the stage, walking past everyone with a bowed head. Many called to him, but he ignored and vanished from sight within a turn of a corner. The moment Arbmos disappeared with him everyone started to pack up and leave, and some still went on about the arguments.

"I cannot believe it!" said Corvo to Arbmos. "All of that anticipation for nothing. The speech lasted for thirty seconds before it strayed into disaster, and now it has ended. But worse of all, no one cared about what I had to say. They were all too interested in the Wandering Stranger to care."

"Corvo," said Arbmos, "I know you are frustrated, but at least you still get your prize money tomorrow—in coin."

"I am not frustrated, Mr. Arbmos," said Corvo in a low voice. "I am saddened. But I do not want to hang on such low ground. Here, take it." Corvo withdrew the wax paper from his pocket.

"Very well." Arbmos took the document to inspect it; then he folded the thing and stuffed it under his belt. "Will I see you soon?"

"Yes—I mean, hopefully."

And Arbmos bowed and left back from where they had come. But there was now a glint in Corvo's eyes. He glanced out into the people passing by, either now leaving or picking things up to take. Without anyone seeing him Corvo disappeared from that place like an invisible shadow.

* * *

"I'm sorry," said Discord. He held a straightened paw below his forehead to see afar. "The Outsider was part of this all along."

"Who's the Outsider?" asked Twilight in a choking voice.

"He was an acquaintance from a time long-forgotten ago," said Discord, looking back to Twilight. "But I'm not sure why anyone would do something like this. Even for me, that's cold. I'm sorry, Twilight."

"I know we have a lot of sadness going on today, but we can't let it falter us," said Celestia as she revealed herself from behind a tree. Luna showed herself seconds after, looking significantly exhausted.

"Princess Celestia!" said Twilight, running to hug her mentor, not noticing that she didn't even bow, unlike every other encounter with the princess.

"Twilight, save the tears for later," said Celestia. Twilight looked at her with watery eyes and nodded. "Where's Corvo, exactly?"

"He escaped," said Discord. "Wait, am I missing something here?"

"Yes, Celestia was dead," explained Luna. "Or, at the very least, she was supposed to be. She'll give a reason when we return to the castle, I presume."

"Princess Celestia, you have no idea how terrified I was," said Twilight quickly and solemnly. "You were gone and I thought you'd never come back, and I had all the stress put on me. I... thought I was going to die!" She began to weep into Celestia's chest. But the white princess smiled sympathetically and returned the hug.

"Fine, let all the emotions out for a bit," she said, sounding as if she herself would cry. "Discord, do you mind if you bring us back to the castle. It'd be quicker."

"Sure thing," said Discord. "With all of this crazy nonsense going on about, this old draconequus needs a bit of explaining!"

In a snap and a quick flash later, they all found themselves in the castle's foyer. Immediately afterwards, Celestia trotted up a widened, short stairway into a taller part of the room, and hunched down to look over a specific slab. She levitated it carefully from out of the floor. There was only white stone underneath.

"What are you looking for, Tia?" asked Luna.

"Oh, good," sighed Celestia. "Nothing. I was just making sure that events didn't repeat themselves."

"Why would they repeat themselves?" asked Twilight, still trying to get over her overjoyed emotions.

"I was just a bit paranoid," said Celestia. "Forget it." She turned to them with an analytical expression, as if she were trying to figure out the last piece to a hard puzzle. "I'll lower the sun. Right now, we need some rest—all of us."

"But what about Corvo?" said Luna. "Surely we cannot just forget about him."

"I never said we would," said Celestia. "In the morning I'll resume my thinking, but on my own this time. The rest of you will stay out of it."

All three of them were about to object, but they noticed how serious and threatening Celestia looked. It was as if she had control of the whole room and her words held all the power. Shivers went up each of their backs, even Discord's.

"I hope you understand," she continued. "Not to seem rude, but brutally honest: you'll all hold me back. Tomorrow morning I'll announce my return, though it needs to be hasty. Luna, continue with your night duties. Twilight, please go back to Ponyville. Its citizens need you, especially your friends. Discord—" she now said with a warm voice and faint smile "—go back to Fluttershy. She's your friend, after all."

A military uniform and hat magically appeared on Discord. He gave a salute and said: "Will do!" And he teleported from sight.

"That was fast," said Twilight to herself. "Anyway, if you need anything, just let me know, Princess." Her movements lagged a bit at first, but she breathed heavily and made her way to the front double door. "It's good to have you back," she ended in a callback.

Celestia, however, could now sense a loneliness in the room. There were no guards to be seen, nor any sound. None of the creatures in the gardens were happy, all torches and lanterns lacked flame, and hardly anypony visited. The castle had become deserted, save now for the two alicorns.

At length Luna said: "After all of this—after, say, a week from now—what do you plan to do?"

"I need to do some research," said Celestia.

"Research? What's the point?" asked Luna.

"Corvo is capable of dark magic," answered Celestia gravely. Her tone had dwindled into worriment. "You probably wonder why this seems to trouble me. King Sombra used it quite the while ago, and we beat him, when he was alone in that subject. But in the past few weeks I've been secretly thinking that Corvo can have serious after-effects, even with his absence. I only pretended to die and have him thinking that you too died so he would be satisfied and leave, so I could have time to think."

"Think on what? What after-effects?" said Luna. "I'm guessing that you're referring to his dark magic usage."

"You're right, it is," said Celestia. "It'll take a while; but for now, promise me one thing, okay? Promise me that you'll keep being safe. That's all I ask, since you're the most trustworthy pony I know." But a thought at the edge of mind came into play, and Celestia added: "Oh, and Corvo tried to burn down everything in both the Royal Library and Archives."

"Huh!" said Luna. "He attempted to burn all of the books and scrolls?"

"Don't worry. I set them to be fire-proof for another two weeks, I believe. Best I could do given the haste. I guessed that he would do something like that. It was a last-second decision."

"But how did you know he was aiming for such an act?" asked Luna

"Sister, you know who I am," remarked Celestia.

"Ah, of course. Nevermind," said Luna flatly. "Though you still didn't tell me how you avoided the poison."

"There was a spell that can make you immune to certain types of plants for a day," answered Celestia.

"But that's much too obvious."

Celestia laughed. "Just like when I played chess with him. Some minds just can't see the obvious outcomes that could ruin their plans."

"Well then, I suppose all is set!" said Luna, sounding out of breath. Today had been a lot to take in: her sister faking her own death, an ominous worriment, and everything that had happened before. She arrayed her thoughts in order of what to do. Luna would need to keep acting normal and not mention anything to anypony else. Something was definitely stirring up in the background; and she didn't like it for a second.

"Okay," she said again, but more softly. "I'll inform the others about your arrival—such as Princess Cadence and Shining Armor—tomorrow. I just hope that whatever you do is beneficial for us. We sure as tartarus wouldn't want anything to get out of control again."

"Luna," said Celestia for a final time in that hour, "I have a feeling that we'll see Corvo again. Either soon or years from now, it's an imminent situation that we're caught in."

Luna didn't respond. She knew she didn't have to.

* * *

"What a day!" yawned Corvo as he stepped through his entrance frame, closing the door behind him with a faint thud. He set what money was left in his pockets on the lid of a round crevice in his wall, hung his pale-blue greatcoat over the rack, and lit a candle that hung high on a mantelpiece over a hearth. His desk was piled with new information concerning more cases, newly discovered mysteries, and oddities. But Corvo paid no mind to those.

"And you return looking to be in the gloom," said a methodical voice. A second doorway opened, and the Outsider stepped in the living room.

"A little bit," said Corvo. "But do not bug me about it. A day is only wasted if you have learned nothing new."

"So what did you learn today?" asked the Outsider. "Any lecture on the fragile philosophy of only the keenest minds? Perhaps you have planned another drawn-out assassination of deceitfulness. Or did you just create something new, something powerful, and will use it to your incomparable desires?"

"Why not sing poetry for me while you are at it!" said Corvo. He lifted a heavy, grey jacket from a pin in the wall, and slid it on in a fidgety sort of way. He took his mask off the edge of the mantelpiece and fingered its glass eye, looking suspiciously at it. "All I did was attend a party."

"I bet it was nonsense, huh?" said the Outsider.

"No, not at all," said Corvo, equipping the mask on; its metal surface gleamed in response to the burning wick of the lit candle. His next words were deeper and more precise: "Just people."

The Outsider creased his brow in a mocking manner and smirked. "Stupid people?"

"One better not call others stupid, for it indicates that he does not think, and is trying to quickly resolve that person's background," said Corvo. "I will be heading out now. Watch if you like."

"You know that I take great interest in your life, Corvo," said the Outsider, "but why are you heading out now? You just came in not even one minute ago, yawning and describing the day as wearying."

"I was describing Corvo Attano's day," said Corvo. "The Wandering Stranger is heading out. That is what I meant to imply."

"Do go on."

"Sir Vladimir Elmer," said Corvo. He rested one of his shoulders against the wall and opened the door he had come in through, gesturing outside with a thumb. "He is a sociopathic criminal who has a record for robbing the vaults with the most coin in all of Dunwall and such. He is able to always talk the legal system into making things seem legitimate or accidental. He is a blackmailer and consistently commits manipulation under anyone's notion. Tonight he is missing; and chances are, he is plotting another vault heist. I will be there to kill him."

"Why has he not gotten a death row sentence yet if he is such a travesty?"

"My guess is that he blackmails the people into voting him as the non-guilty person. In a way, he is not guilty, since that is what the police say. And killing him would be a crime."

"But you could not care less," said the Outsider with a stretch of his back. "I understand."

Corvo was about to walk out of his house, but the Outsider caught him off guard, loudly calling: "Hold on!"

Corvo nearly tripped on his own feet from the sudden outburst. "Make it quick," he said, much to his annoyance, stepping back inside.

"There is a letter for you," said the Outsider, as if he had expected Corvo to already know.

This caught Corvo's interest. His peripherals looked out to the streets through the doorway, then he leaped in and closed the door. "By whom?" he asked reluctantly.

"It's anonymous," said the Outsider. "On the couch there, which looks towards the hearth and stool."

Corvo looked over to find a perfectly square piece of paper, folded three times and tied with a yellow ribbon. He carefully lifted it and hummed in thought. "This paper is unusually smooth, though it is not wax," he commented. "Maple tree, I would guess; but maple trees do not grow in this continent."

"Imported from across the sea?" opined the Outsider.

"They would only give it to me by mail, and I have no word of signified mention," said Corvo, "so no. There was also no shipment of any paper this month, according to my knowledge."

"And nobody broke in here to leave behind a letter; for I have been here all day, and none but you came."

"Even if you were not here, I could still know, since there are many tricks I left all round the house to determine if there really were a thief. For example, you cannot put too much weight on the carpet at the bottom of the threshold—say, by stepping on it. If you do, a copper wire would pull a wooden plank from beneath, moving the carpet. Once the culprit leaves, either he does not put it back and I know someone came in, or he does and I would still feel the shift beneath the floor. Not by the windows, either, since there are small pieces of paper in between their joints. If someone came in here by that way, even if the paper is put back, I could still tell by the specific angle. Do you get me?"

"All right," said the Outsider, "no one came in here, and it is impossible for that letter to have been manufactured from this place. Then what happened, Corvo? Are you not a detective?" he ended dubiously.

"Perhaps we should read it," said Corvo. He slowly pulled the ribbon off and threw it to the Outsider, who leaned forth to catch. "That is made of legitimately-gold silk, dyed severely with a deep purple. Very expensive. That can give us a few options to go by."

"The person is very wealthy, I would guess," said the Outsider.

"The most obvious to start with, though I think it to be the correct one," said Corvo. He flipped open the letter and read quickly. "This handwriting is extremely odd. It is neither left-handed nor right-handed. Instead, it is as if the person used both hands to write these words, and held the tip of the quill perpendicular to their face. No curves to speak of."

"Maybe it was written by mouth," remarked the Outsider, as if he were attempting to be humorous.

"Maybe," sighed Corvo. "I will read it out loud. Ahem! 'Dear Corvo Attano, do you know that unnecessary meetings do matter in the long run? Did you know that? You do now. I write this in condolence to your situation—or how your situation will be soon. I am hosting an awaiting in a castle.' There are also several letters down here: 'XKYOJKTIK OT KWAKYZXOG.'"

"Do you think it to be a riddle or some sort of hidden saying?"

"Give me a minute to figure it out." Corvo sat down uncomfortably and pressed his back to the couch. It mentioned that superfluous meetings matter. Does it reference to something that has happened in the past? It spoke of a situation; and from the context, this said future does not seem too good. Is it a death threat? Perhaps.

"Maybe they meant to threaten your life," said the Outsider.

"I just got that part down," said Corvo without moving his head. I will focus on those letters: there were two spaces, separating the two nine-letter-long lines from the two letters in between. But what would that mean? I doubt it has a correlation with the 'awaiting in a castle' part.

A minute-long silence hung in the air: Corvo was deep in thought, but with time he grew more still. "I know what it is, but I am aghast to just mention it," said Corvo at length. A shadow passed over him. "It is Equestria."

"Now that is a twist!" said The Outsider. "I bet someone—or rather, somepony wrote this to you. At the end it talks about an awaiting in a castle. Sound familiar?"

"But... no, no. Celestia and Luna are dead," said Corvo. "I killed them in the surest of ways. They were slain by me, as you saw. Unless it was a trick." Corvo huffed and shot up. "That is a massive problem now!"

"A contradiction?"

"But of course!" he said, jumping forth. "You saw those letters, huh? It is a Caesar Cipher. There were twenty letters overall. Just advance each letter by twenty letters from their respective locations on the alphabet, and it spells out: residence in Equestria. But what annoys me is why would someone make a cipher? Why not just spell it out? Either they do not know who I am and are expecting me to be unable to solve this message, or they do and have something else in mind."

"A simple cipher, I see," said the Outsider. "Well, simple to you—not simple to many others. But maybe whoever wrote this expects you to go to Equestria."

"Maybe," said Corvo, biting his nail in frustration. "But if it is the latter in my assumption, then I can only guess that the presumably slain Celestia wrote the code. It even mentioned a 'situation,' Outsider. What do you suppose?"

"I suppose that you are taking a grand leap in logic," he answered. "You are jumping to conclusions."

"That is what my job is half of the time: to take jumps in logic in case I wish to make real progress." Corvo rested his knuckled fist over the forehead of his mask and sat down on the couch's arm. In a low voice he said: "Once you rule out the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be true."

"That sounds somehow familiar," said The Outsider, looking up in thought. "Never you mind that. I still remain incredibly unconvinced. There are so many alternatives."

"I know," said Corvo. "I know of no one here who is aware of Equestria; therefore, it must be from there. But how would they send it if they do not have that sort of magic yet?" He rubbed his teeth together and sighed. "Listen, Outsider, this is an impossible situation. However, I am making the idea that Celestia did write this out to be superficial: she is merely a figure I use to represent Equestria. In all honesty, I too am unconvinced, but many things are possible. I just wish to get rid of that probability as quickly as I can."

"So if you are this adamantly convinced that this letter is derived from Equestria, are you planning on going back there? What about Vladimir Elmer, out there robbing people of their coin?"

"I will kill him later," said Corvo. "He will suspect the Wandering Stranger to come after him, as it happens to everyone. This includes setting many traps all round him, and tricking me into going to the wrong vault. I already predicted the outcomes according to his personality traits and his expenses. But that will wait for later. He is no murderer after all, so I am more concerned with this letter."

And he tossed it onto a nearby table. "But I would hate to digress any further. All I can do now is think." He threw himself on the couch and slid his mask off, looking at the high ceiling with crimson in his eyes.

"You will not go anywhere?" said The Outsider. "No late-night study sessions at the city's archive, like we did nigh three years ago? No hobby you have that can clear your mind? Nothing?"

"You do not know if I have a hobby or not?" said Corvo, sitting up. "I thought that you took interest in my life?"

"I watch over you when you kill criminals—when you are interesting. Your normal life is boring. I have other things to attend in my life."

"You are a millennial-old being who always talks about entertainment," said Corvo, half-smiling. "What can you possibly have in your life other than watch people whom you give your Mark to?"

"A long life has many secrets, Corvo," said The Outsider. "But how could you know?"

"Okay," said Corvo flatly. He used his Mark to light a low fire in the hearth before him. Soon the room's black shadows were noticeably stretched. "I do not."

Several more moments went by. The two just waited there: Corvo in his silence, watching the slow flames; and The Outsider was leant against the wall, studying Corvo. But eventually The Outsider grew bored, and said: "So is this what you usually do?"

"Sure, I guess so," said Corvo quietly.

"Good luck with living your life then!" remarked the Outsider. His feet lifted off from the ground, and a thin screen of black smoke draped round him. "I think I will leave you to it. Good luck. Find me when you get any progress done. Or rather, I'll find you."

Corvo paid practically no attention, as if the world round him were mute. While Outsider vanished, he kept his heavy gaze on the fireplace. Every flame seemed significant, like its own option to go by; but they overlapped, become withered, or vanished from sight when they reached their peaks. It confused him—the analogy he was trying to form in his mind was improbable.

Minutes turned into hours, and many hours surely went by. Weariness soon took Corvo, as at that point he fell into an uneasy sleep, troubled by what would become of his situation if he could not think fast enough.

* * *

There came three, identically-sounding knocks from behind the front door. Corvo opened his eyes quickly, as if he were deep in thought rather than sleeping. He turned round to look past the hallway. Three more knocks hit.

"Half a minute!" he called, getting up to his feet. The hearth's fire had died down into a very dim glow, and to greet him was the sunshine through the high windows. Corvo opened the door, and in stepped Serath, a good friend of his.

"You were still sleeping even now, huh?" said Serath, looking round the living room with his hands deep in his pockets.

"Serath, how did you know I was sleeping?" asked Corvo, exhaling and closing the door. He knew his friend quite well. Quite a few times they would ambiguously end chess matches in stalemates; but most times he would win. Corvo, despite admiring Serath's generosity in such dark times, had to constantly avoid even his suspicion of who the Wandering Stranger really was. They had been best friends for two years now, and Corvo would hate to have to end that friendship.

"It is an hour past midday, Corvo," said Serath with an almost teasing smirk. "You are never this late to wake up. But please, save that for later. I am here to congratulate you."

"The Unmasked Ball," sighed Corvo, unpleasantly being reminded of that night. "Yes, I... I," he stammered. "Sorry. Thank you kindly for coming by just to congratulate me. You did not really have to."

"Well, seeing as how you seemed to lose some sleep, I would guess that you are worried about something," said Serath. He swept an open palm over the couch's arm and chuckled. "Do not mind me."

"I really would not." Corvo cast a glance through the window, then looked back to the door. "I was actually going to head out. But as for the worriment you mentioned: it was only a late-night case."

"That is fine and all, but do try to maintain a decent sleep schedule," said Serath. "Well, if there is nothing that you need, I shall be taking care of my patients at the hospital. I am expected there in twenty minutes no less."

Corvo smiled and rolled his eyes. "And you stopped by here just for the quick talk. Again, thank you, but please go on. Dunwall needs all the doctors they can get. You are one of the few good ones."

A paleness went over Serath's face. He stretched his arms and looked round about. "Before I go, I must ask: did you get any more details concerning the Wandering Stranger?"

"You and I both know that he will most likely never get caught," said Corvo matter-of-factly. "I tried, but all this fellow does is kill and vanish. It is like trying to capture your own shadow."

"But even your shadow becomes defeated when you are in the dark," said Serath. He walked by Corvo in a slow gait, shrugging, as if not caring for a response. "Nineteen minutes now. My bad! Please, go on to whatever it is you were going to go to. And that is?"

"Out of the city, for I am called upon in the other isles," answered Corvo, buttoning up his coat halfway. "I know the clouds are low and grey, but it is not so bad to be outside."

"Hardly anyone is outside at this point." Serath scratched his head and sighed gloomily. "But what would I know? Most of my life, I am indoors. Whatever you will do, do not get struck by lightning!" he ended in a titter.

Corvo smirked and shook his head. "Chances are I will not," he said. But within him his hastiness grew every second. "Anyway, I shall inform you of what I find."

"And one more thing," said Serath. "Did you have someone else over yesterday?"

"No," said Corvo, slowly and suspiciously.

"That is odd," said Serath again, casting a glance over Corvo's shoulder into the dark corridor ahead. "The second door down there is open. It leads directly from an enclosed room to the living room. But some of the wrinkles on your attire tell me that you slept on the couch with the fire lit, for the latter glows dimly of a few hours of age. I am guessing that you were facing the hearth, and the scrambled letters on the desk here shows that you were exclusively working in this room. There is also—"

"Brilliant attempt at deduction!" Corvo cut in at once. "I left the door open from two days ago. As you can tell by the boxes in the back down there"— He pointed to several cardboard figures in a corner's shadow —"I would have placed them back in their respective places had the door been closed today or yesterday."

There was a hesitation in Serath's eyes. But ultimately he grew much too wary of the time and waved it off. "Never mind it then. I was just wondering. Goodbye, Corvo. May I see you again."

"You too," said Corvo in a friendly voice, watching his friend wander down the hill and into a street. "Be at peace." But in his thought he only grew more paranoid of whomever he would talk to. Did anyone from Equestria write that letter? Were they in Equestria? He hardly had the courage to trust anyone outside of his secret; and despite his best efforts at keeping to himself, his social status was much too great for any long-determined focus. Wherever he went his face would be recognized. It was only a matter of planning ahead—something he was very good at.

The first thing he did was hide. Corvo hid away with his mask for the entire day, while everyone thought he was actually out visiting other countries like he used to. The Wandering Stranger, who he now was, could only be still in invisibility as people walked by and ignored what he thought. And then the entirety of the day went by in an untouchable speed.

But now, by that point, Corvo remained in heavy thought until there was a waxing moon in the pale night-sky. Those hours were unique, however; for not a single echo of any voice, nor the radiance of any light was seen or heard. The city of Dunwall was in perfect harmony with the night: still and dark. No one was outside, talking, going on about their business. The high castles and fortresses up north were like tall, looming mountains, staring upon a field of ruins as a lifeless and wide tower. The whole place became, oddly enough, eerily peaceful under the weatherless sky.

Corvo was not a single bit reluctant to go away from his country and never look back. It was strange for him to be okay with such an act, but not a care was found. He noticed himself wishing to go somewhere else as of lately, growing weary and appalled at his dwelling and the faces there. He stood upon a leaning tower, cut into a broad valley, which stretched down into a vast field and connected into the city. The clouds began to clear.

"Could you answer me something?" said Corvo at a never-awaited length. His mind was altogether focused upon the forlorn horizon of the grey world to be concerned with the sheets of houses and buildings far off below. A chill wind started when his lips spoke, vainly attempting to drag his coat far off and up into the air.

"Yes, I could," said the Outsider. He reserved himself to be up against a wall within the tower's structure. "But will I?"

"Do you think that I should go back to Equestria?" asked Corvo.

The Outsider nodded his head with unchanged eyes, as if he had expected to receive the question. "Well, it would make me happier to see you do something, so go ahead. But you have not known about this letter for very long. Are you certain you want to go back without a concrete plan?"

"I am certain."

The Outsider slid a palm over his pale face and sighed heavily. "In all seriousness?" he said. "Corvo, the first time you decided to go to Equestria without a plan was understandable. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into, bore no knowledge of the place or its inhabitants, et cetera. But you went there a second time fully prepared. And now why such an inconsistency: to go there yet a third time without a well-thought layout of what to do? Pray tell."

"I do not have time to plan!" Corvo fell down to sit with his legs crossed, and slapped a hand to his forehead. "Every second I take up could perhaps decrease the time I have to..." Corvo hesitated. "To protect this city," he ended stiffly.

While the Outsider had his head bowed in boredom, something in Corvo's voice made him raise his chin in interest. He never saw Corvo stutter to announce the loyalty he had for everything round them. "I think that you should wait no more than ten minutes."

Corvo looked dubiously at him. "Huh?" he said, tilting his head. "You just went against the fact that I wanted to go to Equestria in such haste not a minute ago."

"Yes, but then I realized something," said the Outsider: "the reason why it took so long to go the second time was because you had no knowledge of Equestria. I now know why you are okay with going a third time: because you have already done your homework. Planning ahead should be much easier now."

Corvo practically threw himself up to his feet and looked long at the Outsider's black eyes. The rims of the moon hazed into the dark sky, shining over Corvo's hood and mask, and spreading a pale-greyness throughout the city. He was there, fully stood up, with a strange light about him. "Is that all the analysis you have?" he said.

The Outsider raised one eyebrow and lowered the other. "Yes. Going back there a third time should be easier," he said, "now that you are already aware of the workings of Equestria, which therefore equals to less time in planning. I think it to be convenient."

"But why would someone—maybe Princess Celestia—write this letter a little over two years after I tried to eliminate her?" said Corvo, his hand checking through his belt. Only my folding sword and a crossbow. I forgot the other things. Pity.

"Maybe she was waiting this long to throw you off?" suggested the Outsider. "Or, I guess, she tried many things for many, many months and finally decided to send you that cipher."

"But why a cipher so late?" said Corvo. "She knew that I would solve it in no time. She knew that waiting years would not help. She... probably even suspects of me returning." His voice grew hastier and quieter, as if he were speaking to himself. "She knows me quite well to predict that I would want to come back. But Celestia made that cipher to confuse me, I would bet. Does she have something else playing in the background: an underlying plan that I am oblivious to? What did she mean by that situational mention? She would not wait so long if it were not for the expected; therefore, I can safely say that she has some sort of predicament set for me. But to go through all of this trouble just to get to me? Unless..."

"Corvo, I am not a mute inspector," said the Outsider in a groan. "Well, normally I am, but not right now."

"I got it!" said Corvo, confidently looking to the Outsider, ignoring his annoyed remark. "There must be some other problem Princess Celestia is dealing with; and she wishes to have it solved—in some way or other that I have not figured out, that is. Think about it: why would she try to attract me so late? Celestia wants nothing but the well-being for her subjects and land; and when attempting to bring back a danger of which you are sure shall never return, you might as well shoot yourself in the foot. Therefore, I assume there is a second issue."

"Right," said the Outsider, sounding even more skeptical than before. "So would that explain the waiting?"

"I believe so."

The Outsider hummed to fill the silence in the tower, looking round in a guess. "But what about that letter?"

"That is something that I still need to think through," said Corvo disappointingly. "She would only wait so long for a good reason. If I were to place my coin on how well I understand Celestia's mindset, I will guess that she would start planning right away after I was gone. But the two-year hiatus means something else. That secret code, Outsider, is what I think to be a warning from her. Remember that this is all speculation."

"Very original," said the Outsider flatly. "But I prefer to wait this out and see where it all goes. What say you now, Corvo?"

"If I were to go now—" Corvo paused and sighed pessimistically. "If I were to go now, they would most likely attempt something very ugly. And the last thing I wish to do is to start a fight, however it may eventually end. I think I must go in there stealthily at first to gather adequate information regarding this stuff."

"I will send you now," said the Outsider. Oddly enough, he spoke in a lighter tone. "I cannot watch too closely, however. So that means you must return to the initial point of where you appear as a signal for me to bring you back. In other words: it is like last time."

Corvo unknowingly took a step forth, despite him not needing to. His reluctance to go was weighing upon his choice; but an even greater fear of remaining where he was seemed to be overwhelming. He pressed a fist over his chest—where his heart was—and briskly gestured for the Outsider to continue.

"You look very unwilling, Corvo," he said, "and incredibly saddened by this decision."

"I will think things through. As of now, I solemnly swear to not get cau—er, killed."

"No fun at all," said the Outsider, shaking his head. "But who am I to judge in the most impromptu moment?"

* * *

On the surface, it was nothing more than a culmination of high stone walls interconnected with one another to form Canterlot Castle, with overly-polished glass panes of multi-coloured reflections, great towers that watched like silent sentinels, and endlessly-flowing banners of white and gold all round the peaks of the castle and about the gardens. It truly seemed like a lovely place for residence; everything looked to be merry and promising.

Inside the castle, passing by the plethora of hallways and double doors, a very clear and cool mood lay in the air. It was neither ever too hot nor too cold, being the perfect place to get lost while wandering. It was as if a musk of paper and books lolled high up under the ceiling, especially near the Canterlot Royal Library. It was, as is the castle overall, very nice to see—all down to the pleasant smell and the subtly calming light.

But all of that stuff which the castle bore was now at the back of Corvo's mind. Despite the white light which invaded every corner of the buildings and rooms—and armor-plated guards gaited by every now and then—Corvo was an invisible shadow, whom no eye could perceive for even a second. From motionless chandelier to the clean, marble beams within the walls' heads, he flew by with literally no sound.

The sun was halfway across the weatherless sky, leading Corvo to sneak round the place for as slow as possible, seeing all that he could, and awaiting the night. For he had arrived in the morning, and intended to leave in the dark. But a grim nostalgia was set upon his shoulders. He felt uncomfortable and cross being in Equestria again after so long; but, at an odd unison, a voice in the back of his mind bit away at that uneasiness.

From an indoor ledge and with his back pressed to a great window, he thought: At this time, Celestia should be finishing her royal duties. That is, she would, if two years has not changed what she now does. But that is more specific towards my mission; for right now, I will focus on the basics. According to the tracks I saw, no train passed by since six days ago. No clouds that I can see from here, and none again for a few kilometers off. But does that mean not many pegasi have been doing their jobs as of lately? An alteration in schedule? Yes. I suspect that Celestia has grown just a tad bit more insecure of her surroundings. That must explain the place being more laden with guards and no clouds to block the view. But perhaps I am overthinking it.

Corvo waited unseen in the darkest places of the castle, casting his sight all over the hallways and just how many guards would wander by with stiff necks. It was as if everypony there were expecting something.

The patience soon paid off. As the last rays of light slanted down the many lips of windows, and a shadowy air grew about, dim, hasty hoof-steps drew up from the north. At first Corvo made out only one pony, but soon followed more of a ragged combination of thumps. There were two ponies, coming closer at a constant pace.

From a nearby angle a pair of alicorns emerged: Celestia and Luna—both to the incomprehensible surprise and furious concern of Corvo. He remained bent on his knees and watched from afar, keeping his head low. A sudden, almost motionless shock filled his heart. He grew tireless, frustrated, and confused. A reminder washed over him of how he said before that Celestia wrote the letter, that she was responsible for something or other, but that statement never convinced him personally. Secretly he was hoping to be wrong. He did not want to believe it, but the two ponies he most ambiguously resented were alive and well.

"We are finally here," said Celestia.

"I believe so," said Luna. "Can you tell me why we are in front of the Royal Library, and what do we plan on doing here?"

So that entrance leads to the main library, thought Corvo. Odd that the door's aesthetics have changed. Still, a lot can happen in two years.

"We are going to study," said Celestia restlessly. "Remember the after-effects I mentioned those few years ago? Well, the more I hung on that, the more I thought it to be true. And after much secrecy, I'm finally willing to tell you what may eventually happen."

"The only thing we all took from you were vague clues as to what you were chasing after," sighed Luna. "These past some years have been peaceful. Too peaceful, as a matter of fact. You mentioned this mysteriousness lingering around Equestria last month, and ever since we have been planning out this private meeting of ours. Now you can inform me of your discoveries after so long."

"I will," said Celestia. "Dark magic isn't something you want around for very long. Truly horrific things may cause other horrific things to resurface or emerge. But please, let's discuss this further in the library with an open book." She grabbed the door's golden handle with her magic and pulled back slowly. The two sisters temporarily stepped to the side as the library's distant pillars and books were revealed to them. The ceiling was high and arched, with many books placed within the walls, and many more shelves scattered in an organized fashion. Amid it all were long tables and wide chairs. They stepped inside and Celestia abruptly pulled her magic back to slam the door shut, but with as little noise as possible.

On the last second of reaction Corvo lit his Mark, bent time, and slipped in as fast as possible. When time resumed, he was lain upon a ledge where the highest pillar's head met the curved ceiling. The entrance door sharply locked its hinges in place. The first thing he heard was the echoing ticks of the clock hanging above his shoulder. He didn't bother for the time, however.

With a flick of their horns' light the two alicorns lit several dozen candles all about them, which hung aimlessly on pedestals or shelves. All possible light was used. Their burning wicks caught Corvo by surprise; he gazed at two ten-inch, parallel candles at either side of the main door, and his glass eyes gleamed in response. Celestia set down what looked to be an old book. It was grey, had a single black one in the center, and nothing else. For what seemed to be so important, the cover was very plain.

"Dark magic is essentially an entity of its own if we look at the technicalities," said Celestia in a low voice. "Remember what he heard back at the Crystal Empire, and our prior knowledge of how King Sombra used it? Remember that it spread those dark crystals? Sort of like a ripple in a pond, if you get me."

"I do," said Luna. "We know that Corvo used dark magic—or, at the very least, some subclass of it. But if that's the probable case, then what would be the specific effect?"

"I figured it out." Celestia swam through the papers with exact precision, landing directly on the one-hundredth page. There was a wall of text only. "I'll cut some time here: this talks about the effects dark magic has when a similar sort of thing is around it. Or maybe it could happen later on in the same location. Dark magic seeks its own power; therefore, I fear that we may have... can you guess?"

"Freed more dark magic?" said Luna, tapping her chin. "No, I do not think it would work like that. Remember back when King Sombra was attacking? It was reported that Twilight utilized dark magic. Even you demonstrated it to her. So why are they suddenly attracting now?"

Celestia hummed to herself, rapidly reading over the black ink. "No, something was different that day, though I'm not sure why. My guess is that the Crystal Heart was weakening his powers, in a way that would cause interference. But if some other dark magic came along that was unfamiliar with the Crystal Heart—a sort of type that was immune—then we would have a problem."

"Did Corvo know about this back then?" asked Luna. "And what do you think will happen now, according to this logic?"

"To answer your first question," answered Celestia solemnly, "I doubt Corvo knew. It was never his plan. His motivation for wanting to end us remains a mystery. As for the second question, we'll need to investigate further. Tomorrow morning I'll be heading to the Crystal Empire."

"But wait, Corvo arrived two years ago. If his magic would cause a reaction to Equestria's dark magic, why has nothing happened yet?" Luna took a glance at the book, then back to her sister. "Why all the sudden attention now?"

"That's what confuses me," said Celestia. "Things like this have happened before in pony history, though such events are beyond my memory. I think that there might be a trigger, or maybe there wasn't enough, or something. In any case, remembering back to this information two years ago, I had to study it."

"Unless," added Luna in a slow voice, "King Sombra returned, and he is deliberately waiting."

Celestia's eyes became clouded with fear, something that Luna had hardly ever seen. But before any of them could comment further, they heard several taps from a distant shelf. The two alicorns immediately turned to see a dark figure standing there, tall and still, with an arm against the bookshelf's lateral wall.

"What a tragedy," said Corvo venomously. "Not only do I see you damned princesses alive, unknown to me for so long, but it appears you have other problems to deal with now."

"Good to see you—with the joyous names, too," said Celestia calmly, as if expecting him to appear. Luna, however, stood on all fours and watched him intently. "Settle down, sister."

"But... ah... this is different, huh?" said Luna. She exhaled and dwindled back to her seat. "Last time you came I attacked right away, and everypony else was quite shocked. Now all is normal."

Corvo, within all doubt, was confused in the most unpleasant way. They were neither angry, nor scared, nor anything remotely wary of his presence. Luna just watched him, and Celestia went back to reading the book before her. It was as if they expected him.

"Last time I nearly had you both in permanent graves," said Corvo. "I show up again and you hardly care. I am suspicious. How come? Did you predict that I would come?"

"No," said Celestia, not looking at him. "You just revealed yourself now. I would never have known."

"You want me to believe you?" said Corvo. "Did you not send me that cipher?"

Celestia's ears perked. She cast a glance over him and raised an eyebrow. "Say again?" she said.

"The letter," said Corvo again. "An awaiting in a castle? Here. Residence in Equestria? This situation, which seems to be what you are in right now. Care to explain?"

"I should be asking that final question," said Celestia crossly. "You mean to say that you got some sort of message, and think that I sent it to you? Well then, when did you receive it?"

"Not too many days ago," said Corvo. He began to grow extensively worried. "So you did not write it?"

"Interesting," remarked Celestia. "We were just talking about you, though I'm sure you were eavesdropping just now. Would you like to know the details?"

Corvo tightened his jaw, gripped the flat sides of his mask roughly, and pulled it off. He flipped his hood back and slid the mask upon his belt. "What is wrong with you?" he asked, even more annoyed than before. "I almost killed you two years ago, and all you care about is giving me unnecessary information? How strange can one get?"

"Plenty," said Celestia flatly. "But we have some talking to do. What I was discussing concerned your past actions. I think you would find a lot of curiosity in this."

"How do you know that I will not try to kill you again?" he asked dubiously.

"Try to be a little optimistic, will you," said Luna. "You just mentioned some message that you have received, and that it led you here. But I personally will confirm that none of us had to do with anything concerning some nonsense of a secret cipher."

"Well sooth," said Corvo. "Then let us have a conversation!" He suddenly rushed to the table, though neither of the princesses flinched. He sat across them and rested an elbow on the wooden surface. "Neither any stalling nor subtle lies. Truthful but quick," he added.

"First thing's first," said Luna: "why did you try and kill us?"

"You know of the Outsider, the supposed spirit of chaos like your Discord?" he asked. Corvo wanted to get rid of any doubt as fast as possible.

The two of them nodded slowly.

"Good," continued Corvo. "He was able to, as I would say, send his mind into the future. He told me that he witnessed a war between my country and Equestria."

"You don't seem that terribly convinced," interrupted Celestia. "Excuse me. Please continue."

"I, uh... I-I thought of things," he stuttered with a sigh. "Sorry, but I cannot continue—not with you two so calm and collected to see me again. I need to know what is going on!"

"And we are just as surprised that you didn't try to kill us again," said Celestia. "We'll explain shortly. Please continue."

"Very well." Corvo nearly stumbled upon his next words, for he spoke them in great speed. "There was a war coming. Why? It was revealed that, many years from now, multi-dimensional magic would be invented, however it is going to work. Somepony here would accidentally come to my country and start a war. The end result shall not be pretty, I would guess."

"How admirable," said Celestia almost contemptuously, as though she wished to end the conversation right there and now. "You wanted to protect your world by killing us. Understandable, but only under certain circumstances. You could have at least informed us so long ago."

"Such diplomacy can be tremendously complicated," said Corvo. "But it does not matter now. The reason I came back was because of the mysterious letter, coincidentally at the same time where you decided to reveal this 'dark magic' business concerning me. That is why I am not attacking now: because I feel the need to learn of it, and of that letter. It spoke of giving me condolences in regards to an upcoming situation."

"Oh, I see now," said Celestia. She took a deep breath and stared hard at him. "Listen to me, Corvo, for these next words are crucial. When you arrived and later on used your magic, it caused another sort of dark magic here to react. For a while now we thought that the last evil ruler of this bad sort—King Sombra—was defeated. But due to your usage of that unique mark right there, we believe it to be some dark magic: like a positive in mathematics. King Sombra's was negative. A positive and a negative, when together, just equals a negative."

"A little tasteless on the analogy," opined Corvo. "Anyway, are you saying that there can be another evil at work? If so, then why that message?"

"We are almost as clueless as you are," said Luna.

"Of course," agreed Celestia. "Corvo, we still need to reveal a lot of things; but we mostly want to know of this letter."

"It was a cipher that said residence in Equestria," he said, rubbing a palm over his forehead. "I thought that it was written by you. The writing style—might have been magic."

An aghast expression abruptly washed over Celestia's demeanor. She ground her teeth and looked back to the front door, as if dependently wanting for no one to come through. She quickly stared at Corvo and said: "I think I'm right then. When you left Equestria, something may have followed you there. My hypothesis is that the entire time you were being stalked unconditionally. I think that letter came from your own country. Somepony out there is possibly working against Equestria under notion."

"Now that I go over that educated guess, it makes some sense—if I knew more." Corvo ran his thoughts over any possibilities with what he had heard. "So you think that I activated some sort of evil entity in Equestria?"

"Uniquely so, yes," said Celestia. "By you alone; but don't let that discourage you. See, the reason I think something followed you was because of your magic's attraction. It was as if all the things that are happening now were timed accordingly. Unfortunately for you, but perhaps your own place may be in danger."

Corvo stood up, looking round him with deep eyes. "So I reckon you may need some help with the progress?" he asked.

"It would help," said Luna wearily. "But we are still unsure of you."

Corvo was about to respond, though he involuntarily hesitated. Something in his mind held back all possible curiosity of what they were discussing. He would hate to admit it, but a supposed evil stalker frightened him. Was something really following him for over two years, and he did not know of it?

"You have my word," said Celestia softly.

Corvo looked at her sharply. "Word on what?"

"That if we ever somehow manage to get into your world, that we will not start a war," said Celestia again. "That if somepony here, or I myself gets into wherever it is you live, that I'll look over anything that can trigger a war and stop it. For any reasonable cause, I'll do everything in my power to prevent this imminent war if possible."

Corvo felt lightheaded. A warmness spread about him, something that he had not felt for a long time. "Why such haste for that sort of promise?" he said, but quickly realized that those words had no purpose. "But thank you. Right now, though, I am not sure who to trust."

"Wait, wait," said Luna. "We are sure that some sort of dark magic is around Equestria again, all because of Corvo. It might affect Equestria and his own place. But at the moment Tia had adequate enough information on the matter and decided to reveal it to me was the exact same time Corvo obtained a letter motioning him to come here. Is it me, or is that a very odd coincidence?"

The library went black. Every single lantern and glowing flame puffed out in an instance. There was no sound, no movement, and no light. Even the extremely faint noise of the chill wind outdoors became mute. And for a lasting minute, none of them said a word.

Celestia lit her horn, conveniently but not too bright. The three were surrounded by darkness, and all they could see was the table before them, the old book, and the silhouettes of several high shelves.

"I never though I'd say this," she said, "but glad to have you back, Corvo. I fear that this wasn't a coincidence, and that something very, very bad just occurred. And worse of all, everything that I said might have come true."

Chapter 2: A Guarded Moment

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

Chapter 3: Decreasing Loudness

"Very nice to receive some good news for once!" said Corvo with a nod of his head. He had turned round and proceeded to wander out a lateral door. "But like I said, I can walk just fine, and I must see where the Crystal Heart would normally be kept—as soon as possible, of course."

The room was still and mute, save for his heavy, disproportionate foot-steps. He leaned in on the right side of a double door, and with a grunt slid it outwards. A chill push of air greeted his face. Beyond was a dark-blue corridor, painted by dark shadows stretching to an arched opening.

Corvo looked back and said again: "Nothing to add? Well, these are dark times indeed. I need to think, too." He was about to leave, but his movements lagged. He raised an eyebrow, suddenly feeling the weight of his greatcoat; and he noticed Celestia's stone-still expression, as well as Luna's, who was by her sister's side, reading over the scroll.

Corvo waited ten seconds, his gaze fixed upon the two alicorns; but nothing happened. They neither acknowledged him nor said a single word. "I better not ask," he said at length. "Deal with whatever problem you may have there yourself. I ought to be busying myself very soon."

"Corvo," said Celestia monotonously, as if she were half dreaming. She looked towards him, and suddenly her teeth began to show, pressing tightly over one another.

"Oh dear," said Luna, quickly trotting to Corvo. She halted abruptly and creased her brow, and cried: "The plan didn't work! This—this has all been in vain!" She bowed her head and slammed a hoof to the slabbed floor, visibly spreading a web of cracks upon impact. The solid jolt echoed about them.

"Her plan or mine?" he asked, switching his glance between both sisters. "Either one and there would still be a problem."

"Forget about your plan, or your criticism!" snapped Celestia, whipping the paper onto the floor. "This was all my fault. I pushed everything out the door. I needed more time to evaluate how the guards could have handled the situation." She sighed heavily and walked past them both—quickly.

"Celestia," called Luna, chasing after her, "where are you—"

"There's no time to weep over this," said Celestia with reserve. Then, in a distant voice, she said: "There's too much going on. We both have to send off orders immediately. We need to get to Ponyville. That's our first priority!"

"First priority to Ponyville?" said Corvo under his breath. He gaited back to the center of the room with a struggle to look over the long paper. He bent down to pick it up, but a mental resistance told him otherwise. He shook his head and nabbed the scroll without hesitation. He unraveled it and hastily scanned over its words.

"What the hell?" he whispered. Dark magic surrounded Canterlot? Does he mean more of that pernicious black smoke? Wait, if that were true, then that smoke shall arrive faster to Ponyville than I thought. But how would Sombra anticipate such a move?

Corvo's eyes narrowed. His hand twisted the paper in all directions, as if attempting to find some other hidden message. He crumbled the scroll, draped it deep into his pocket, and glanced over to the opened doorway, which cast a shadow that nearly touched his boots.

This paper is familiar, he thought at length. It has the same texture and look of the initial ciphered letter. Given the context, it is even more likely that that message derived from Equestria. That puts me to some comfort; but is it true that King Sombra has been on my neck for the last two years? If so, how would he pull off such a scheme without being noticed? Seems easy on paper, but— he lowered his shoulders, realizing how tensed he'd been. Corvo made his way to the tall door, thinking: but ideas on paper are not the same as its execution in full.

Corvo quietly snorted and burst into a speedy gait towards the door; but he froze with a grunt, feeling sharp bites of pain all over him. Realizing his condition, he hunched his back and slowly walked out of the room.

The air in the hallway was frozen—or, at the very least, it was as still as it could have been. With so much worry lolling about, and the rustling that he heard forth, Corvo had expected several guards to have flown by him. The path he took, so broad it could have counted for a separate room entirely, felt as if it was unused for a long time.

Corvo turned round a corner and spotted the four alicorns forming a circle, pained looks highlighting their faces. Every once in a while Shining Armor would pass by, rather quickly, to enter the adjacent room; and the longer he stared, the more he noticed just how many ponies draped in white coats strode by.

After all that, Corvo called at length, standing against a pillar: "What are you to do, Celestia?"

Celestia seemed to whisper something to Luna, who gave a nod and went off on her own course. Celestia didn't even look at Corvo, all of her concentration focused solely on a single task. Twilight and Cadence continued to discuss soft words that he couldn't make out. More armored ponies came in, buckets of water carefully balanced in their magical grasps.

"What are you to do?" asked Corvo again.

Celestia, for a very instance, shot him a glassy stare, and swept across from him, stopping in front of a double door. They swung open, revealing six gold-and-black armored unicorns, stoically positioning themselves to form two lines, one on either side of the princess.

"Go," she said to them. "Meet by the locomotive and make mental preparations before I arrive with you in the hour."

They each bowed once and ran to the outside, hastily and almost unprofessionally. Corvo had noticed what came out of the entrance, or the lack thereof: sunlight. It was something he had expected, and he soon knew why.

"I wonder," began Corvo, walking towards Celestia, "do ponies in Equestria lose their customary notion of etiquette when put under stress?"

"Forgive me, Corvo, but I don't have time to digress," said Celestia passively; "but... hmm, I'll make an exception. What is it?"

"I looked over the letter," he said. "If you truly believe that you shall get something more valuable than dirt, be conscious of it. Going to Ponyville is suicidal. At best, you will return alive—alone."

"And what do you know?" said Celestia with hidden vexation. "You hardly have any knowledge in dealing with Sombra and his magic, unless you count the few books you've read. I have had first-hoof experience with it, so whether or not you agree with my strategic capabilities, they are going to happen."

"Debrief me on them."

"Walk with me first," said Celestia, slipping into the outdoors. Corvo quickly followed suit, pushing the burning pain in his ribs to the back of his mind. "I intend to reach Ponyville ahead of what Sombra might have predicted. While it won't stop it completely, a magical force field should slow down the black smoke. In the meantime, I'll try to save as many ponies as possible."

"That is your plan, the whole of it, from start to finish?" said Corvo, underwhelmed. "There is no structure to it, no way for you to save everyone. Have you even decided as to where you will take them, and have you planned in advance for any kind of unpredictability?" As he spoke, Corvo glanced ahead, beyond the low trees they passed by. He spotted a tall locomotive, hot sparks jutting from its engine.

"Those details will get resolved on the trip," said Celestia, "which shouldn't take more than three or four hours. I have instructed Princess Luna, as well as the others, to continue to round up parties for the evacuation of other cities."

"And to where shall they be taken, should this smoke engulf all of Equestria?"

"Underground, where there's a tunnel system, most likely, if we have no other option; in fact, there's an entrance leading below, adjacent to the Crystal Castle," said Celestia, though Corvo noticed an edge of fear in her tone. "I'm working to the best of my capabilities, Corvo. There's only one way to beat Sombra, and that's to stop his weapon. But my number one priority is the safety of every single pony in Equestria. So for now, they must be taken beyond the borders."

"Then hurry yourself to avoid that very prospect, but be wary of what you have in mind," said Corvo. He stopped in place, sighing heavily. Celestia hesitated, slowing down to look back at Corvo, as if expecting him to come along with her. "I did not talk about this earlier, as to avoid any sort of vain conflict, but I am suspicious, Celestia."

"Of what?" she asked considerately.

"I am always attempting to cover every angle of a situation. Back in the library, when I woke up: I noticed something was off. There was that book, and the way the illusion worked, and Sombra's words. You spoke nothing of it, instead choosing to superficially command me in regards to what you wanted. Well then, shall you tell me?"

Celestia felt a vein in her neck twitch. She felt her wings grow heavy, and the air hot. Right now, though, she was too preoccupied with the current objective. Her throat felt dry; she swallowed and said: "Whatever it is you're going on about, Corvo, stop it. Right now! This isn't a sandbox for your own bemusement." She shifted uneasily, feeling the stone beneath her hooves tremble.

Corvo clicked his tongue, as if disappointed, and crossed his arms. "Alright then," he said. "I will have to discern these contrived events myself." A short silence fell upon them afterwards.

She shook her head, turned round, and headed forth at a faster pace.

On his way back Corvo took notice of the underground entrance Celestia mentioned, next the Crystal Castle. Seemed like sort of like a trap door, apparently leading off into some tunnel. It looked awfully out-of-place.

* * *

Corvo entered the foyer again. He was greeted by the smell of ash; and he noticed the several torches hanging from the walls, all of which highlighted bright spots of light upon the sable floor below them. He proceeded down the room, his hands deep in his pockets, his head low in thought.

Luna revealed herself from behind one of the many pillars, a view of weary disappointment on her face. She looked back and nodded, followed by a few hoof-falls to fade away. She turned back to Corvo and said: "Did she tell you where she is going?"

"It is what she did not tell that worries me," sighed Corvo.

Luna raised an eyebrow. "What did you ask her?"

For a moment, Corvo remained still with a gleam in his eyes. He then walked to Luna and eyed her down cautiously, as if expecting her to suddenly attack him.

"I remember the initial illusion," he said. "I know King Sombra specializes in fear—"

"Dark magic," corrected Luna. "Fear is something that he finds pleasure in to exploit."

"Dark magic," repeated Corvo in a low voice. "Yes, yes, I remember reading about the different types of magic during my time here." He gazed from the corner of his eyes, shook his head, and continued. "To be perfectly blunt, I am suspicious of Celestia."

Luna blinked at first, piercing him with her gaze. "Do you truly believe that you are in such a position to be calling out suspicions?" she asked. "And besides, why ask me this? Should you not think that whatever shenanigans my sister is going on about, she would inform me on them?"

"Up to this point, she has done a lot without your knowing," said Corvo. He looked into the distance of the room, letting his eyes wander about the black shadows caused by the many-pillared halls, and the yellow beams of light spewing from open doorways. "However, I would like to know what you two were doing during my hallucinatory state."

"We were attempting to figure out the most sound location to head to first," said Luna.

"Why not wake me up first? I noticed that many changes had occurred when you soaked me in that ice water."

"Could you explain?"

"I do not need to," said Corvo. "By the fact itself, you waited until you awoke me; but do any of you ponies learn that the subtlest details are the most vivid ones?—to me, at the very least. Celestia had that original grey book put away into the shelves by the time I came to my senses. For a short time, I thought that that book was just part of the dream, and that your sister was reading into some sort of spell. But whatever it was, she took her time to place it back exactly where she found it. Why is that? Surely, if you were rummaging through such important details, you would not waste a solitary second to put them back where you found them."

"Okay, I will play your little game here," said Luna with an edge of resentment. "Perhaps Princess Celestia did not want other ponies looking through that book."

"But we were hastened. Why waste time?"

"We already wasted enough time. Sombra trapped us into that illusion for hours."

But Corvo was silent with a shadow over his face, either in despair or anxious thought. "If I am wrong, then..." he looked to her and hummed in thought. "Why did you raise the moon by the time the illusion was over? I do mean why go through the trouble first, and all that."

"That's the thing," said Luna curiously. "By the time I awoke, it was upon the east horizon. When we raise are respective celestial bodies, they remain in the skies, moving on their own from east to west. Upon the edge of the latter, we lower ours, and the other raises theirs. By the time we had entered that library, the sun was in the midst of the sky. After many hours, Celestia woke me. She said that she had to quickly raise the moon, for it was nearly too late already."

"That grey book still does not fit in properly with what I see. As I see it, you are denying all the facts just to defend your sister's name. Can you not just assume that, quite possibly, Celestia is planning something much bigger?" But before she could respond, Corvo fell to his knees. He clutched both of his hands, and the corners of his vision began to darken. "Of all the moments..." he breathed.

Luna hurried to his side, sinking a hoof under his arm. "Corvo, are—"

"We will question Celestia when she gets back," he answered, clumsily rising to his feet. "Perhaps my injuries are finally taking their toll on me."

"Stellar observation," deadpanned Luna.

Corvo nearly chuckled at the remark; however, he looked down to view his hands, which were shaking uncontrollably, only fueling his worriment. "I need to—" he began, but his throat tightened. "Somewhere... to... lie down!"

Luna hastily ignited her horn, draped them both in her magic, and teleported to the the medical room. Immediately Corvo went limp, falling down on his back and hitting a fortunate bed. He looked round the room, seeing that there were several rows of low beds, all next to wooden stools with glasses of water. While most were empty, several of the beds there lain wounded guards, all on their sides with white wrappings round their waists.

Corvo let out a sigh of relief, and, without a sense of alarm, said: "Much obliged."

"What happened with you just now?" she asked with profound concern, though directed more to her than him.

"Nothing worth noting," said Corvo calmly, his tone gradually becoming lighter as the strain in his chest dwindled. "But, if you are to insist on knowing, that was an anxiety attack."

"And what would warrant an anxiety attack from you?" she asked

"I hardly understand the reasoning of it myself," he replied, looking straight at her with a sympathetic air. "And I apologize for this."

"For what? These guards here that you nearly killed?"

"Yes—for the guards who nearly killed me."

"I'm still a bit hazy on what you were trying to accomplish," pressed on Luna with curious annoyance. "A clever one would not attempt the same approach as your second arrival, with you trying to gain our trust by telling us that you meant no harm, which would only heighten our paranoia."

"Which was the intention from the beginning," said Corvo. "At a different angle, that would be the repetition of trying a different balance: to come at you ponies, yet again, but differently. I suspected that such an idea, as was Celestia's initial suggestion, would be thought around. Therefore, by going through the same plan as last time—"

"I understand your reasoning," said Luna, almost without meaning to interrupt, but more out of oblivious persistence; "however, did you not foresee that such events could have turned out to be a little more than non-violent?"

With a glimmer of defeat in his eyes, Corvo replied: "Yes... yes, I am not the best person to consult should you desire a quick-thought plan that is fully functional."

"Whatever you may say," said Luna, tossing the debate aside. "Either you knew that we knew, or even further upon, is anypony's guess. At least no pony was killed and we are all here—will be here eventually, anyway." She took a moment to glance sideways, looking over the unconscious guards, and finally looked back to Corvo. "What about those anxiety attacks you so mentioned? You spoke as if they were nothing new under the sun."

"Nor moon," he said. "Like I have said: I do not understand the logic of it. These 'panics' have started only a month ago; they reoccurred twice before, and now it was the third." He stared gloomily at his Mark and clenched his fist. There was a brief pause where none said a word. "That is the trouble they bring," he started again, looking back at Luna for subconscious comfort: "they leave me feeling vulnerable, almost like an attack done by an opponent, on my heart and from afar, where I am unable to see."

"Did you at least talk to a doctor?"

"Of course. They correlate with, perhaps, some traumatic experience as a child, or thoughts of depression, or worriment. Generally speaking, that is all true, whichever way you wish to look at it. Despite the facts, and me telling you now, twice, that I have no exact understanding as to why they physically occur, I have been feeling somewhat..." He breathed in a moment to search for the right word. "I have been feeling a little bit—maybe, maybe not—detached."

"Detached," echoed Luna. She arched an eyebrow and processed the word with quick results. "I hope this doesn't dampen your usefulness."

"Not at all," said Corvo. He reached over at his side to grab the glass of water, but it was met halfway to him by Luna's magic. He took it and drank quickly, and let out a heavy sigh afterwards. "Most of the time, if I am to say the full truth."

"Did it affect your physical skills? Your combat?"

"No, not that. Although, do not completely judge me based on that fight alone with the guards. The anatomy of you ponies is extraordinarily different than that of mine own."

"Anatomy?"

Corvo set the glass down onto the floor and hunched his shoulders, his face now pale with the profound sensation of the premonition that something were to happen to him, something unexpected. He cast a glance down the hallway, but he wasn't sure why. "That is correct," he continued with extreme readiness. "In terms of bone mass and muscle tissue, yours is far more durable than my own. I felt it against the guards, it was like fighting statues, very difficult to move."

Luna took in that information with a certain curiosity, and concluded: "Well, small talk has been interesting, but not much achieved. I will be on my way, Corvo. By morning my sister should be back, and I hope you will be well on your boots."

* * *

No, something indeed was wrong, but not negatively, not in the way you'd attempt to avoid for the sake of your own well being; something was neutrally wrong, out of place than what was expected. The greatest fear is the fear of the unknown, and Corvo himself took that statement to a careful analysis. When a particular detail was off its mark, yet subtle enough so you wouldn't notice it directly, just be aware, he always sought to discover it. That was, when his premonition of a force calling to himself could not be ignored, Corvo, in the middle of the night, rose from his bed in a cautious state of intrigue.

The Mark on his left hand buzzed irritably, which is what awoke him in the first place.

That does it, he thought, now wandering out of the room and into the hallway. I need to know more about this... this thing, in this very castle. Hmm, where is that magic coming from... here? No. Ah, I sense its presence from downstairs. I still have my coat on, so here I come.

It should also be noted that Corvo had indeed come to the conclusion that it would be impossible for either Celestia or Luna to have raised the moon early, as if this were true, other ponies would have seen this and surely commented on the strange occurrence. This was not the case.

He descended to what looked to be a basement, a small one, with boxes, stools, and pieces of furniture stacked against the walls, either on top one another or in rows. At the far end of this room was a tall mirror, one where you could view your entire body.

Corvo stood in front of his own reflection and suddenly began to survey the mirror up and down, unsure of where else to be. It was as if her were there out of spite, besides himself. Eventually he grew confused.

"Why did I even come down here?" he said. The buzzing from his hand had already vanished. "Perhaps something here was of magical properties, which caused some form of reaction. Either way, maybe this whole little trip was pointless. Ah, since it should take another three minutes to get back to my bed, I should contemplate on what to do, or what to consider true. Moving your legs does some good for contemplating, after all."

He was about to leave, if not for a glimmer, one that beamed in a fraction of a second, swept along the mirror's surface. Fortunately he caught hold of it, and now with more interest than ever before stood face-to-face with his reflection. At once, as if on instinct, he tapped the mirror; the point where his finger hit there was a distortion, and what followed were wavering rings of light expanding, one by one, covering the entire silver surface. It was a strange ripple effect that went on for several seconds, then calmed to a quietness.

"So this is a magic mirror," said Corvo in a flat voice, as if knowing it all along. "Actually, that explains nothing at all." He went searching for a small object to pick up, and settled on a roll of duck tape that he found on a table. The Crystal Heart was here before my arrival; however, by the time Celestia and I hopped off the train, the Heart was missing. That means Sombra used this opportunity to steal it, the opportunity where every other pony was distracted. So his entire plan was set forth by making us realize that this Crystal Heart was taken, spreading our numbers thin in the hope to go looking for it, or that is what I get from it. In all this thinking Corvo had wandered to the mirror, holding the roll of duck tape before him. It was convenient that he had read about magic mirrors two years ago.

He threw the tape in, which itself spread another ripple of light. The surprise came almost instantly: he heard a thud on what seemed to be a carpet.

"So there is another side to things," he said. Wait, what I just said is impossible. Sombra would never be able to steal the Crystal Heart recently, since there were far too many ponies here by this time. When was it that the Crystal Empire was at its most vulnerable? Ah, yes, back at my second arrival, where we all met for that talk in Canterlot: that time was perfect to steal the Heart. It is the only realistic juncture. Though, to not cause any disbelief, he could have created a substitute, which is why none of them noticed. But now we know that it was stolen, so if what I say is true, did he take the fake one, leading us astray from the real Heart? This is all very possible. Oh, yes, this mirror: I should not be looking through, but for the sake of it... I guess this will take me to another room.

Corvo was almost entirely convinced at the effectiveness of this mirror, and he was right: he stuck his head in, and nearly tripped from the dumbfound air of shock that washed over him. He was looking into his own home!

He pulled back and now examined the mirror as meticulously as he could, every once in a while drifting off in thought at the implausible implications this carried. "How does this lead back to my world!" he said in a loud undertone. "Was it... was this... did it..." He was interrupted by incredibly faint knocks, coming from the mirror itself.

Is someone knocking on my door? he thought. It was brief in his mental process, but he decided to question it later and step through, if only to be back in his house.

Once there, he looked back and viewed an identical mirror leaning in his wall. It was never a decoration he remembered applying.

"Back so soon, Corvo?" said the Outsider, rapidly materializing through the adjacent wall; he smiled an ironic smile, now in intense wonder. "Well, I suppose there is a relationship between experience and competence."

"You said Equestria had yet to find a way into this world, that multi-dimensional magic was not discovered," reproached Corvo in complete vexation, and with a determined thought, as is when you are too sensible to gaze at a particular person in order to manage time, he walked by, yet still awaited a response.

The Outsider's thin smirk contorted into a frown, and his black eyes lowered into a rare confusion. "Pardon?" he said, now following Corvo from behind. "I gave you the idea because that is what I saw."

"Then bring the handkerchief to dry your tears, because you were wrong. Well, it hardly makes a difference, whether or not this was possible would not affect the need to kill those alicorns." He held a palm over his eye. "Still, how could you have an oversight this glaring?"

"Corvo," sighed the Outsider, crossing his arms, "this is exactly what I got from my look into the future. This is what they were doing for a first. There is absolutely no way anyone can cross into Dunwall from Equestrian soil."

"Then how did I get here?"

With blunt force the whole of the situation came into view for the Outsider. He looked back, hummed in thought, and shrugged his shoulders; but now, on the verge of indignation, he inquired: "How did you get back?"

"There was a magic mirror," said Corvo. But before he could add any more explanation, three resounding knocks pounded on his front door. "Perhaps I can explain later, and you need to go, but not for long, we need to have a serious discussion about this. For now, I need to see who wants what at... er, what is the time exactly?"

"It is five in the morning, on the dot... and please do not talk to me like that, Corvo; you never can be sure what is awaiting for you round a dark corner," said the Outsider, but he spoke with an odd lack of enthusiasm, the type that normally hung in his voice, in the cynical sort of way, and as he announced all this his figure turned into black smoke, and that itself quickly vanished from sight.

Corvo rolled his eyes and opened the door, and standing at entrance mat was none other than Serath himself. The latter was tucked in a grey overcoat and a purple scarf, which gave him a hard look, yet his eyes were intent and certainly welcoming.

"Oh, Serath, mate," said Corvo. "Why are you out on a time like this, and at my house of all places?"

"You hardly look exhausted," said Serath, "if not a little alert. As a matter of fact, I just noticed that your right arm clutches closer to your ribs than your left. Are you in some sort of pa—"

"No," interrupted Corvo in an almost impatient demeanor, but for the sake of it, he added a second time: "No."

Serath rubbed the back of his head and laughed. "Ah, yes, here I am getting all worked up like I usually do. Sorry. Really, I do have a reason for being here: there was an... accident at the local library, and because of this unfortunate accident, many of the residents within the area were evacuated for safety purposes. You see, we believe that a man's cigarette fell onto some spilled alcohol, which latched onto several books, and that escalated—that is to say, the library burned down."

"Oh, I see."

"You sound reasonably nonchalant!"

"Apologies for that, Serath, but in the past day or two I have been down in the dumps, relatively speaking, which is why you haven't seen me as of late. I have not even left the house for a while now."

"Is work catching up with you?"

"Not entirely. Is that all you came here for?"

"Did you forget?"

"Right, right! We always did meet up over to that specific table in the library for some whiskey. Hmm, I guess that's over."

"I only meant to come over at this time since, as it goes, you hardly ever sleep. Folk can mistaken you for an owl, a black owl. Maybe that is where you got your name!" he ended with a laugh.

"Corvo translates to crow, so close enough." But a habitual instinct rushed into Corvo, and despite all of what had happened, he still valued good manners over most things. "Would you like to come in?"

"Well, thank you for the invitation. I was going to head off back home, but my kids should still be sleeping, or I hope so. It is the weekend after all. In other words, of course!"

Their conversation proceeded indoors. Corvo was now setting a fire at the hearth, carefully placing the logs where he liked, and Serath himself seemed more comfortable standing up.

"Winter is lasting longer than I had hoped for," said Corvo in a low voice, igniting the spark which illuminated the room. He glanced back and inquired: "Cold?"

"Not more than I can handle," said Serath readily. "The news of the library came at quite a shock; cleaning up should take up a month, or more."

"You know, with enough persuasion, we ourselves could scavenge the library's ashes. We can even place bets on what we find."

"I am sure the authorities are doing that."

"Which is why I mentioned the 'persuasion' part," said Corvo, waving off the excuse. "What sounds more fun?"

"You, uh, you are certainly acting a lot more different than usual," exclaimed Serath with a smile. "I say it's for the better; you always did come off as a little safe."

"Three years ago and my job was a royal bodyguard," said Corvo, "which nearly killed me, even then, persecuted. Excuse me for the shift on my outlook." They both shared a laugh. "Okay, okay, how about some tea? It would only take a moment to make."

"Sure, but after this I really do need to get going."

Corvo stopped, stared in puzzlement, and said: "You need to go? Serath, if you were in a rush, why accept my invitation?"

Serath blushed, now finding his position to be rather inconsequential. He chuckled with a hand behind his head, though perhaps he just realized how comical this situation turned out to be. "Ah, yes, but I did not want to be rude, so I accepted to come in."

Corvo sighed, hardly able to keep himself from laughing, and suddenly rolled his eyes with relief. "Well then, if you must know, I asked for you to come in so I did not come off as rude."

"I thought moments like these only existed in novels!" laughed Serath. "Heh, then we should not delay this any further. Regardless, at least you know about the library, which is what matters. Goodbye. Oh, and will I ever see you again tomorrow? My wife and her friends were going to go bowling, so if you wish to join..."

Corvo now attempted to make the unconventional statement that he could not, for all the reasons, bowl, to come off reasonable as possible: "I would love to, really, but these feelings I've had about work—like I confirmed—has been getting particularly serious. There is this one case far up north that I cannot for the life of me solve! I should be indoors, at the shortest, all week. I do hope you understand." And I also hope that the rest of this week is enough time for the ponies to get rid of Sombra.

"Hmm, that all makes sense," said Serath. "Just remember what I recommended in regards to your anxiety. Balance your consumption of sugar and salt, and do keep busy with something that is worthy of a person's time."

"I will," replied Corvo with a nod of his head. "Thank you."

Now this is the part in the story where events, for all intents and purposes, take an unbelievably unexpected turn. At first this "turn," if we can call it that, when put in place with earlier context, appears to be extremely arbitrary, but the timing was so precise, and what happened after so consequential, that this argument simply isn't possible.

Serath had opened the door, and he was about to head off, if not for the black aurora that enveloped both men. There was no build up to it, hardly a warning: like a hand this sudden magic began to pull the two into the house, out of the room with the mantle and in the corridor. And this didn't act like a single rope pulling on a rag doll, this was more of off-distance levitation spell carrying them.

Serath was too surprised to say anything directly, merely looking round with wide eyes and a pale face; he wasn't sure whether to look at Corvo or the mirror they were approaching. He even kept muttering words in disbelief, trying to make sense of it all, but his rationality kept interrupting him, causing an overlap in what he meant: whenever he got three or four words into a sentence, he would start another.

Yet Corvo, like he hadn't noticed at all, and with all the annoyance in the world, said out loud: "Damn, of all things that could happen..."

The two were thrown into the mirror by the magic, leaving a trail of rippling light, which then disappeared and settled to a normal-looking mirror with incredible rapidity.

Serath was still dumbfounded as ever, looking round with an unfocused gaze; Corvo himself sprang to his feet, swept a hand over the mirror, only for the disappointment of absolutely nothing happening. He too was in a state of agitation, more so even.

"Is this what you meant by that 'work,' if you can call it that?" asked Serath in surprise, though his voice was that of genuine curiosity. "Where are we?"

Corvo stared back at his friend in extreme awkwardness, sweat dripping off his pale face. He inhaled once, swiveled his wrist round a bit as to start up the conversation, but was notably at a lost.

"Promise me to not be alarmed," he began at length, coming off as far more saddened than what he actually was, "but I need to tell you a truth, the most outlandish truth you will ever hear."

"Nothing can be more outlandish than Holly Whistle's hatred towards you."

"Okay, the second most outlandish truth you will ever hear."

"Or what about our last chess game where you accidentally mistook the king for the bishop?"

"The third most outlandish—the point is," Corvo now spoke in feverish haste, "the point is, we are in another world, if you can believe it."

There was a tense silence that hung in the air. Serath himself, while alarmed, smiled inappropriately; a triumphant acceptance of the whole situation became clear in his glittering eyes, like he absolutely believed his friend without a second thought. He nodded his head and proclaimed: "I am sort of aware that magic exists, according to my studies, but this, of all the ideas I could have contrived, is very out there."

"I know."

"I mean, that is to say, I believe you, but you'll need to elaborate." He took off his scarf and wrapped it round his waist, mostly out of habit. "But don't you think that calling this a whole separate world is an overstatement? We certainly did get swept away into a mirror, which is physically impossible, but this room looks rather ordinary. It doesn't necessarily inspire any creativity, if you get my meaning."

"Serath," said Corvo in the utmost deliberation to put the focus solely on what he said, "this was honestly a complete mistake, but just as important, I never expected for some magical force to take us away, you especially. This world is known as Equestria, and they face a threat that has the potential to destroy everything here. You really didn't need to find out."

"Then what does this have to do with you?"

"Well, you see... I, uh... complications may arise from that."

"Corvo," said Serath in a sympathetic voice, one that suggested complete understanding, and even a little excitement, "you never did shift your outlook, did you? No? Oh, what wonders, you are even more adventurous than I thought! I simply must exchange words with the people here, there is so much to learn! Yes?"

"But here comes the outlandish part: they are talking ponies."

Serath proceeded to reply, but for a second no words came out of his mouth, merely choosing to rub a finger under his chin, raise a skeptical eyebrow, and stare with mocking eyes. "Talking ponies? Hmm, hmm, in a place like this I would give you a psychological cross-examination to determine whether you're all there or not, but we did go through a mirror into a room that should not exist, so... I am at a loss here. How did you come in contact with Equestria? Were you summoned?"

"No, not that," said Corvo with a fixed look, yet averting his gaze every few seconds to the ground, but this was due to complete worriment rather than embarrassment.

"Then what did occur?"

"I was here once before, and I too found it to be ridiculous, but... ah, come now, Serath, your persistence is terribly cruel!"

"Fine then, I will try to understand," said Serath in a passive tone. "At the very least, tell me what your purpose is here at the present."

"Perhaps we should head upstairs so none of the, er, ponies—" he cringed at that word "—can understand. But please do not mistaken this for any sort of mutual friendship. The trust here is wobbly at best."

"I do think that introductions would be a logical step," said Serath, fidgeting with the base of his sleeves.

The two men wandered up the stairs and found themselves in a hallway; and Corvo, while he led the way, was on the verge of hyperventilating, his head was bowed with a grey shadow over his face, almost unable to bear the pressure of confronting the ponies with a completely random stranger. Not only was this struggle with the magic mirror unexpected, even less welcomed—and it raised far too many uncomforting questions—there was absolutely nothing Corvo could have done with Serath. The latter would continue with his curious questions, it'd be impossible to hide him, and his presence was a horrible disturbance to the situation with Sombra. All of the bad luck had begun to unceremoniously pile onto Corvo.

Serath, however, followed behind with dancing eyes, wondering at the foreign architecture, and how expensive it all looked. They then passed through a double door into the foyer room of the castle.

"I do not want to come off as unpleasant," began Corvo, "but this right now, with you being here, is extremely inconvenient. They will have a hard time adjusting to you."

"They adjusted to you, no?"

"You can say that. But to be fair, their leader, Princess Celestia, was expecting me to come."

"Then why would they not trust you?"

"Because the things that are happening right now, this threat, it is all because of me. What? Oh, no, enough with the questions for now, I need some breathing room, time to think this over."

Hoof-steps sounded from the other side of the room, faint at first, but soon built up into stretches of advancing shadows that originated from another hallway entrance. The two men stood there, waiting, only to see Luna and Twilight coming through, discussing what seemed like what to do on Celestia's return.

"Wait here," said Corvo, walking over to the two princesses, "I will try to explain this matter."

"Sure, whatever you say," said Serath in an undertone. Oh dear, I hope I can get back in time before the others start to worry, in time for the bowling match I promised.

Meanwhile, Luna and Twilight spotted Corvo wandering towards them, a look of uncertainty highlighting his face.

"A few hours of sleep and you're good to go?" said Luna. "What are you doing up, Corvo? Are you eager to see my sister again?"

"Not exactly," replied Corvo, "but it would do some good if she could come back right now."

"So you really did decide to help out, huh?" said Twilight in vague contempt. "Well, we'll keep a close eye on you, so do be careful. Princess Luna and I were just talking about what to tell my friends when they get here."

"Your friends?"

"Yes, the Element-bearers have played a significant role in Equestria's survival up until this point, but I'm sure you know that by now," said Luna. "I just pray that my sister is successful in her goal. Anyway... did you need something?"

Corvo looked back to the corner that hid Serath, which simply earned him confused stares from the princesses. And then, to make light of the situation, he began to laugh halfheartedly, throwing up his arms in defeat. "This is far too ridiculous, even for me," he declared.

"Um... what?" exclaimed Twilight.

"Come here, Serath!" called Corvo.

Much to Luna's and Twilight's unexpected shock, a sudden figure became visible from behind Corvo, yet looking exactly like him. This figure, now in a state of single-mindedness, went to see the two alicorns up close, whom of which could now only shift their gaze between the two.

"Luna, Twilight, this is my friend, Serath Hemsworth," said Corvo with a comical lack of energy. "Serath, here are two talking ponies with wings far too small to lift them off the ground in any practical sense, accompanied with omni-illuminating candles on their foreheads."

"Very well then," said Serath, "there can absolutely be no doubt about it."

"Luna, Twilight, please listen to me," said Corvo to the speechless alicorns, "I truly did not intend for this to happen, and please remember that Serath's last thought is to bring harm."

"A-another human," gasped Twilight. She laughed nervously and gestured to Luna, and they both conversed in whispers. "Princess Luna, what do we do?"

"I'm not sure, Princess Twilight," said Luna, completely at a loss. "This companion of Corvo's struck out of nowhere; we really cannot take his word for it."

The two princesses shot stares at Corvo and Serath, then proceeded to take gradual steps back.

"We need to inform the others," said Twilight.

"Agreed, but..." began Luna. "I truly do doubt that this 'Serath' can possibly be more of a threat than what Corvo is right now."

"What do you mean, Princess?"

"Not that I trust Corvo"— Luna now bit her lip —"but it feels very genuine to me that he wishes to put an end to Sombra's plan."

"Alright, let me handle this," suggested Twilight wholeheartedly, puffing out her chest, doing her best to appear as authoritative as possible. "Why are you here?"

"Terribly sorry if I am interrupting anything work-related," replied Serath, "but I was conversing with Corvo here when all of a sudden a powerful force lifted us off from the very floor boards and sucked us into a mirror! We are here now, and... that's about it?"

"Decently put," said Corvo in a stricter voice, "but let me explain."

"Wait a minute," said Twilight, "he said that you two are friends?"

"Yes, he did," replied Corvo.

Twilight narrowed her eyes in examination and rubbed a hoof under her chin. "Hmm, interesting."

"So what you mean to tell us, 'Serath,' is that your arrival was a mere accident?" said Luna. "And what about this mirror?"

At the mention of the mirror Corvo felt anxious, now forced to consider these dangerous questions that had risen from this whole fiasco. "I... I really cannot say," he said, growing more agitated by the minute. "It was never supposed to be possible yet, but something called to me, I got curious and investigated; what I did not expect was a mirror down in a rather small basement. It led me back to my world."

"What!" exclaimed Twilight. "A mirror! You mean to say that there's a direct link between Equestria and where you come from?"

"Not anymore," sighed Corvo disappointingly, yet with a hint of relief. "It is just an ordinary mirror now."

"This is all getting incredibly confusing," put in Serath. "I mean, just what in the world is happening? The 'threat'; you ponies; this place; there are too many explanations that I await!"

"Furthermore, I am pleasantly surprised," said Corvo with a sardonic smile. "Here I thought you ponies would lose your very heads and blast us with magic at the very sight—"

There was a blue flash, followed by the rush of wind, and Serath dropped to the floor, twitching and moaning, but totally immobile.

"Perhaps I should invest in becoming a fortuneteller," deadpanned Corvo. Before any of them could see what was going on, the very same thing hit him.

"Are you two okay!" exclaimed Shining Armor frantically, quickly making his way to the princesses. "I was talking to Cadence, but when I got here I saw Corvo and—and that other creature in front of you!"

"Shining Armor!" said Twilight defensively, much to his surprise. "They weren't going to hurt us."

Shining himself glanced at Luna for any sort of affirmation, yet she just shrugged and applied: "Well, at least you did what a guard should do."

"Wait a minute," said Shining, "if Corvo was already here, then who's that next to him."

Twilight suddenly relaxed, yet still could not decide what to say exactly. "I'm... not sure. He just appeared out of the blue."

"Corvo told us that they came from a magic mirror," said Luna, and what she said next was mostly addressed to Twilight: "Maybe the same one that brought you and Spike to that other world."

Twilight considered this, and her eyes gleamed at the realization. "Oh, that's right," she said. "But why would it change?" All three stared at the two paralyzed, coat-laden men on the floor. "And we should really get them out of here."

Chapter 4: The Misty Morning

The paralysis spell didn't last too long, ten minutes at the most, though far more pain returned to Corvo's and Serath's senses than they would have expected. For the sake of precaution, both were lain in separate rooms; Luna instructed Shining Armor to question Corvo on this unexpected visit while she and Twilight would deal with Serath.

"That was painfully unnecessary, both figuratively and literally," breathed Corvo with intense weariness. The spell had dulled, but not entirely. He was pressed against the wall, and they had fetched him a pillow for his back.

"You know why we're here," said Shining rather dryly. "Two years after what we consider your unfortunate after-math, and you've got the nerve to come back. Now this?"

"Shame that we cannot see eye-to-eye in that regard," replied Corvo.

"I really don't mean to make this hard for you," said Shining calmly, in an attempt to ease the conversation. "You know why we're being protective."

Corvo sighed and, with a determined thought, decided that it would be best to make sure these ponies knew everything they needed to, in a way to consolidate the missing pieces of the situation.

"You already know a few of the facts," he said. "I followed some magical trail which rang in my head, like an invisible signal. Yes, this most likely had to do with my Mark, and if not that, Sombra's magic, but to be sure we would need to interrogate him. I went through and, surprisingly, found myself in my house, and that is where I encountered Serath."

"You said that he's your friend?"

"That is correct. We shared a brief conversation, he was going to depart, but lo and behold, the grasp of ill luck was on me: this magic mirror sucked us both through, and you know the rest."

"Hmm," hummed Shining with particular interest, now sitting down on the floor. "What was this conversation you both shared?"

"Why is that relevant?" asked Corvo

"Put yourself in our shoes and ask that again," he retorted.

"Well, we discussed tea," Corvo now spoke sardonically and without consideration to take the inquiry that seriously. "Would you like to know what tea I was going to make? Do not tell him, but I never was—the tea was already finished, the only thing left was to heat the pot. Brilliant, isn't it?"

Shining stared feverishly at Corvo, frowned, and leaned in closer to him. "Are you sure that's it?"

"Fine, if you must know, a local library struck up in flames, burnt to ruin, one that he and I used to meet up at."

"Alright. And?"

Corvo rested his head on his palm and leaned to one side. "How about we reveal the more appropriate questions?" he said. "You would like to know if you can trust us both, Serath in particular, yes?"

"How can we?" asked Shining in an almost mocking tone. It was clear that he felt extremely skeptical about the two, there was no doubt there, but he asked the question as if challenging Corvo to accomplish a near-impossible task.

"Luna and Twilight are questioning him right now," said Corvo, now more at ease. "You trust them, I am aware of that. Serath is about as harmless as a crippled fly; he once felt guilty for being a mere minute late to my voyage party nearly two years back. If they are able to see this, then what's the worry?"

"He sounds a little concerned," said Shining Armor, now with a faint smile.

"Serath is brilliant in many ways, but he assumes too little for his own sake and too much for others. This is why I fear for his life at this point, caught up in a web of danger, here in Equestria, with this King Sombra on the loose."

"So you do take your friendship seriously?"

"Put it whichever way you like, so long as you get the gist of it."

"At least I know that you aren't entirely heartless," remarked Shining Armor, lacking all traces of evident enthusiasm. "We should clear this up before Princess Celestia returns; once she's here, I'll take a minute to explain everything. Do you think Serath can help in any way?"

"We are both trapped here, so..." I could always try and summon the Outsider, but that would not get Serath out of here without an armor-piercing question directed at myself. It can do me no good either as I do not wish to leave, not until I am certain that Sombra is dead. I will kill him with my bare hands if that is what it takes.

"'So' what?" said Shining Armor.

"So... keep him out of it," replied Corvo with a frown.

"Listen, the last thing I want to do is praise you," said Shining with an effort, "but, for all that I've seen, you can be useful in situations like these. I don't know much about your kind, so I'm assuming Serath can stop time as well as—"

"N-no!" reproached Corvo, his face now pale, a nervous laugh creeping into his voice. "No, he does not possess any magical powers whatsoever. Oof, it just came to me that either Luna or Twilight could reveal my powers to him."

"So this is a secret on your part?"

"Uh, yes," he replied with a tightened jaw. This time Corvo kept his gaze fixed on a certain part of the floor, as to focus more on what to say, and every few seconds he would look somewhere else. "I myself am feeling much better now. We should go and see how the others are doing," he spoke as he rose to his feet, and luckily enough, his legs felt to him more lively than ever before.

"If you can manage," said Shining Armor, wandering ahead and opening the door.

"What was it that you implied, by the way? You want Serath to help you ponies in the battle against Sombra?"

"We'll know if he's willing or not," said Shining.

Meanwhile, Corvo had been thinking, in dreadful anticipation: What can I do should Serath realize that I am the Wandering Stranger? What about my mask, destroyed in the heat of battle? Where is that? If what I say comes true, I... might have to...

"Are you okay?" asked Shining with a tilt of his head

"No one is okay," said Corvo in a gloomy voice. Soon after he bumped into and nearly tripped against a unicorn guard who was passing by. He thought it to be odd, considering this guard looked particularly different than the rest, and he had not seen him before. Most noticeable was this guard's deadpan eyes: after a quick apology he resumed his gait down the hallway, always looking forth, like he were a train on dedicated rail tracks.

* * *

Serath was more or less in the exact same position as Corvo, except when he was able to move again, they set him down on a soft chair. There was an incredible amount of reflection on his mind, so many questions were constantly springing up in his head, questions that required an unbelievable suspension of disbelief. On the surface he remained collected and properly sane, now staring at the two ponies who had first attacked him and then given him a chair to sit on.

"Well now," he began, "...who is the awkward third party?"

"We'll, er, get to that," said Twilight with vague hesitation. "As you may have guessed, your arrival in Equestria has been—"

"Rather sudden," said Luna.

"Right," said Twilight with a weak smile. "This isn't meant to be against you, we were told that you're a friend of Corvo's, but we can't be sure, at least not yet."

"In other words," said Luna, "you'll need to answer some very specific questions should you want to stick around any longer."

The contrast between Twilight and Luna were night and day: while the former came off as much more nervous and considering, Luna had first-hoof experience with the likes of Corvo, she refused to take any chances, which made her impression far more aggressive and persistent. Serath quickly picked up on this.

"I understand perfectly," he said. "I will need a moment later to take this all in. Talking ponies, this bit about magic, and—what was it? Equestria? Is that the name of this world, or country?"

"Equestria is our country," said Luna, "and it is currently under threat by a very powerful and ancient unicorn who has risen from his defeat."

"Under threat?" now said Serath with the highest degree of interest. "This certainly does deserve attention, but not from me, at the least, not now. I really do know almost nothing of this world, and I have yet to question Corvo again."

"My brother is doing that right now, as a matter of fact," said Twilight, "but on your behalf, we still need to know exactly what happened when you got here, what you and Corvo talked about—once we can be sure that you're not dangerous, we'll tell you everything there is to know about Equestria. I promise."

"Only what is necessary," put in Luna. "Time is of the essence; we have estimated that there are only a few days left until Sombra's smoke can encompass all of Equestria."

"This seems fair to me," said Serath, and in a large breath he began: "There is this very popular library in the center of town, a library in which Corvo and I normally visited for analyzing books of lengthy interest, sharing our critical thoughts, and, without a doubt, a bit of whiskey as decoration! Then a fire struck, it took the entire building with it, I believe a forgotten cigar was the cause. In a most feverish haste I went to his house, to be the bearer of unfortunate news; now, what was strange was the way he appeared, and how he behaved; I told him that the library was gone, but contrary to what I expected, he took my words very well. We shared a light conversation regarding tea, I was ready and about to leave, but then that... that..." he kept shaking his fists, as if under pressure to remember something long forgotten. His pursed lips now contorted into a weak smile, unable to believe the web he found himself caught in, and continued like he never did interrupt himself: "That magical mirror (does magic really exist?), and we were both swept into this world: Equestria, it is.

"I myself am a fan of levity, to exaggerate my own feelings above that which is considered sane, all in order to behave reasonably. In other words, I took my predicament rather well, which means abnormally, as most would probably faint on the spot. Corvo then went on to explain the events at the present time, why he was here, but because we had not sat down over a drink, it was very difficult to discuss the matters more calmly. So now I remain undoubtedly—I must think of the perfect word—intrepid? Willing? I still must be familiarized on the smaller details and just who everyone is here."

Luna and Twilight exchanged enigmatic stares, as if agreeing on something without any words, and now Twilight wandered over to Serath, a contradiction of hesitation and curiosity washing over her.

"Well now," she began with an internal animation, "you are aware that we're at war, a war against an evil tyrant who's plan is to wipe out all life from Equestria. But"— she seized the moment to stare directly into his face —"if you can, if you're as capable as Corvo, we could use your help."

Luna was still in order to properly observe this conversation; she continuously wanted to tell the others of Corvo's friend, to tell him all that she knew out of a desperation to save Equestria, but every second she chided herself for thinking so carelessly, to put trust onto this stranger so quickly. Or, at least, this is what Twilight observed.

"I do have one question to which I must have answered," said Serath, "and that is to say, I want a brief explanation on this, if it is reasonable to ask: why is there such tension between you ponies and Corvo?"

"So he didn't tell you?" asked Luna.

Serath hunched his shoulders, and in earnest shook his head, but slowly, his gaze froze on the alicorn, now waiting to see just what she had to say.

For all the appropriate reasons there now developed a particular premonition in the air, shared by all three of them, though viewed at varying angles, that something very distressing was going to be revealed very quickly. Serath immediately began in an attempt to discern what Luna meant by "he didn't tell you," a rush of realization filling his thought process. Twilight was even more tensed than before, but now hid this nervousness better than before.

Luna gave a glassy frown, and continued: "You don't know why he came to us in the first place? No? I see now. Corvo wanted to kill both me and my sister—twice."

Serath was suggestively perplexed, though the ponies could not notice this. A cold sensation, almost like a wisp, slid down his back, into his body, and gleamed in his eyes with an earnest need for knowledge. Beyond this there remained a tremendous amount of doubt regarding his opinions on Corvo, whom he respected greatly, but now, at this moment, his logical concerns conflicted with personal feelings.

"Do assure that there is room for further elaboration," he said, almost in an undertone of worriment.

"According to what Corvo told us," said Luna in an attentive state, "he was told that a war would occur in the future, a war between your world and Equestria, that multi-dimensional magic would be invented, which would allow us to cross the borders."

"Cross into our world? But the mirror!"

"Now do you see the problem?" said Twilight all too suddenly.

"And by whom was he informed?" inquired Serath, now looking hard at Luna.

"A spirit of chaos." She impatiently tapped a hoof. "I thought that you would know this."

"I don't believe in 'spirits of chaos,'" reproached Serath quietly, now more in disbelief than before. "But what is there to believe or deny? Here I converse with two talking ponies, both can perform magic, and—" his face turned pale, and his words came out in fits of hysteria. "Deary me, what have I done to be put in this scenario?"

The door swung open, Corvo wandered into the room, and at this there were exclamations everywhere. Corvo appeared surprised for how Serath, Twilight, and Luna stared back at him with such aghast expressions, and they themselves felt nothing short of wonder in a pool of anxiety.

"Did I interrupt something important?" asked Corvo with a suggestive stare.

"Corvo!" Serath suddenly jumped from his chair, both hands clasped on his head. "A future war was coming? You were here before just to kill these ponies? You have personally seen a spirit of chaos?" These questions were shot out without regard for one another: whenever he asked one, Serath immediately forgot that he did so and moved onto the next.

Corvo hummed to himself disappointingly; he scanned the room with heavy notice of Princess Luna, like he were trying to decipher the implications of her passive eyes. At last an air of defeat—practical and expected defeat—washed over him. A second flew by, with all exclamations aimed at Corvo's line of action, who now suddenly lit his Mark. "It was only a matter of time before you found out." He vanished, and in that same instance appeared next to Serath, looking fixedly at all of them. "I am in possession of magical abilities as well," he said this directly.

"Okay then!" Twilight broke in with a hard smile. "I'm sure we can all wait for Princess Celestia to come back before anything else."

"My sister should have been here by now," put in Luna, now unaware of her saddened tone. Where is she?

"You have magic!" cried Serath in extreme animation.

"Serath," began Corvo in that voice which suggested only the highest degree of pity, "we are in a world such as this one, and this is what alarms you?"

Serath experienced several emotions all at once: he gazed at Corvo questioningly, was about to answer with as much reason as he could, but resorted to stare at Twilight, who only looked from side to side; and only then did he drop back onto his seat and laugh long but quietly to himself.

"So you are some sort of wizard," said Serath with an ironic smile, more of a statement than anything else. "Folks have studied 'witchcraft' for years in Dunwall, and a few even tried to reach the mystical being known as—"

"The Outsider gave me this Mark," said Corvo.

"The Outsider!" This caused Serath to jump up once again. "So he is real as well?"

"Indeed."

Luna now said something very suggestive, and at this notion she took a step back and stared coolly at Serath, the shadows round her seemingly deepening: "I am more surprised at your specific reaction, or lack thereof, concerning Corvo's history of murder, in this case, when he tried to take the lives of my sister and I. Does that not disturb you?"

"Rather... eh, yes, I suppose," said Serath timidly, now in deep reflection with a dark gleam in his eyes. "Corvo used to be, for all intents and purposes, a Royal Protector, the personal bodyguard of our empress at the time. Putting this into context, it would make sense that he would, not only travel constantly, but he would, now and again, be forced to put blood on his hands." Serath cast a glance at Corvo, who returned the gaze with an expression that silently remarked the obviousness of what he was saying. "While it is nothing new under the sun that Corvo has killed in the past, murder is not the most uncommon thing from where we come from, I still meant to ask him... eh, why. Later on, that is."

"So it's normal for your kind to kill?" she asked with a sharp change of expression, now visibly distressed.

"Serath is in no such position to spill blood," remarked Corvo with the tilt of his head. "I myself had my own reasons, and our little previous tussles were justified."

"That's debatable," said Twilight sharply.

"Yes, well, you lot know now," said Corvo, "and I have no further reason to continue this little game of trust. My only concern now is to put an end to Sombra before he has the chance to change"— for an incredibly short instance he smirked at this thought, but immediately coughed and went on —"our world. Change for the worst, of course."

"Half a minute, if you will," said Serath with weary impatience. "Corvo, take this all back for a bit."

"Fine. The Outsider was able to see into the future, warned me of a fatal struggle between Equestria and where we come from, and after much deliberation, and somewhat on an instinctive nature, I felt the need to preserve my homeland. Is that so unreasonable?"

"Yes, yes it is," said Twilight defensively, stomping a hoof down. "You should hear yourself; it's almost as if you personally wanted to get rid of us."

"I am sorry that it came to all this," said Corvo, "but take the time to look at the bigger picture: we are all driven by similar motivations at this point, we are all very capable to work with one another, and my days of murder are over. Why do you think I retired as a bodyguard? Officially I am a detective—though I also quite like the thought of, eh... other subjects."

"Everypony, Princess Celestia has finally returned!" announced Shining Armor unexpectedly from the corner of the door. "And she's with Twilight's friends."

Huh? thought Corvo. His expression was still relatively calm, nothing to reveal, but he was nothing short of frustrated at being proven wrong. She is back? True that the possibility of her returning was present, this is in light of all she would need to do in order to save all of the ponies in Ponyville and yet have time to come to the Crystal Empire. How did she do it? And again his conscious exploded into a state of analysis, considering to himself what Celestia's opinion would be regarding Serath, and how she would respond when Corvo had made it evident in his observation that she would either return alone or die in a vain attempt.

"They're here, my friends?" Twilight practically said aloud, her voice entwined with a tone which clearly suggested you were on the verge of tears. She was beyond overjoyed, more so than was needed, and galloped past her brother, much to his disappointment (but alas, he could not complain), and she cried from the foyer: "Princess Celestia!"

"My heart finally has a little less weight on it," sighed Luna, smiling a weak smile. "Shining Armor, how long?"

"She just got back five minutes ago," he said. "I met her by the station."

"Did you tell her about—" she gestured to Serath, almost as if he were not supposed to notice.

"Um... yeah, you can say that," he said, rubbing the back of his head, far more unconfidently than she would have liked. "The thing is, princess, is that I only managed to get a sentence or two through on the topic of Serath here. At first she looked a bit worried, but I believe Princess Celestia can understand. If we can get her affirmation on this matter, then I can as well."

"Princess Ce-les-ti-a?" said Serath curiously.

"This is what I assume will happen," said Corvo, now making his way to the door: "Princess Celestia will request a bit of a tête-à-tête with Serath, for obvious reasons no doubt, and now—Twilight and her friends," he ended quietly and in contemplation. "Our situation now has been markedly improved in a number of areas, so for now, I may have to talk to them? If not by her direct consent, I will ask to."

"You would like to speak with the Elements?" asked Luna, taken aback in confusion. "Why?"

"Why else? We need to establish some sort of relationship, however small, if we are to collaborate smoothly. I only have to make sure to avoid Pinkie Pie at all costs." He ceased his gait and re-thought what he had just stated. "How on Earth do I even remember their names?"

* * *

Corvo was partly correct. Princess Celestia had indeed asked to speak with Serath in private, upstairs in Cadence's room. She and Corvo merely exchanged looks of a cooled rivalry, though she was content with bemusing him and being off, with the latter now skeptical and strangely amused.

Much to his surprise Corvo saw Discord floating about next to Celestia—he had remembered the creature from two years ago, witnessing him right before leaving. Discord was smiling, and if anything else, exchanging words with Celestia while the two headed upstairs with Serath uncomfortably by their side. He was in the most awkward of positions.

Corvo now turned round to see Luna coming back from another room: she had been asked to retrieve Spike who had been there all along, sending magical scrolls to each and every city regarding Sombra's threat on her command. He was evidently weary, but nonetheless glad to be with Twilight and her friends. By the fact itself, he ran to her for a hug the moment he turned the corner from the hallway.

Shining Armor and Princess Cadence were sent—together—to the guard barracks with the generals and decide on what their next course of action might be.

Princess Luna herself dismissed the guard on lookout from the top of the Crystal Castle and decided to watch the night sky from there, deep in determined reflection. She was largely one of the more careful ponies, still hanging on the edge of paranoia in thought of Corvo and Serath, but strangely enough, not of Sombra, or so that is how I perceived it. She intended to use up all the time available to, if not help right away, pour her ideas into a state of contemplation. What that contemplation was in service of—that I cannot decide on at the moment.

Back inside the castle itself stood Corvo with a painfully awkward poker face right in front of the six ponies and Spike. Each of them put forth expressions of confusion, acceptance, anger, and skepticism, with variations between them.

Twilight surveyed her friends carefully as if to gauge their respective reactions; Spike with simply by her side, awaiting for someone to say something; Rarity was by more the most feverishly skeptical, narrowing her eyes and rubbing a hoof under her chin; Rainbow Dash took a moment to register what was going on—though Celestia had briefed all of them on the train ride over about what had occurred within the last twenty-four hours or so—but she was nonetheless irritated; Fluttershy was simply frightened beyond all belief, but upon seeing Corvo she felt oddly at ease, even though this change in attitude wasn't noticeable in the least; Pinkie Pie awkwardly swiveled her head about to observe her friends and the room they were in, but she only slowly waved a hoof to Corvo, bearing a concerning expression; Applejack was, much like Rainbow Dash, irritated to see Corvo, more stubbornly so, even if Celestia had informed them of his visit prior.

"Where are my manners?" said Corvo rather quietly, with genuine thought rather than to mock their stares. He flattened his greatcoat at the waist, straightened his back, and wandered towards them. "It has been two years since we last spoke to one another," he continued with a friendly smile, "and while you last viewed us as acquaintances on good terms, you are now aware of what was really playing behind the curtains."

"Yeah, we know that you tried to kill the princesses!" said Rainbow heatedly, rising from the ground. "You may be on neutral grounds for now, but believe me, buddy, you and I are not friends."

"Oh, I believe you," said Corvo, "but tell that to King Sombra's biomass of black smoke and see if it stands on ceremony."

Rainbow Dash shot a pretentiously poisonous glare, and frowning she lowered to the floor.

Twilight let out a heavy sigh. "Listen," she said, "there's a lot to discuss, a lot that we still don't know or aren't sure of, but—" she now spoke strictly and calmly in juxtaposition to her friends' anxious thoughts "—I'm pretty sure of one thing: Princess Celestia still hasn't put Corvo under any sort of confinement, she's letting him work with us, and if she trusts him, then I think we need to at least put aside any form of bad blood and focus on what we can do to save Equestria."

"And who was that other feller Ah saw wanderin' with the princess and Discord?" said Applejack.

"He's a friend of Corvo's," said Twilight.

"So now there are two of them?" exclaimed Rarity in great alarm.

"No need to feel down in the dumps about it," said Corvo, rather absentmindedly. "Celestia and, er, Discord are questioning him this very moment, I am certain of that, to see if he can stay." But on that front, I hope she asks him to leave, or he chooses to not be in our way. There is no doubt in my mind that Serath is very capable, but the longer he resides, the closer he is to revealing my identity as the Wandering Stranger. Once we get together again I am sure that he will have questions regarding my powers—even I can put two and two together. If he does find out—

"Corvo, are you okay?" asked Twilight. "Your face turned pale."

"Tell me, when did Discord arrive?" said Corvo suddenly, completely ignoring Twilight's concern, much to her irritation.

"Oh, well," began Fluttershy in a quiet tone, but eager to respond, "Discord was with me when Princess Celestia found us in the cottage. She said she was gathering all of us to get to the Crystal Empire as fast as possible."

"Exactly," said Pinkie reassuringly. "With Discord's help King Sombra won't know what'll hit him!"

"It took a while, too," put in Applejack observantly, crossing one fore-hoof over another. "Duty called, Ah 'sposed, and mah family had to head their separate ways further south. Oh, Ah really hope they're alright."

"Don't sweat it, Applejack," said Rainbow. "All of Ponyville has been evacuated at this point."

"And I've been sending letters to all the cities and towns across Equestria," said Spike proudly. "With Princess Luna's warning we'll all be prepared for some silly smoke."

"That's good news, Spike," said Twilight, "but right now, all we can do is wait for Princess Celestia to finish up her conversation with Serath. When that's done, I'll bet that Shining Armor and Princess Cadence will have something planned out." She cleared her throat and put on a forced optimistic look. "So... why don't we all sit down in a living room and catch up on... things."

"Sounds good to me," said Corvo with a strange sense of enthusiasm. He walked by the ponies, led now by Twilight, and they were now in a particularly large crystal room with a several long windows, four sofas on a wide carpet, and another door which connected to a latter hallway. Corvo was seated on one couch while the ponies shared two others.

"So what did Celestia tell you?" asked Corvo.

"All that we needed to know," said Rarity: "you got a letter from that dreadful Sombra, which in turn led you here."

"And Equestria ain't the only place on Sombra's list of places to destroy—he's got it out for you, too," said Rainbow Dash.

"So that's why you're helping us," said Pinkie with an inappropriate smile.

"Then y'all got to the Crystal Empire, though she didn't describe much after that," said Applejack, prodding her chin.

"I see," said Corvo thoughtfully. "You all know that, to put an end to Sombra's reign of terror, we must retrieve the Crystal Heart and bring it here."

They all nodded in unison, and Twilight, now finally coming to the conclusion that she would be unable to solve this, said: "But what I don't understand is how exactly the Crystal Heart was stolen. Not even two days ago it rotated under the castle, but now it's gone, despite the tight watch we keep it under."

"So it just vanished," echoed Corvo, more to himself than the rest.

"And who's this 'friend' Corvo brought along?" said Rainbow with a thoughtful eyebrow raised.

"His presence is nothing but sheer accident," said Corvo, but now he remained guessing as to whether or not this were true; "however... the mirror only took hold of us right when I entered my home, hardly a coincidence."

There now were exclamations on all sides.

"The magic mirror!" exclaimed Rarity in complete disbelief. "You mean the one Twilight used to cross into the human world?"

"Pardon?" said Corvo in a sudden change of tone. "Twilight, you have entered the mirror before?"

"I'm pretty sure we're talking about two completely different things," said Twilight with unease. "The human world I came into contact with was... colourful, to say the least. You don't look like you'd be from there. On top of that, when a human enters Equestria they turn into ponies, but we can tell that this isn't in your case."

Corvo crossed his arms and leaned back, his eyes now glassy, as if he had forgotten that six ponies were right across from him. "This magic mirror took both me and Serath to Equestria," he said in a barely audible undertone. "Like I said, hardly a coincidence, meaning that Sombra must have wanted for this to happen, but Sombra was not there, so I can come to the conclusion that this mirror was premeditated. This only strengthens the theory that he did indeed set foot in my world. No, it is a fact at this point, not a theory."

"Wait just a darn minute," interjected Applejack impatiently, "so if there's another, uh, 'Corvo' here—Serath was it?—Who's to say he ain't in cahoots with King Sombra?"

"So you are worried my friend cannot be trusted, whom you have never met before, but you do not consider the same for me?" said Corvo, giving Applejack a hard look.

"Well, Ah guess not," said Applejack slowly, partially convinced. "But if this whole mirror was 'cause of Sombra's plan, why add yer friend to the mix?"

"That is what confuses me."

"So let me get this straight," said Rainbow Dash, "King Sombra returned because of some crazy imbalance in magic, and now not only does he want to destroy all of Equestria, he wants to take your place as well? Oh brother, I'm not sure whether to feel bad for you or glad that—ow, hey!" She shot a glare at Applejack, who slapped her in the back of the head.

"Corvo, you seemed rather eager to have this conversation," observed Rarity. "But you don't seem to be 'conversing' all that much."

"To tell you the truth, I am not here for the discussion of any daily issues," said Corvo. "As much as I would appreciate that, now is not the time. If none of you mind, would you lot be willing to be put through a small test in order to determine your perception capabilities? In proper context, with Serath at Celestia's hooves, should the two come to the idea that he should aid us on top of staying—as you probably know, the mirror does not work now—I would need to consult him on many subject matters. All I need to know is can I trust you, all of you? This is not due to faith, but if I can count on the ways you control your way of knowing, and how you adapt."

They all glanced at one another, exchanging their mixed reactions and opinions, but ultimately decided to go along with this harmless test.

"This is how it will work," went on Corvo with moderate anticipation, like he knew who would pass and who wouldn't: "I will either propose a single difficult question or, say, five easier questions. Both options may have multiple variables to think about—"

"Variables?" said Rainbow Dash, now unsure. "Aw man, is math gonna be involved?"

"Nothing too complicated," deadpanned Corvo. "To solve these questions, or rather, 'solve' is the wrong word. To be able to answer these questions without stumbling is all that I ask. Now then, which is it: the difficult question or the five easy ones?"

"Well," said Twilight decisively, "easy questions aren't much of a challenge, so I guess we can go with the hard one."

Her friends shrugged and nodded in agreement.

"But before we start, I must know," said Rarity, "how will this determine whether or not you can trust us?"

"If you want my opinion on this," said Spike all too eagerly, "this actually sounds like fun."

"Just bear with me," said Corvo. "You shall all learn in due time. Ahem, what comes first: the night or the day?"

In relative order, from Rainbow Dash to Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Fluttershy, and last to Twilight, the answers went:

"Well duh, the day of course... I think."

"Hmm, Ah reckon that Princess Celestia was the first to rule over Equestria, so in that balance-of-harmony sorta way, Ah'd say day!"

"My first party ever was in the day, so I gotta go with that!"

"Well, neither can really occur first, I don't assume, but if I absolutely have to pick, I shall choose the day."

"I'll go with day."

And now all eyes were on Twilight. "Seeing as how there's only two options," she began, annoyed with all the pressure suddenly being pressed round her, "it would be reasonable to say that the day comes first, but night is only the absence of light, and something couldn't have just been here forever. But you said to choose between night and day, not light and darkness, so if we consider Equestrian history, the sun and moon were raised way before Princess Celestia and Princess Luna were born. It's actually still up for debates nowadays, but a lot of ponies declare that—"

"Twilight, just pick one," said Corvo dryly.

She still remained unsure, now almost holding her breath. "I guess," she went on, "that I'll go... with... the day!"

"And... Spike, was it?" Corvo looked over to Spike.

"Oh, yeah, that's right," he replied awkwardly.

"What is your choice?"

Spike now clicked his tongue, his palms together as if to detract himself. He didn't know whether to feel included in this group or strange, being asked a question by someone he had never truly met before. And yet his unease wasn't entirely at fault; with a hum of thought he was rather confident in what to say.

"Everypony here said the day," he said, "so I'll go with that: the day came first."

They all settled on the day, thought Corvo. "Concluding all of this, explain to me how?"

"Huh?" said Twilight confusingly.

"You all answered the day," said Corvo, "so allow me to give you this: tell me how."

"How the day comes first?" repeated Pinkie.

"Yes," said Corvo slowly. "Are any of you sure enough to provide an answer?"

The six ponies, once again, agreed to his inquire, save for Spike: he bowed his head, double-guessing himself if he really could answer properly. If Twilight got it wrong, there's no way he would be able to get it correctly.

"You don't look too happy there; are you sure you know what to say?" asked Corvo.

"What! Oh, um, n-no, I mean, of course I'm sure!" he said nervously. "I've studied astronomy with Twilight before."

"Then how does the day come first?"

"Allow me," said Twilight quickly as she edged closer. "The day occurs because Princess Celestia raises the sun, and the night when Princess Luna raises the moon. However, that's kind of irrelevant. The night is when we don't see the sun, that's to say, the sun's light is supposed to be absent on our land. But the sun was always glowing bright even before Equestria came to be. So the day came first."

Without a second of hesitation all of her friends nodded with smiles, making it obvious to Corvo that most of them were unsure in their responses. Even Spike agreed.

"So did we get it right?" said Pinkie in anticipation.

"I don't care," said Corvo. "If the day came first, or the night, does not matter. You all failed."

"Oh, come on!" said Rainbow Dash irritably. "I knew this was gonna turn out to be some complicated trick question, but now you're saying that it overall doesn't matter?"

"I agree," said Rarity with a skeptic eyebrow lowered. "What was the point of asking us what comes first if you don't care?"

"To answer your initial question, Rarity," said Corvo with a half smile, "there are many situations in life, especially our current predicament in regards to Sombra, where you will be forced to make important decisions. You must put your train of thought through a process of elimination should you desire the most beneficial of results. Of course there are no exceptions, so even the most obvious conclusions should be considered. By over-thinking something you might stumble."

"But how in tarnation did we fail!" argued Applejack, waving a hoof in the air.

"Because you all answered my second question without questioning it itself," said Corvo. "I said that I would ask a single question, which I did: does the night or day come first? However, you all let me get away with a second question, and to add to that, most of you hardly felt secure in your responses. In other words, when I asked how the day comes first, you should have responded with: 'But that is a second question, and you intended for only one.' By saying that you all would have gotten away. This is that moment where you put superfluous difficulty ahead of yourselves."

"Alright, you got us," said Twilight. She looked at him rather enigmatically, however, and gestured a hoof towards him. "But how about you get a taste of your own medicine?"

Corvo crossed his legs and chuckled quietly, now in a state of excitement, and pressed an elbow on the sofa's arm. "Now this is a surprise," he exclaimed with a pale gleam in his eyes. "You want to ask me a question? Yes, that does sound like fun, go ahead."

"Ooh, ooh!" said Pinkie Pie bouncing up and down. "Can I ask a question?"

"How about we all lay one on him?" suggested Rainbow Dash. She was rubbing her hooves together, with all the intent in the world to make sure, despite anything, that Corvo would get her question incorrect, if only to provide weight to mock him.

"So you all want to be part of this?" laughed Corvo. "Good, this should be far more interesting now."

"So who goes first?" asked Twilight, looking to her friends for an answer.

"Oh, I'll go first!" said Pinkie Pie, smirking maliciously. "Are you ready?"

"Go ahead," said Corvo.

"I got this one from Sugar Cube Corner," she said with a wink. "What always goes up and never down?"

"Your age," replied Corvo flatly.

"That's right!" she gasped. A silence hung in the air, Pinkie Pie darted her eyes back and forth, then, in an undertone, she whispered to her friends: "He's good."

"Come on, Pinkie, you call that difficult?" huffed Rainbow Dash. "Here's one that'll really drive you up a wall. I can only exist when light is around, but I'll disappear as soon as it shines on me. What am—"

"A shadow."

The delivery of his answer crossed the room so quickly, with a mocking amount of boredom, that the pegasus dropped to the sofa, her mouth agape, now more irritated than before.

"Fine then," said Applejack, "ya may be good at riddles, but let's see ya top this: y'all gotsta transport three thousand apples over one thousand kilometers from Sweet Apple Acres to Canterlot. Yer truck can carry a thousand apples at a time, and every kilometer ya cross costs a single apple, but there ain't no consequence fer travelling in reverse. What is the absolute maximum number of apples ya can deliver? Impressive, huh? Believe it or not, but Big Mac was the one to come up with it!"

The others stared in awe for a moment, then began waiting for Corvo to say something back. A few of the ponies even scratched their heads in reflection.

"So now we move to something a little more objective," remarked Corvo."Very well. The highest number of apples you can import would be... eight hundred thirty-three? Yes, that seems about right."

"What the—!" Applejack shook her head and frowned. "But ya took all of five seconds seconds to come up with an answer. That has to be impossible."

"Applejack is right," affirmed Rarity. "There is no possible way to make all those calculations in only five seconds."

"Well, what Corvo said is true," said Twilight at length. "Eight hundred thirty-three, but how long did it take me? Ten seconds?"

"Are you ponies really that stunned?" said Corvo, looking carefully at all of them. "The math on display is easy. You stop at three hundred thirty-three kilometers, which means you lose an equivalent number of apples. You drop the rest that you have, go back, carry the next thousand—"

"Alright, alright!" declared Rainbow Dash with unusual defense. "No need to become an egg-head and explain the math to us."

Corvo stared at her almost mockingly, gave a slow nod, and moved his attention away from the cyan mare and setting his sights on Fluttershy. "How about you go next?"

"Actually, I think I do," said Fluttershy, a determined look overlapping her unease. While she still did not directly state it, Fluttershy was quickly growing accustomed to Corvo, slowly, and surely not to any significant magnitude, but it was there nonetheless. In this moment his friendly side was far more apparent than any of the behaviour they initially expected. It was a pleasant surprise to say the least.

"Here's what I can think of," she went on. "It kinda has to do with what you said about your question, actually."

Corvo nodded to show that he understood, but overall remained indifferent and waiting.

"A bear is tied to a five-meter-long rope, and right in front of him, ten meters away, there's a barrel filled with blue berries. But the bear can still manage to eat the berries. How is this possible?"

"You are right about what you said," said Corvo with unmoving eyes. "Like my first question, you must not over-think these variables. Anyway, you never did say the rope was tied to anything in particular, so moving with it the bear can wander over to the berries and eat away. Rarity, what do you have?"

"Well, darling, up until this point you haven't been challenged with a truly difficult logical problem," said Rarity, raising her chin. "You are in a prison cell with the intent to escape, but unfortunately there are only two doors available. One leads to freedom while the other is certain demise—you are not informed on which is which. There are two guards, one will always tell the truth, and the other can only tell a lie, but once again, you do not know which one tells the truth and which one doesn't. You may only ask a single question, to either of the guards, but not both, and based on that question you must figure out which door will save you. Oh, and do keep in mind that these two guards are familiar with each other."

"That has to be, like, the hardest problem ever!" exclaimed Pinkie Pie.

"I gotta say, Rarity, that's a tricky one," said Twilight, rubbing a hoof under her chin, deep in thought.

"Not only do I appreciate a good challenge, but giving them makes the whole experience far more rewarding," said Rarity with a smirk.

"I agree," said Corvo. "Hmm, that last detail you mentioned is obviously relevant, so I suppose I would ask a guard what he knows about his friend." He was silent for a long time. "Ah, yes, I've got it. Pose this question: if I wanted to escape and take the true door, what would the other guard suggest? In relation to each other, whichever door they answer is the one not to pick."

"Whoa!" exclaimed Spike in amazement. "Corvo's awesome! Seriously, how'd you do that?"

"A lot of practice," said Corvo, his head tilted. "Any of you can be just as well-informed and be able to quickly respond to these logical obstacles with enough practice and reading."

"Yeah, but you're even smarter than Twilight!" Spike said this with the utmost excitement, but immediately froze and smiled sheepishly, frantically waving his arms to Twilight in denial. "Oh, what I meant to say is that you're the smartest pony in Equestria, Twilight. And no pony's ever gonna take that title away! Heh, right?"

"It's alright," said Twilight absentmindedly, her ears slightly lowered. I've been doubting Corvo this entire time, but something in this little get-together of ours leads me to believe that he might take this seriously after all. No, Princess Celestia announced that his world is under threat, of course he would be serious. Just one questions comes to serve: are all humans like this—this quick-thinking?

"Twilight," said Corvo, "do you have one for me?"

He's surprisingly calm, she thought, smiling weakly. Equestria's on the brink of destruction, and here we are telling each other riddles. I really hope Princess Celestia won't take too long. "No, I think I'll pass."

Corvo nodded slowly. "Okay then," he said, casting a glance behind his shoulder. "As a matter of fact, good call, for you, that is." This was when his shoulder hunched as if in a broad winter, now looking at all of the ponies with equal interest. "Apologies for the distraction, but I got what I wanted."

"What d'ya mean by that?" said Applejack, sticking a dubious eye out to him.

"In regards with what I implied earlier," began Corvo with a hand held out, "I merely wished to test your ability to recognize a subtle inconsistency in a basic logical solution. Please do not feel heavy at heart about it, many have missed the goal before."

"Yeah, we get it," scoffed Rainbow Dash. "What's your point?"

"The point is that I refuse to waste precious time. Up until the moment we all met in this living room, I have crafted several theories as to how Sombra initially obtained the Crystal Heart." Corvo straightened his back, now leaning forward, like he were ready to be dismissed. "May I have your opinions on them?"

The six ponies exchanged whispers and suggestive glances among one another, though this only lasted for several seconds; all of the energy spent on a skeptical discussion translated over to Twilight.

"Wait, why would we discuss this?" she asked, now setting her sights on Corvo. "What do we have to lose?"

"Very well," said Rarity with a high, somewhat anticipating voice, "tell us of these theories you have come up with."

Before anyone could say anything remotely related to the matter at hand, a ray of yellow light caught their attention, piercing the gleaming window at first, but soon broadening and encompassing the entire room: the sun had been risen.

"Yay, the sun's up!" clamored Pinkie Pie with a large bounce, landing between Corvo and her friends. "You know what this means!"

"Princess Celestia raised the sun!" exclaimed Twilight, finally allowing herself to smile a genuine smile. "This is our cue to head to the foyer."

"Is it?" said Corvo. He slowly rose from the couch and put on a face of wonder. "What are we to do now?"

"The princess told us that she would have somethin' figured out before mornin'," explained Applejack. They all began to wander over to the front door.

How confident, thought Corvo, and soon the living room was empty.

* * *

At the same time, that is, when Corvo and the ponies were exchanging trivial little riddles, Celestia had taken Serath for a "talk." She knew very well that there was not enough time to squeeze out every detail from Serath, leading her to ask only the most necessary questions. Things were happening all too quickly; Celestia needed to manage her time effectively. I will now recount their conversation from beginning to end, to the degree that I am capable of.

"Comfy?" asked Celestia, letting herself sink into a flat pillow she had arranged for herself, yet remaining tall in stature.

Opposite to her, though securely close, sat Serath in a wooden high chair. He had spent the last minute observing as much as he could, to the point where he began to take caution as to not push the limits of his unscheduled visit.

"Yes," he spoke rather quickly, almost without breath. He let himself put on a friendly face, always correcting his posture whenever his body began to fidget. What he had taken from Celestia, up to now, was her reluctance to give off any sort of welcoming air, which was put in relation to the lack of time they all really shared. This detail led him to believe that the princess was, by her nature, incredibly kindhearted.

Next to Serath, levitating in small circles, Discord continuously switched his gaze from Celestia to the waning moon from beyond the window. His interest wasn't particularly focused on Serath himself—he had already put quite a bit of his effort to understand Corvo—but most inappropriate was his sardonic smirk. All he had to do was wait and insert his opinion whenever convenient.

"What do you take from all of this?" she inquired at length.

"Oh! From this specifically?" said Serath with a strange startle. He surveyed Discord to his reluctance, and he now pressed his back into the chair harder than before. "Corvo informed me that this world is under threat, and his intervention is due to a relationship he and you share."

"Relationship," repeated Celestia with a mocking smile. "Yes, that's one way to put it." She shifted on the pillow and exhaled slowly. "My subjects—rather, my friends and I are on the edge of a knife. First a psychotic villain wishes death upon us all, and with every last shred of paranoia built into our current scenario, you show up from out of nowhere. That is what Shining Armor told me. I have no idea who you may be, only that you and Corvo are friends."

"I understand," Serath assured clearly.

"Do you?" Celestia raised her chin. "What do you know regarding this relationship Corvo and I share?"

"I am partly familiar with it," began Serath in a low voice, but suddenly waved his hand and cleared his throat. "No, no, that is not it! Corvo only informed me just a few minutes ago, so perhaps 'familiar' is not the best word."

"Interesting of how content you seem," said Discord abruptly, narrowing his gaze. He put on a childish tone and walked over to Serath. "Deary, did you know that your friend nearly killed Princess Celestia and Princess Luna?"

Serath subconsciously swallowed loudly and averted his eyes to the floor, seeking a point in the room to set his concentration, but settled to look back at Celestia, and once he did this, a much unexpected ease washed over him. "Yes," he replied sadly. "I have no idea why, unfortunately, but his profession warrants such violent acts."

"Well, this ought to be good," said Discord, crossing his arms, his interest now in that state of unrest.

"Care to elaborate?" said Celestia.

With that Serath became more confident and sat up straighter. "Of course, of course," he declared. "Corvo and I became friends roughly two years ago, and only two months prior to the false accusation: you see, he was accused of murdering our empress at the time, the one representing our country. A whole case was built round this accusation, but after six or so more months, and from the help of a couple of outsiders and business associates, they were able to prove his innocence. Corvo held the title of Royal Protector."

"Sounds like an over-bloated bodyguard," put in Discord, chuckling to himself.

"It is a bodyguard, yes," continued Serath with a quick nod. "The title of Royal Protector is the most prestigious position one may earn in the line of royalty, right under the kings and queens, no doubt. Corvo was also the youngest lad to obtain said title: he is the most renowned swordsman in the world."

"The world!" exclaimed Celestia, unsure of whether to be impressed or threatened.

"Quite so!" went on Serath enthusiastically, but this soon faltered when he observed the ominous expression she gave him. "B-but that was two years ago, perhaps his skill has dulled with no practice."

"Moving on..." said Discord, swiveling his wrist.

"I will! Where was—oh yes, the Royal Protector! Corvo began to serve under the government and military at the age of sixteen, when he impressed the officials with him winning first place in an annual sword duel competition. Two or three years afterwards—I cannot recall correctly—he was granted the title of Royal Protector through pure skill, and what a record it was!"*

"How is any of this relevant?" said Celestia, making her impatience far more noticeable.

"You wanted to know why killing is warranted with his profession, no? The crime rate was extraordinarily high at the time, so his hands got dirty more than once. This is what a bodyguard of his position does; this is also why I am not entirely awe-struck by his attempt of ending your life. But you lot seem so nice, I truly wonder what reason he had."

"He does have a reason," said Celestia in a low voice, lowering her head. "He wanted to prevent a war between your world and ours. As you've experienced, we can already cross paths." But her jaws tightened and she quickly looked up, as if startled but with the desire to hide it. "But do not be mistaken, none of this is any reason to justify what he did."

"I agree," said Serath. "I can also see as to why you may be so paranoid of his presence; but I know Corvo, and if he truly wants to help you, he will. He is the most honest gentleman you can encounter."

And then a flash of anger shot through Celestia, one that even surprised her when it happened. The notion of Corvo being honest to aid them in their struggles, when considering the deception he had brought in his previous encounter, was practically insulting. Realizing this, Celestia sighed slowly and blinked hard.

"Just be careful what you say," she said. "You regarded his position of this royal bodyguard to two years ago; what does he do now, presently?"

"Corvo is a detective, an extremely well-paid detective, now that you think about it," said Serath with a laugh. "Once he was a free man, Corvo went on to serve the government once again. He is, in my opinion, the best detective in our country, with one of the best track records of solved cases, and many compare him to other highly respected detectives from round the world. The number of letters of recommendation he received were absurd—in the good way, of course.

"However, recently he's been a little distracted, with obvious intention. In the past year he has tackled four different scientific fields; he now studies theoretical physics."

"Is he any good at it?" asked Celestia.

"It would be much harsher to confirm that," replied Serath, sighing. "Other than a few abandoned projects and hit-or-miss theories, Corvo is really not the best scientist. Strange, I realize, considering that he is a far more capable logician. I think he may be trying to distract himself with a variety of work; the rate at which he concludes his cases is also declining. But then again, he only tackles the most difficult ones, with only seven he has never been able to complete. I doubt his interest in physics will last much longer."

"I see," said Celestia with a bit of detachment in her tone; the entire time she was thinking her own thoughts, but careful enough as to not give away any indication of concentration on her face. This is not to imply that she didn't pay attention, but with wariness surrounding everypony, she decided now would be the time for mental multi-tasking.

"Why not tell us about yourself, Serath?" suggested Discord. He pulled at his white beard, his smile not once fading away.

"I suppose I owe you that much," replied Serath, lifting his shoulders. "For starters, I am a doctor."

"It takes years of study to become a doctor," remarked Celestia. "Where are you placed in the work?"

"Master's Degree, and I am only half a year away from my PhD," said Serath with a surprising lack of pride, seemingly content with declaring this like it were common for anyone to have an expertise in medicine.

"Very fascinating!" exclaimed Discord, floating uncomfortably close to Serath. "We don't have many doctors in Equestria, but perhaps it's because things are so"— he quickly cast a rapid glance to Celestia and sighed disdainfully, shaking his hands in the air —"peaceful and friendly."

"I've noticed so," said Serath, resting his hands over his lap. He was less tense than before, now more willing to show off proper mannerisms. "But with what I know, you might need an extra doctor or two."

Celestia's ears perked curiously. "Are you implying that you wish to help us?" she asked, slowly turning her cheek.

"N-no, no, not that!" said Serath suddenly, his face flushing. "I mean, I mean, I would be willing to help, not that I ask of you to let me, I was simply suggesting that you may need more hospitals, but I would be alright should you require my assistance, not that I demand it, I mean, but—"

"Relax," said Celestia calmly, finally letting herself smile out of slight amusement. "No need to get yourself so worked up over it; I'm well aware of what you meant."

"And no need to stammer so often," opined Discord, rolling his eyes.

Celestia shook her head at Discord's rude remark, and then went on with an inquiry: "Just out of curiosity, do you have any family?"

"So glad that you mentioned it!" said Serath, laughing to himself rather excitedly. He reached into the inner-pocket of his coat, and from within pulled out a small photograph. It was shaded in colour and thickly blurred. He held it out, and Celestia took it with her magic for closer inspection. She viewed Serath, a joyful smile on his face, like he were trying to contain laughter, holding a small child in his arms; next to him and clutching his arms, stood a woman with a small smile, and in between them a boy, roughly half his height.

"Photographs are particularly expensive," he went on, "therefore, we only take them on special occasions."

She was frozen for an instance, staring at the picture with an odd sensation, one she had been seeking for the past couple of days, one of which she appreciated greatly. Celestia found herself clenching her teeth, now unsure of what to do. She gave a weak smile and handed the photo back to him, who stuffed it into his pocket.

"You seem very happy about them," she said with soft eyes.

"Extraordinarily happy, and proud, dare I say!" laughed Serath, leaning back onto his chair and, for the first time, gazing into the dark window. "I was hoping to shoot a new one next year."

Celestia looked over to Discord while Serath was busy observing the moon, but his response was a simple shrug.

"I have a proposition," she declared, immediately catching Serath's attention. "It's honestly hard to imagine someone such as yourself making friends with Corvo, but I've seen all that needs to be seen, and my mind is made up: you aren't as dangerous as I was afraid of you being. Now that that's been put aside, if you're willing, and only if, you may help us stop Sombra."

Much to her surprise, Serath said without hesitation or faltering: "Of course. This Sombra is a threat to my own world as well, including my friends and family; what do I have to lose?"

"I'll..." began Celestia, but with a bit more effort than she would have liked. "I'll... try to guarantee your safety, you have my word on it."

"And I solemnly swear to... er, what are we to do again?" asked Serath with furrowed brows.

"Ah, that's right," said Celestia, "we're looking for the Crystal Heart: it's exactly what it sounds like, but very massive, about seventy centimeters in diameter, only two-to-three kilograms, something along those lines."

"And once we can find the drastic thing," said Discord slowly, as if he were bored, "just plug it in directly under the Crystal Castle, big magical shock-wave, and that's all there is to write home."

"And there's one more thing to be done," Celestia said as she rose from her pillow, lit her horn, and wandered over to the window. The transition of concentration on her face was impressively seamless, showcasing the hundreds of years' worth of experience she has garnered by repeating this exact same process every single day.

The moon accelerated downwards, quickly sinking below the horizon of mountains, and soon a yellow sphere lifted itself midmost to the sky, casting its brilliant ethereal light about the land.

"Let's head downstairs," she said, the golden aurora vanishing from her horn. "There's quite a few decisions to be made."

* * *

Corvo and the ponies stood in the crystal foyer, discussing whatever topics would pass the time, or anything that felt relevant. All round them, guards, stone-still and watching, waited with caution, either by the doors or near the pillars. Soon after Princess Cadence and Shining Armor made their entrance, the two closest guards bowing to announce this.

"Corvo, you never told us those theories you came up with," said Twilight, nudging him by the side. She was quite eager to see Princess Celestia, to know her plan, but she had to admit that she was more interested in what Corvo would decide. And all the while her friends were chatting several meters away.

"Hmm?" Corvo turned his head. He had been staring at the adjacent door where Celestia took Serath, much to his worriment.

"Your theories," repeated Twilight, raising an eyebrow, looking at where his line of sight had been directed.

"When Sombra could have possibly gotten his hooves on the Crystal Heart, yes," replied Corvo with careless attention. "Apologies for the change in thought, but not now. You said Princess Celestia will be here soon, and my first goal is to know what she told Serath."

"No need to worry about it," she said with a confident smile. "Princess Celestia only chooses what's best for her subjects; you just need to trust her judgement."

"I suppose so," said Corvo slowly and quietly, more to assure himself than a direct response to Twilight.

"Good to hear. Just stay here, I'm going to go speak with Princess Cadence and my brother."

When Cadence saw her approaching, the two smiled to each other, a way to lighten an overly grim situation. Her arm was on Shining's side, who prodded a hoof to his chin, more out of comfort than anything else.

"Is everything good with you?" asked Cadence, looking to her husband.

"I'm fine," said Twilight. She looked at her brother anxiously. "Are you okay?"

"I'd be lying if I said yes," he responded, heaving a heavy sigh. "King Sombra's smoke is spreading fast, and we're concerned that the ponies of Equestria are unable to evacuate fast enough, if at all. I've been talking to the generals of the Crystal Empire, and soon I'll need to discuss our next plan of action with Princess Celestia, but as it stands, we're in the deep end." However, he observed the two mares in front of him, frowning, both now with their arms round his neck, like they were helping him walk.

"Sorry," he spoke now with less contempt, embracing the two ponies he cared for the most in a quick hug. "I'm lucky to have you two by my side. That's what matters right now."

"No need to feel sorry, dear," said Cadence with a weak smile, planting a kiss on his cheek. "You're trying your best, and we'll always be here to support you."

"Cadence is right," added Twilight. "Sombra may be on the loose for now, but we have each other, and my friends. We'll get through this—all of this—together."

Corvo witnessed the trio smile, speaking with one another with these soft words of encouragement. He pursed his lips and went back to observing the double door. To his satisfaction, in a second a bright light grasped hold of its frames, and in the next second they swung open. In haste Celestia and Serath wandered over to where everyone else stood. Soon afterwards Discord revealed himself, still not letting go of his strange smile.

Immediately everypony gasped in excitement and trotted over to Celestia. Twilight quickly nodded to Cadence and Shining Armor and made her way to the white alicorn. Serath caught Corvo in his sights, giving the latter a suggestive smile and a shrug. Corvo himself lowered an eyebrow and waited patiently for what Celestia had to say.

"Serath, Corvo's friend, will be helping us," announced Celestia, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. "It will take a bit of getting used to, but I'm led to believe that his intentions are good at heart."

"No," proclaimed Corvo sharply, his tone strict and precise in what he wished to imply. "We are all trapped within a ring of fire, and adding one more person shall only be a liability to our current position."

"With all due respect," began Serath calmly, "this is my decision. Not only that, but Princess Celestia wants my help."

"But why?" questioned Corvo with persistence, closing the gap between him and his friend. "There are many people back at home who need you. This is far too dangerous."

"I am well aware that Sombra threatens our world as well," reproached Serath, almost sympathetically. "This is not only about you and me; if I leave and you are defeated, my home shall in all probability perish, and yours, too. I mean to protect them, and if that ends with me staying here, so be it. What do I have to lose?"

"Look at the bigger picture," said Corvo, gazing round him to see the ponies and Celestia all awkwardly listening. "If you die, what then?"

"But Princess Celestia will try to guarantee—"

"Whatever Celestia has to say is unnecessary, so why would I care?" said Corvo again in a large breath. "I say this to you in the best of interest: leave while you can."

"I can provide plenty of reasons as to why you should care," said Celestia, giving Corvo a hard look. "Fire and foremost, with the added input of Shining Armor and Princess Luna, I'll decide where we are to go. Second, I strongly encouraged Serath here to trust in his own judgement. Whatever that may be, it'll have my support."

Corvo pinched the bridge of his nose in clear frustration, and said through clenched teeth: "Were it more simple you may have had my consent, but very well then."

"I hope we are all well with one another by now," said Luna clearly, stepping into the foyer from the castle's front doors. Earlier she had been occupied within her own mind, aimlessly analyzing the frozen fields beyond the kingdom and, while she would not admit, eavesdropping on Celestia and Serath's conversation. Luna also made sure to read and count every single letter she had received from other parts of Equestria in response to Spike's warning.

Celestia exhaled, more exhausted than she would have liked, and confronted her sister.

"More or less," she said. "Serath will be providing his assistance." She turned her head to see Serath waving quickly at Luna. "He'll be in good company."

"While this is all fortunate," said Luna, her tone darkening, "I bring grave news. Spike sent a letter forewarning every single official of Equestria, detailing everything we know of Sombra at the present, with my mention. I expected, if not anything else, a note confirming my words."

Celestia tensed, waiting anxiously for Luna to announce what could be so unfortunate: every single word the latter spoke became more grim than the last.

"We've received affirmation from every single city and village in Equestria but one," Luna went on, lowering her eyebrows in pity; she viewed the six ponies, Corvo, and Serath, all leaning forth in wonder.

"Which one?" pressed Celestia hurriedly.

"The town of Tall Tale."

The room instantly broke into whispers of speculation. Corvo gazed upwards, in a vain attempt to recall which town Luna referred to. He had read up on Equestrian geography before, but this terminology was blurry in his mind at best. Serath simply turned to Corvo for any sort of explanation.

Celestia herself was in a working state of confusion, but despite this, she recapped her preparations and looked over every other pony in the room. "Everypony," she called out, "I was wondering if something like this should occur. If Tall Tale has not responded by now, then more likely than not we'll need to send an investigation."

"Do you think King Sombra has taken shelter there?" said Twilight, her face growing as pale as death.

Celestia opened her mouth to respond, but a difficulty to deduce this inquiry left her taken aback. Most importantly, did Sombra know this? Was it in his interest to lure them to Tall Tale, only to eliminate whomever she'd send?

Would they insist on sending me? thought Corvo, curious and skeptical, but he did not show this. Truly I am the expendable one present, alongside Serath. Is Celestia willing?

"Spike," said Luna suddenly, making the dragon jump in alarm, "are you absolutely sure you sent a letter to Tall Tale?"

"Of course, princess!" he replied, aghast. "I sent a letter to every single city in Equestria, just like you ordered. Not only that, I... I—" but he was unable to finish. He tensed, lifted his shoulders as his cheeks bloated, and in a single burp spewed out a small blast of green fire: it swirled in the air for a moment, condensed into a hot orb, and with a flash a scroll replaced the flame. Spike hastily grabbed at the parchment, at first incredibly surprised, then looked to Luna for confirmation. Relief momentarily highlighted their faces, temporarily expecting the best.

"Maybe they were just late with the reply," said Spike with a nervous chuckle. He unwrapped the scroll and read it over; and as each second went by his eyes grew wider and more hopeful. "Everypony, look!" he said, waving the paper in the air. "It's from Vanhoover. They're saying they have King Sombra in their apprehension. He's been caught!"

"Really?" gasped Celestia, quickly taking the scroll for herself to read. By the end of it she too could not believe it. However, her rational judgement caught up to her, and now a constraint of timely tension twisted in her stomach. "But how do we know this is real?" she said with a shadow over her face.

They all went silent, some looking round for clues while others went into a state of contemplation.

"But princess, there's even the mayor's signature at the bottom," said Spike. "You can't get more official than that, right?"

"King Sombra is just a single pony, correct?" said Serath unexpectedly. "Would it be possible for him to force this mayor's signature? Would he not have protection?"

"The writing itself is markedly natural," said Celestia with a bit more determination. "We can't be absolutely certain, but it would be foolish to avoid the chance we have."

"And what about the town of Tall Tale?" asked Shining Armor.

"I say we wing it," said Rainbow Dash, flying over her friends and landing in front of the princesses. "Both places need our help, so we give it to them!"

"We can all agree on that much, Rainbow Dash," said Cadence.

"But at the same time we cannot leave the Crystal Empire unsupervised," said Luna, surveying the guards round her. "Contrary, our reinforcements can keep a watch."

"Hold on just a minute!" said Discord, making himself known. "Are you all suggesting that we split into teams of two? If that's so"— he wrapped an arm round Serath and smirked, like he was ready to take a picture —"I'll partner with the doctor!"

Serath looked back and forth between Discord and Celestia with eyebrows raised. "Uh," he said with no clear direction, "what now?"

"It's just for convenience," Discord went on. He snapped his fingers, and in a white flash medial cloth draped over his paw, which now held a crutch. "If I get hurt, who'll be there to patch me up?"

"I have very few supplies on me at the moment," said Serath confusingly, "but I will try my best."

"How about we all gather at the round table and view our map," suggested Shining Armor, beckoning with a hoof. "We can conclude our first move there."

"Good call," said Luna, following behind him and Cadence. "We need to work as a team—cohesion and understanding are key factors that need to be played."

With this everyone else followed, eventually meeting up in a circular room, held up by arching crystal pillars; in the center gleamed a crystal table, hosting several seats. Waiting on the edge was a duffel bag containing maps, books, lanterns, even crystal shards which acted as stun inducers.

When everyone took a seat and a map was lain out, Celestia began: "Now then, we're here, in the Crystal Empire, Vanhoover is two hundred kilometers south-west. If you go even further south you'll find Tall Tale along the Unicorn Range mountains—the mystery at the moment revolves around this town. Any suggestions before we begin?"

"How about I take the initiative?" said Corvo, carefully observing the map. "I recommend that we split up into teams of two: one to investigate the peculiar silence from Tall Tale town while the other heads over to Vanhoover. Should the latter encounter Sombra—assuming the guards are competent enough to keep him secure—we shall take custody for the purpose of interrogation."

"And what are you planning on asking him?" asked Luna dubiously.

"Where the Crystal Heart is located, or if not, how to neutralize the black smoke," said Corvo, his eyes still fixated on the map. "What we do know is that Sombra stole the Crystal Heart before we all arrived here."

"But how is that possible?" said Twilight anxiously. "With Princess Celestia's initial warning the guards have been guarding the Crystal Heart. How could he have taken it?"

"He certainly could not have with Shining Armor and Cadence present," said Corvo thoughtfully. "From what I read she possesses mastery over the magic of love, which fuels the Crystal Heart. She is the Crystal Princess, after all. Therefore, Sombra must have stolen the Heart when she was absent."

"But I live here," reproached Cadence, doing what she could to rebound this possibility. "On the rare occasions that I do leave the Crystal Empire, Shining Armor stays here, and vice versa."

"Was there ever a time when both of you were gone?" asked Serath.

"How about when Corvo revealed himself the second time, back in Canterlot?" said Shining Armor, only as a suggestion so they could have something to latch on to, but upon saying this he too became intrigued.

Corvo's eyes widened in an intense realization, and with a quiet hum he proclaimed: "I understand what happened."

"Well, don't just keep us waiting," said Rarity. "Go on, tell us."

"Indeed, Corvo," said Luna, adjusting her seating so her line of action was directly with Corvo's, "what do you know, and how?"

"Chances are Sombra was following me up until I left, two years ago. In this case, he would need to understand where I come from, who I am, what I tried to do, of which he displayed knowledge. So, at some point or other, he was present during my second visit, and the only instance when Cadence and Shining Armor were away from the Crystal Empire was during that meeting of ours." He sighed in bitter memory. "The one where Luna shot me with her magic."

"Yes, I remember," said Luna slowly.

"It was in that moment when all eyes were on you," said Celestia, numerous memories resurfacing. "In that moment we summoned Princess Cadence and Shining Armor to cover all angle of our judgement—of the fear we had from you."

"Indeed," said Corvo. "But if this were all true, Sombra was aware of what I meant to you, Celestia, which means he was here even before."

"But we destroyed him!" said Twilight in a desperate attempt to prove this to be untrue. "Back when the Crystal Empire returned, how did he come back?" Somewhere along these lines a feeling of failure washed over her, now noticing the indication that they never did vanquish him for good.

"But surely these ponies kept guard of this Crystal Heart, no?" objected Serath, looking all round him.

"It is all about preparation," said Corvo, beginning to gnaw at the edge of his nail. "Sombra made it so all possibilities led to his return. And because he stole it so early on, I suspect a perfect decoy was placed. Now I understand. Because this were his magic, he eliminated this fake Heart, leading us to believe that he somehow performed a heist rather recently."

"Changing or moving something you've created from afar, like a remote control switch," echoed Celestia in agitation. "It's entirely plausible."

"And that's how he was able to trap me and Spike when we reached the Crystal Heart," said Twilight sadly, but upon noticing this Spike leaned in closer for comfort. She appreciated this more than ever now.

"Hold on jus' a minute," said Applejack, "ya mean to say the Crystal Heart was a fake for the past how many years?"

"Enough for it to count," said Celestia, narrowing her eyes over the map. "In any case, we must act. Every second lost is land being covered by his dark magic."

"Permission to enter, captain!" called a voice from the edge of the room. Shining Armor looked back to see one of his elite guards saluting. He nodded and saluted back.

"Everypony," said Shining with a smile, "I expected that we'd need to depart from the Crystal Empire. This here is Alloy Spark, one of Canterlot's best guards. He's new to the Crystal Empire, but with a discussion I shared with Princess Celestia earlier, he'll be keeping watch while we're gone."

It is that guard from earlier, Corvo noticed, making mental note of his arrival.

"It's an honour to bear a responsibility of such magnitude," said Alloy Spark with a trained monotonous voice, bowing before the princesses. "I will give my life to defend the Crystal Empire. This has all been planned out in advance."

"Good to hear," said Luna. "But how about we decide the split?"

"I shall go to Vanhoover," said Corvo before anyone else could volunteer. The edge of his memory became clear for a moment, recalling what Sombra had shown him in the illusion back at Canterlot. "I intend to get as close to Sombra as possible."

"That means I'll also being going to Vanhoover," said Celestia, and yet to her surprise Corvo didn't object, seeming entirely indifferent to this decision. "And... I encourage you to come as well, Discord."

"Oh, goody!" he sang, spinning on a single leg before landing on the table. "That means I'll have these two humans to keep me company." He waved, almost maliciously, to Corvo and Serath.

"No," said Celestia strictly. She grabbed hold of Discord with her magic and teleported him to her side. "You'll be coming with us on the more dangerous task; after all, we can make good use of your chaos magic. Serath shall go with the girls to Tall Tale."

"But..." Discord held up a finger in protest, but nearly froze in place when observing Celestia's cold stare. He cleared his throat and sighed with disappointment. "Oh, fine. You can have your way."

"I suppose you will have everything under control, sister," said Luna, sliding back on her chair. "It is a smart choice to be accompanied with Corvo and Discord to where Sombra is being held, as to not take any risks. As for myself, I shall help Twilight and her friends."

"I'm going with Princess Celestia," said Shining Armor adamantly. "She'll need my help."

"Are you sure, dear?" said Cadence by his side, wearing a nervous smile.

"Absolutely," Shining responded with a smile. "Go with Twilight, trust me."

It took some hesitation, but Cadence nodded in agreement, although her ears remained lowered in worriment.

Another minute of discussion proceeded, but most importantly to Corvo was the guard named Alloy Spark, who presumably waited for Shining Armor's dismissal. Almost without meaning to Corvo recalled what he remembered of this guard, and a dreadful instinct told him to remain caution, evidently agitated by new feelings, and the best way to see that through, as Corvo would say, is to understand the problem. And most suspicious—and this silently alarmed Corvo—was the sweat beginning to form round the guard's temple.

"Corvo?" said Celestia at length. "What are you staring at?"

He ignored her question, much to Celestia's annoyance, and rose from his seat, making his way to the unique guard. All eyes were now on him and this sudden action.

"What are you doing?" asked Celestia once again, lowering an eyebrow.

He held a hand up to her, indicating that he knew what he was doing, and said: "You there, Alloy Spark it was? You are new here?"

"That is correct," the guard responded without fault. "If memory serves, you and I accidentally bumped into each other. It was my first time wandering the crystal halls."

"And you are from Canterlot?"

"Yes."

"What were you doing the day before arriving in the Crystal Empire?"

"Hold on," interrupted Shining Armor. "Corvo, if you're curious you ask me these questions, but I'm not sure why any of this matters in the first place."

"Actually, let's see where he goes with this," said Celestia to no one in particular, and this only served to make half of the ponies in the room tilt their heads.

"I was packing my belongings," the guard went on, carrying that same flat tone as before. "It took most of my day, but it was in preparation to move to the Crystal Empire: a promotion to work alongside Captain Shining Armor."

"It's true," said Shining Armor matter-of-factly, wishing to get this whole ordeal over with.

Corvo groaned to himself and pressed on. He simply had to trust his gut. "What did you do upon receiving Celestia's announcement to evacuate the city?"

"Because I was needed here regardless, with Princess Celestia's permission, I gave out several final orders to those under my command before taking a train ride here. It was all in terrible haste, sir. I immediately ran out to notice the miasma of black smoke from the peak of Canterlot Castle, gradually sliding down to where we stood." His posture broke for half a second, and he sighed with a degree of pity. "A shame that those brave souls were unable to make it out in time."

Corvo sighed with extreme agitation, rubbing a palm over his face and wandering back to his seat. "Fine," he said at last. "Nevermind you."

The others simply shrugged at this odd behaviour, but Celestia found herself equally as disappointed as Corvo. For some reason she had wished to see him succeed in his train of thought.

"Will that be all, captain?" the guard said to Shining Armor.

"That is all," replied Shining Armor with a nod. "Dismissed."

Wait!" said Corvo loudly, doubtless to say so. "You saw the black smoke?"

"Yes," the guard responded, but not right away. There was a split second stutter in his voice, where he wished to first consider the question, but soon noticed the eyes watching him.

Corvo, now with an air of judgement, wandered over to Alloy Spark, the fall of his boots pressing heavily onto the floor below. "Like you said: immediately went outside and noticed the smoke."

On the most psychological level the air grew colder, more still, for the both of them. It took a bit of thinking, but Celestia vaguely caught on. Twilight and her friends anxiously kept looking back and forth between Corvo and the princess. Luna began to tap a hoof on the table, practically amused by what she was witnessing.

"Yes, sir," the guard said again, with long pronunciation.

The silent tension focused and condensed between the two, like a rubber band about to snap at any given moment. Corvo, with extreme slow and undetectable movement, reached a hand to the side of his blue greatcoat, while in haste, but forced to search sluggishly, for his crossbow. He had a sudden urge to look down and better maneuver his hand round the fabric, but the guard's enigmatically dilated pupils caught his attention.

In a burst of energy Alloy Spark, so suddenly and with such desperate speed that even Corvo was caught off guard, sprinted to Princess Celestia, his horn igniting with rapid crackles of magic: a wavering blade of magic and light formed in front of him. Exclamations of panic arose on all sides.

Corvo quickly lit his Mark, and in that very same second he attempted to stop time. But before he was able to process the command, before it could be completed, Shining Armor wildly pushed Celestia to the floor, right in front of the corrupt guard, and slammed back with his own magic. There was an instance of equilibrium, but the balance tipped in favor of Alloy Spark, who was too frantic to do anything else. The two unicorns crashed into the edge of the table, and fell down. The exclamations of horror redoubled.

Corvo and Luna rushed to both stallions. Alloy Spark weakly rose to his hooves, only to see, standing in front of him, Corvo, his Mark aglow.

With a swish of his arm Corvo blew the guard back with extraordinary force; the blast of wind carried so much energy that the only thing which stopped the airborne guard was the crystal wall opposite to them.

Celestia herself was far too occupied with processing what had just occurred; Luna angrily cried to all of the other guards in the room: "Arrest him! Take Alloy Spark to the dungeon and question him on everything if you must!"

Unfortunately, Shining Armor did not move, and twitched with incredible pain, judging by his feverish gasps of breath. Celestia worked this shock to the back of her mind, shook her head, and quickly went over to Shining Armor's side. She slowly turned him over; his mouth was open in what looked to be complete terror, but no words came through, and his neck was not its natural shape.

"Shining Armor!" Cadence cried with tears in her eyes, going as far as to teleport herself to his aid.

While the other guards apprehended Alloy Spark and bound him with magic, the others gathered round Shining, all with extreme confusion on what to do. Serath, without much hesitation, held a hand over his throat. Shining ceased to move.

"He will not die!" said Serath with incredible vigor, utterly ignoring the shocked expressions he received. "His trachea caved in due to the bash of the table. I need to force it open and apply a starting point of oxygen."

"No, wait!" said Cadence, about to use her magic.

"Nobody stop him!" Corvo interjected with a tone of demand. "He knows what to do."

Serath, despite his focused eyes and incredibly dire frown, was glad to have someone like Corvo by his side.

Reaching into his coat he pulled out a long, thin tube, its pointed tip hard metal and bent, while the rest a gleaming beige glass; the top was rounded and stuck out in diameter, disconnected from the rest of the glass.

What he did next looked so horrible that some covered their eyes, Cadence herself nearly jumped in shock, and Twilight put a hoof to her mouth in vehement disbelief. Here is what he did:

The doctor proceeded to stab this tube directly into Shining's jugular notch. He pressed on until a gradual resistance built up; then, he began to twist the top of the tube, and soon after a sound of rushing air shot within the opening, essentially creating an artificial airway. Shining's throat lifted itself, and he gasped sharply for breath. Serath used his other hand to lower a fluffy white piece of fabric, a very strange one the ponies had never seen before. In a singular motion Serath twisted the tube and, with a soft click, withdrew it—its metal tip remaining inside Shining's neck—and applied pressure on the opening with the white fabric. In seconds it stuck to his skin and flattened, successfully concealing it as to contain any blood. His hope was now placed on the off-chance that the ponies of the Crystal Empire were capable of continuing an emergency tracheotomy.

While most of them were shaking, Serath rose to his feet perfectly still and in control. He wrapped the reddened end of the tube with a small blanket and hung it onto the inner part of his coat.

"It will all be good now," he declared, rubbing the cold sweat from his forehead, with a weak laugh of levity. "Luckily this older model was still functional."

* * *

Twenty minutes had gone by, almost wastefully. Two secondary guards were obliged to carry their captain to the castle's infirmary, with Cadence stubbornly by his side in a panicked state. Twilight was traumatized at this point, unable to imagine that her brother nearly met his end right in front of her, and she did nothing to prevent it. Her friends were now always round her with sad eyes, always in a rush to do what they could to console her, and Spike practically felt the same way, being forced to watch the pony he most cared for mentally breaking down. It was funny in a cynical sense: she had seen Corvo nearly kill several guards, but when it involved her brother, she became more devastated than ever. Even back when Queen Chrysalis took over she knew that Shining Armor was physically okay, but now, his death was plain as day.

Corvo and Serath were seated next to each other on the second step of the wide stairway. The two men observed these things from the back, like they were shut in their own worlds.

"Oh, what I wouldn't do for a bottle of whiskey," sighed Corvo with weary feeling.

"Likewise," muttered Serath. "It has been a very unexpected morning." There was a moment of pause. "You have a little influence over here, no? Why did that guard attack Princess Celestia?"

"Possible assassin." Corvo was not the least bit disconcerted to assume this possibility, considering that he used to be one himself, and most of all, he knew how to deal with them. "Celestia described Sombra as a 'master manipulator.' Taking this into account, who do we even trust?"

Before their chatter could ensue, Princess Cadence herself, her face with evidence of considerable sadness, approached both men quietly. She put on a grateful smile and said: "Serath, was it?"

"Yes, yes it was," he replied heartily.

"Thank you," she spoke rather sadly. "Thank you so much for what you did. I can't ever repay you, not with words alone."

"Well, I get paid to do what I just did," said Serath, returning the smile. "But you are welcome. I sincerely hope the best for you and your husband."

Cadence's eyes glimmered with appreciation; she bowed before him, said "thank you" once again, and was off.

"That was some terrific initiative," said Corvo, his tone on the edge of whispering. "Most folk would be too stunned to even take a step forth."

"Corvo," said Serath, turning to his friend with these words, "I almost forgot to ask: what of these powers you possess?"

"Ah, of course, you must be ardent with curiosity!" Corvo lifted his left hand to show the black mark drawn onto his skin. "This here is the Outsider's Mark. He is real, as you may be wondering."

"I see." Serath rested his chin over his palm and hummed in thought. "He is real."

"Quite so. Now, before you post the inquiry, allow me to answer: I can teleport up to fifteen meters—I counted; I can stop time for for a total of twenty seconds should I hold my breath; I can blast gusts of wind; I can see in the dark and through walls; I can enter the minds of and control people for a short duration—"

"That sounds extremely suggestive."

"Depends on how you view it. Last but not least, I can... well, this is a bit complicated, and it's best understood with knowledge on chemistry, but I can essentially manipulate the thermal energy of atoms and their bonds, which in turn allows me to create tunnels of fire."

Serath was far too caught up in this strange revelation to comment back. He sat there silently, with his back hunched, alarmed at first, but then followed this with a friendly sort of chuckle.

"Quite useful, if I say so myself," he said suddenly. "With what you've been through, Corvo, and the plethora of criminals you track down on a weekly basis, no wonder fate has not reached you yet."

They both shared a brief laugh, long but quietly.

At this point Celestia was the one to approach them. She carried a white saddlebag adorning her cutie mark, but most irregular was her lack of a crown, or even the rest of her jewelry.

"We are about to get going," she said; "are you two ready?"

Corvo and Serath got up without words, simply giving slight nods and following the alicorn down the foyer. They now found themselves on the outskirts of the city, with crystal houses shining palely in the distance. Up ahead awaited a great locomotive, with a great deal of carts and long windows. The train shook with life, smoke spewed from its pipe, and its center door slid open.

"Princess Cadence and Shining Armor shall stay behind," said Celestia. "He is still in a bit of a critical condition, and it'd be quite cruel to have Cadence come along. She will stay by Shining Armor's side."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," said Serath. "Some say a soft bed is the second best medicine."

"What is the first?" asked Corvo.

"Actual medicine."

Princess Celestia, despite the light banter, began to despair. She could not imagine how foolish it was to not account for what had occurred. The single most essential thing in her mind was to defeat Sombra and keep the ponies round her safe, and this led to many inconveniences. But now, more than ever, the ones meant to be trusted posed an anticipating threat. At first she insisted that these troubles were a product of bad conduct, but now she wasn't so sure.

"Corvo, Serath," she said at length, "as you two must be in the need to know, Alloy Spark was interrogated. From what we've gathered, he was a spy working for King Sombra. I have no idea how or when this began, but he seemed rather open about it, even eager to—how do they say?—spill the beans. In any case, Princess Cadence shall now hold administration over the Crystal Empire for the time being."

"At least we know this much," remarked Corvo. "Hopefully he will be able to explain what Sombra's plans are, or where he may have hid the Crystal Heart."

"We can't do that," said Celestia disappointingly.

Both Corvo and Serath exchanged questioning stares, unsure of how to respond, and merely settled to wait for an explanation.

At last, and with an air of defeat, Celestia said: "Alloy Spark is dead—unexpected neck snap. We found traces of dark magic, so this was implanted within him beforehand."

Why am I not surprised? thought Corvo.

Meanwhile Serath shuttered with unease and without much attempt to hide it. "Perhaps Equestria is not as nice as I had initially presumed it to be," he said in an undertone.

Besides this there was an overall lack of reaction. If they were to out-smart King Sombra, rational thinking would be the only realistic route to take, so emotionally-charged comments were, for the most part, ignored for these three, as well as Luna.

"Say, how did you know that guard was an assassin under Sombra's influence?" said Serath. Celestia's ears perked, equally interested in what he had to say.

"A few things to notice," said Corvo. "He mentioned that this was his first time wandering the crystal halls; however, when I first met Alloy Spark his eyes were practically frozen, fixated on what was before him; he not once looked about his surroundings, as far as I noticed. If it truly were his first time, would he not, at the very least, look round a bit? This means he has been here before. Moreover, he claimed to have seen the black smoke on immediately departing from the castle, yet this contradicts with the time-span between when Celestia told the guards to evacuate the city and when he surely encountered Sombra on the roof. Everything else points to psychological imbalances, a desperation, or an abusive sense of trust."

And once again there was very little reaction.

At last they reached the locomotive. The thaw round it increased steadily, its metal wheels ringing and trembling with the kick-start of burning coal. Now everyone was on board: Celestia, Luna, and Discord were seated in the front, Corvo and Serath in the middle, and the rest, along with Spike, near the back. There was an audible blast of smoke, and the friction of the sprockets began to move, slowly, but in a few seconds they were off at a necessary speed.

And in less than a minute, they were beyond the Crystal Empire itself.

* * *

Some number of hours had passed, and by now Twilight had relaxed a bit, much to her appreciation of her friends' willingness to be by her side. The six ponies were gathered in a pair of two large seats, each opposite to the other. At a time such as this one, all the girls could do was wait.

"I would totally beat you in a cider-drinking contest!" said Rainbow Dash, rolling her eyes.

"Is that so?" said Applejack with mocking disbelief, crossing her arms. "If Ah recall, Rainbow, ya couldn't even hold yer liquor fer more than two bottles last time."

"That's not true!" she scoffed in protest. "Girls, what do you think?"

"I guess Applejack could drink more," said Fluttershy, but almost as a question. "I mean, she is the one who produces it."

"Pinkie, what do you think?" asked Rainbow Dash, waving Fluttershy off, much to her annoyance.

"I dunno, Rainbow," said Pinkie, shrugging. "But whatever the argument may be, none of you can beat me in a pie-eating contest!"

Rarity cleared her throat loudly, catching all of their attention. "Perhaps now is not the time for such outlandish guessing games. We need to discuss the importance of preserving Equestria, and"— she gave Twilight a soft stare —"to support one another."

"Heh, right!" said Rainbow, rubbing the back of her head.

"It's okay, I'm a lot better now," Twilight assured with a small smile. "I can't let these things get to me."

"Hey, Twilight," said Spike, "I'm not getting this entirely. I know Princess Luna will be coming with us to Tall Tale, but what are we gonna do there exactly?"

"Tall Tale is in the dark for all we know," said Twilight in reply, not only to Spike but the rest of her friends as well. "Like Princess Celestia said, we need to find out what's going on. At the same time, we'll need to be extra careful. And we might be able to stop by for some doughnuts," she added, noticing Spike's unsteady expression.

"Hold on a minute," said Rarity, addressing her in terms of dubious thought, "we are all on the same locomotive, and yet we plan on arriving at two locations at the same time."

"We'll be stopping a few kilometers north of the town first," said Twilight, "which means there's going to be a bit of walking involved. Once we're off, the train will continue on to Vanhoover. The plan is to regroup where we stop to get off, in between the opening of the Unicorn Range, by at least midday." She gazed out the window and hummed in thought. "Judging by the sun's position, it's probably about eight o'clock. There'll be plenty of time if we work efficiently."

"You could say that again," said Pinkie, confidently nodding.

"But for the time being, allow me to propose an interesting topic of discussion," said Rarity, smirking: "what are your opinions on this friend of Corvo's?"

"Can't really judge," replied Rainbow Dash flatly. She peered forth at the two men, unable to discern what they were discussing, but judging by how often their lips moved, what they were discussing seemed worthy of many opinions. "But as for Corvo himself"— she frowned and shook her head —"he's... cool. Maybe."

"Well, I think his friend sounds awfully nice," said Fluttershy happily. "If Princess Celestia and even Princess Luna are okay with him, why shouldn't we think the same?"

"Yeah, good point," agreed Applejack. "But as fer Corvo himself—aw, shucks, as much as Ah hate to admit it, he could really help us. Ah'm willing to accept that he's changed fer the better."

"Speaking of which," began Rarity, any sort of tone for the purpose of gossip falling flat, "I truly am grateful that Serath was there to save Shining Armor's life." But at this mention her ears flattened. "Dear, who knows what could have happened if we had decided to keep him out of our meeting."

"I didn't even thank him yet," said Twilight with bitter realization. She sighed and looked over her shoulder, then back to her friends. "I'm gonna have to do a little more than thank him, actually. I really owe him one."

But this did not have to wait. The stomp of foot-falls sounded from behind, and soon after both Corvo and Serath were there, seating themselves in the adjacent couch.

"We hope we're not interrupting anything important," said Serath with a polite wave. "Corvo and I thought it would be a good idea if I came by and we all got to know one another for the first time. Do you mind?"

"Oh, no, not at all!" said Twilight quickly with excessive welcome.

"We were actually just talking about you guys," put in Pinkie.

"Ah, good, good," replied Serath. He cast a quick glance to Corvo and said: "Pawn, D-five."

"All I can do is wish you all the best on your journey," said Corvo, in a state of what appeared to be mental examination of the room, darting his eyes back and forth between the floor and the ponies. "Queen takes D-five."

"Knight, C-three," said Serath. However, he noticed the confused stares they were receiving and said: "Ah, apologies. We are here to talk, no less."

"What're you guys saying anyway?" asked Rainbow Dash.

"It is just a bit of mental chess," replied Corvo. He placed his chin under his right hand, and smiled, like he were confirming something to himself. "Intangibility at its finest. Queen, H-five."

"Really?" said Twilight with evident intrigue. "When did you come up with it?"

"It was Serath's idea," said Corvo.

"I remember it now," he said in contemplation. "We were forced to take shelter in a library for a severe snow-storm blew with relentless cold outdoors. Normally we would bring our own chess boards and pieces, but not then. So, as improvisation ever goes, I came up with the idea of mental chess: it is a little difficult on the brain at first, but you must, at all times, be aware of where each piece is located, as well as visualize a board in your head."

"That's so cool!" said Spike, sitting on the edge of the couch. "You can actually memorize the exact positions of thirty-two pieces?"

"Yes," replied Serath rather bluntly, but nonetheless happy at the dragon's amazement. "I reverse my King and Rook."

"Not your best move," said Corvo with a mocking smile. "Bishop, G-four."

"But please tell me about yourselves," said Serath, slightly agitated that he was losing, attempting his best effort to figure out how to save his Knights. "I believe you lot can accomplish feats of magic?"

"Only unicorns can do feats of normal magic," said Rarity. She then spread her hooves in indication of her friends. "But when we are all together, darling, we have the most powerful magic of all."

And in unison they said: "The magic of friendship!" followed by confident smiles.

"Magic of friendship?" Serath looked up in wonder. "Pawn, H-three."

"As far as I know friendship in Equestria is still concrete magic," said Corvo, shrugging. "Knight, E-five."

"Yeah, but you gotta see these girls in action," proclaimed Spike with sudden enthusiasm. "It's like, before you know it, blam! rainbow magic thingy away!" But he chuckled nervously at the deadpan expressions the girls gave him.

"Hmm, fascinating indeed," remarked Serath, resting a palm over his cheek, giving a look of unsteady concentration. "I suppose Pawn takes G-four."

"Knight-F takes G-four," said Corvo with a pressuring lack of hesitation.

"Hey Serath, you said you're a doctor, right?" asked Rainbow Dash, who had at the moment flown closer to observe them closer.

"Master's Degree, a little over five months from my PhD, yes," he said rather quickly. "Knight takes E-five."

"What's a PhD?" inquired Pinkie Pie, tilting her head.

"A Doctoral Degree, or a Doctor of Philosophy if you care about the origin of language," replied Serath, but when she still gave him a confused face, he said with decision: "It is the highest position you can achieve in a professional work, at least for the time being."

"So does that mean I can get a PhD in"— she gasped and leaped up with great animation —"party planning!"

"Uh... no?" said Serath with a dumbfounded expression, unsure of what to say exactly.

"Party planning is a hobby, and even if it is a profession in Equestria, I doubt it's one taught at universities," said Corvo with dry conviction. "You cannot obtain a PhD in something so socially-pandering. Oh, and Serath..." He looked to his friend with a smirk, his voice growing more convincing as he spoke. "Queen at H-two. Checkmate."

"Oh, the shame!" said Serath with drama, but with such comical proportion to the point where it was obviously intentional. "I guess that means you have one more win than I do."

"And what do you do for a living, Corvo?" asked Twilight curiously.

"I am a detective," he replied. "A very well-traveled one, to imply. As for personal hobbies, I do many things: reading, writing, dabbling in engineering (well, I used to make my own equipment), completing puzzles, discussing philosophical subjects, mathematics, physics, playing chess—there are far too many of them to name."

"Wow, that's actually really impressive," commented Fluttershy. "I never thought you could have so much time on your hooves."

"Listen here," said Rainbow Dash, looking at Corvo attentively and rubbing a hoof under her chin, "I know I called you an egg-head earlier, but that could be a compliment too, right?"

Practically everypony round her gave obvious, deadpan looks.

"Okay, the point is," she said again, holding up her arms, "I have this science question that's been stuck in my head, like, almost forever. Here's the deal: I can fly and do a Sonic Rainboom," she now spoke with some transparent pride, "and according to what Twilight told me, it's like a sonic boom, and that's faster than the speed of sound—which is awesome, by the way. And the fastest speed possible is light."

"Let me guess," began Twilight with some amusement, "you're about to ask if it's possible to do a 'light boom.'"

With this inquiry a certain conviction flashed into Rainbow's brain and blazed out, impatiently, in her eyes; she was not even aware of her sudden animation and wide smile.

"Yeah, that's it!" she said, looking hard at Corvo. "Is that possible or what? Because if it is, I'm so gonna try it!"

"That is an unbelievably bold statement," chuckled Corvo. "Short answer: no. The sonic boom is caused by pushing the fluid—in all cases, the air we breathe—in front of the moving object faster than the local speed of sound. Such a condition creates a shock wave in a non-linear medium due to feedback between the pressure, density, and the speed of sound itself."

"A bit over-simplified, but go on," remarked Twilight, very much excited that Corvo was now discussing science.

"Perhaps I can go into more detail some other day," said Corvo again, rolling his eyes to himself. He now went back to Rainbow Dash and continued: "The equations of electrodynamics are linear, the wave speed does not depend on the local strength of the field, and no such shock wave can ever be produced in the electromagnetic field alone."

An awkward pause hung in the air.

"Er... I think I'll just stick to doing Sonic Rainbooms," said Rainbow Dash slowly, arriving at the limits of her understanding, settling back down onto her spot.

"Well, I for one think that sonic booms are entirely extraordinary in their own right," said Serath, once again smiling.

"It does me some good to see you all getting along," said Celestia, who had wandered down the aisle to meet them, and shortly after Luna revealed herself as well.

"Yeah, ya can say that," said Applejack in a teasing indication towards Rainbow Dash, one she did not attempt to conceal.

"Just whatever," Rainbow scoffed and crossed her hooves.

"Anyway, princess, we're getting along just fine," said Twilight with heightened eyes. "Did something come up?"

"Nothing to note," assured Luna. "As a matter of fact, I shall sit with you now—we will be travelling together, after all."

"But other than that," said Celestia, "Corvo, could you come with me to the front?"

Corvo raised an eyebrow, but did not ask why, and suddenly her authoritative thought struck him, and the certainty that he absolutely must hear what she would have to say. So he courteously rose to his feet and followed Celestia back down the aisle.

"Here, take this," said Celestia, now levitating an object from her saddlebag and placing it into his open hands. At this point they had stopped in the middle of the cart.

His eyes widened in great surprise, switching his gaze back and forth between her and what he had received. In his hands was his metal mask, perfectly put together as if it had never been blasted with magic in the first place. The event nearly melted his face off.

"I had a specialist fix it up for you," went on Celestia, continuing with this idea which had recently sprung up. "It does belong to you, right?"

"It does, yes," he responded with an odd undertone, sliding it under his greatcoat and, with a small click, it was stuck in place. However, he viewed the strange face Celestia gave him at first, but then sighed with an unwanted realization.

"That mask isn't just nothing," said Celestia again. "Believe me, I did have it repaired out of some kindness, but I also wanted to know what it represented. The idea came to me when I spoke with Serath back in the Crystal Empire. He told me that you used to kill in the name of the law, and that you no longer do so, but"— she smiled a cynical smile —"we all know that's not true. So I gave you that mask to see what you'd do. Everyone in this cart has seen you wear that mask, everyone save for Serath, and you put it away in your coat with a lot of suspicion, very secretively, which means you don't want him seeing it. Going off of that, I deduce this much: you're holding off a secret from him, one that may involve you still killing in the name of justice," she ended sarcastically.

Almost without notice they continued their gait.

"Why do you wish to know?" he asked with a tone of reproach. "Why is this relevant?"

"Why?" Celestia repeated, and what she told him next came out in a whisper: "Maybe curiosity is getting ahead of me. Just be careful with what you do, Corvo. Your last efforts aren't on very good grounds with me yet, neither is forgiveness"

"Are you blackmailing me?" said Corvo in disbelief, and with a facetious degree of annoyance.

"Well, when you put it like that..."

"Ah, there you two are!" said Discord, stretching his back and sliding all over the couch. "Corvo, you simply must cure my boredom. I've been here for the past thirty minutes with nothing to do but listen to Princess Celestia talk all about the political correctness of capturing King Sombra." He stuck out his tongue with distaste.

"And what's your idea of capturing him?" asked Celestia dubiously.

"Pfft! Obviously I'd go, sense the magical imbalances, all of that pizzazz, and capture him myself."

"And do you remember what happened last time you tried to 'capture' Tirek?" she said dryly.

Discord chuckled nervously and shook his hand. "But it wouldn't be like that this time and—oh, huff, alright! I suppose we'll have to do it your way."

Corvo meant to question Celestia on what she intended to do exactly, but in that very moment the locomotive came to a screeching halt. They had arrived at their first stop.

Author's Note

*I'm not making this up. It's mostly from the game's lore.

Chapter 5: Capital Supposition

"Remember the plan," announced Celestia to everyone in the cart. "Find out what's brewing in Tall Tale, gather information on the Crystal Heart if possible, and rendezvous back near the Unicorn Range."

A degree of fear, an uncertain reluctance, still hung over the ponies as they all wandered out the locomotive, followed closely by Serath. They turned round and waved a hopeful goodbye to their princess, and exchanged nods of agreement.

The door slid shut, and as the locomotive began to move again. Corvo, from the edge of a window, called back: "A word of advice from someone who has visited strange locations before: mind yourselves, have some courtesy, but keep a watch all about you."

A blast of smoke spat into the air, and the train sped up, and was now accelerating far down the track.

"Tall Tale is roughly seven kilometer south," said Luna. "We must move quickly and without straggle should we wish to achieve maximum efficiency. Let us move on!"

Such was the damp and mist that it was a while before daylight could break through the clouds, and it was nearly impossible to distinguish anything from afar. A white fog began to loll atop the fields and trees, a pulp of struggling visibility, moving in irregular streams by the chilling wind. Fortunately the fellowship carried a map—a fairly accurate one—and without much of an obstacle navigated their way round and about the geography and down the desired path. When they were only one or two kilometers away from the town, wandering up a hill and going round a bend, a conversation ensued.

"I've been thinking," began Twilight, readily, "if Vanhoover really has managed to apprehend Sombra, and we win once this and for all, what do we expect to find in Tall Tale?"

"We have got to be safe, and make no exceptions," replied Luna. "Why do you ask? Do you believe that this trip is a vain one?"

"No, not that, I don't think," said Twilight again. "It just feels weird. I have this strange feeling, maybe some silly premonition, that what's waiting for us in Tall Tale will be more surprising than what Corvo and Celestia and Discord are expecting to find."

"Fear of the unknown is the strongest sort of fear," said Serath at once. "The more mysterious, the more despair, as I like to say."

"Serath," said Luna, gazing at Serath with a vague concentration of astonishment, "would you consider yourself a philosopher?"

"A... philosopher?" he pronounced slowly, and with contemplation. "I don't believe I do."

"You seem to have a knack for theorizing."

"Theorizing? Oh, not at all. I may be decent, I suppose, depending on who you ask; Corvo is better at it."

"You guys are pretty different if you ask me," added Rainbow Dash with plain acknowledgement. "Both you and Corvo, I mean. He's really, er, disagreeable, and you? Heh, you seem like a bit of a pushover, no offence."

Serath was unsure of how to respond to this, and merely shrugged, as though unfocused on what they were asking of him. Luna, furthermore, noticed the transformed expression on his face, and added at once: "How would you describe your friendship with each other?"

"What do you expect to hear?"

"I expect to hear the explanation of a rather stable one; you two seem to have much in common, though I really do sense a sort of difference."

"No two friends are perfectly aligned in that way."

"I never said they were, but you strike me as the type who can befriend anyone in particular."

And indeed, Serath really did strike the ponies as the likable 'type'—in his own way, that is. But above all else, the ponies' feelings towards this friend of Corvo's were mixed, although far more inclined to embrace future, more friendly conversation.

"You really need to understand what we're thinking, Serath," said Twilight observantly. "A lot of paranoia about Corvo remained ever since he left, and now with you here the only instinctive respond would be hostility. But Princess Celestia seemed pretty sure in trusting you; we can't be one hundred percent sure on that matter, no doubt, but your help can prove to be valuable, and we're trying our hardest to move you into the more favorable circle. We just need your support on that."

"I hope to deliver then," said Serath, resuming his smile. "I myself put a great deal of trust in your venerable princess."

"And coming back to my question—?" said Luna with a searching tone.

"I believe our friendship stems from common likes and dislikes, plain and simple, as any psychologist would explain to a child." Quite beside himself he spoke with a casual air; and despite her efforts Luna found it impossible not to maintain such an agreeable discussion. He went on: "We talk, and talk a lot, in order to remain informed on all facets of our city; we enjoy challenging each other's viewpoints, and playing chess, and we find much value in the help we provide each other."

"Help?" echoed Luna differentially.

"I believe friends help each other whenever convenient or beneficial, and I suspect you ponies know this, if not for the product of your synergy, like right now."

"Good way to put it," said Twilight with a sheepish chuckle, and a faint smile crossed over her features. She thought for a while, paused and thought again, far too concerned with what to say rather than saying it, and at last, as one concludes the trivial complements before discussing the main topic, said: "And what about this philosophical side you alluded to Corvo?"

Serath's face turned quite pale in that moment, quite beside himself, and hummed thoughtfully and with vague indignation. "We debate quite a lot," he answered, casting a glance over to Twilight, then hurriedly looked forward once more. "Nothing in line with heated arguing, but more of, I would put it, intellectual sparring sessions. We possess many different ideas and discuss these ideas, which is what I meant my challenging each other's viewpoints."

"Oh, I get it," interjected Pinkie. "Like when deciding how you should solve a friendship problem?"

"Not particularly. Our friendship is not in any problematic waters as far as I can see."

"Care to elaborate on that, dear?" inquired Rarity.

"For starters, I guess, we often converse about any recent political news, mostly in our own country."

"Po-li-ti-cal?" Pinkie pronounced with an effort, and lowered her eyebrows.

"What news do y'all talk about exactly?" asked Applejack with intense curiosity.

"Er, the legislature concerning our government—parliament, and how they should go on about taxes, their military, the marketplace, ideological regimes, that kind of news." Serath was profoundly bewildered, even taken aback, by the extraordinary faces and questioning eyes the ponies led on to him. It was as if their long-held presuppositions were unexpectedly shattered, and they did not know what to say next.

"Why would you have to talk about any of that stuff?" asked Fluttershy at last.

"So neither of us grows bored," replied Serath, so readily in his reply, in fact, that he shrugged without noticing it.

"And what's a parliament, if ya don't mind mah askin'?" asked Applejack curiously.

"Ah, I failed to realize," said Serath, as though disappointed in himself. "You ponies are ruled under a diarchy, or at least all the signs point to that type of government. And a monarch whom you trust wholeheartedly—very lucky."

"You think we're in luck for living beneath Princess Celestia and Princess Luna's rule?" put in Twilight with a hint of animation. "I mean, regarding back to the wilderness or the dragons' homelands, you can say that, bluntly so, but hearing it from you—and you have nothing to compare Equestria to in relation to this world's other locations—what's it like living in... the place, where you live in, er..."

"Dunwall, to be certain," said Serath with a faint, if not pale, smile; "and to be even surer, the north-west Isle, right besides—ah, I shall not bore you with a slog of my history."

"Please don't hesitate," said Luna, almost mechanically, as if she were subtlety faking some sort of weariness. "We're not going anywhere, ought to pass the time by listening to new experiences I'm unfamiliar with. Actually, please do: living for thousands of years is only wonderful at the start."

"You've piqued my interest as well," said Rarity, nodding. "Our species—they can only get so different from one another, and you must hold a wealth of knowledge to share, hardly a bore."

Given in to these unexpected and most interested requests, Serath, failing to see any sort of harm in telling these ponies the basic history of his world—the common sense every child in school would know—told them of Dunwall's history. Now then, I won't actually outline the political junctures of Dunwall because I don't wish to bore you yourself, but if you must know, in Serath's brief words:

"Dunwall is the capital city of our country, subsequently powered by whale oil. It was established under a legislation some two hundred years back, which put the ruling empresses side-by-side with a limiting parliament—if you don't know, a bureaucracy. Beforehand, like most of the laboring world, absolutism took hold of the city. In a mischievous spout of war the king was eventually overthrown. Nowadays, we work by a parliament government, that is to say, a fusion between the executive and legislative branches, which, for now, is the reason we took up stable sovereignty a long while back, that is to say, after the war."

This is only but a sizable piece of information. Serath, unable to restrain himself, went on for nearly five minutes concerning the historical events which led to the first empress, the multiple factions which dug up old civil war tendencies, and their current situation now, with the (in his opinion flawed) democratic elitism.

All the ponies learned rather quickly how little they understood these specificities of political life, all save Luna, of course. And maybe Twilight, if only by her studious nature.

"You know, girls," began Rainbow Dash, chuckling in caustic tones, "that feeling when you, like, totally don't get something so much you don't even know where to begin when asking questions. Oh, uh, I'm totally talking about you guys!"

They all agreed quickly, even excited to get this history lesson over with, albeit with ironic eyebrows raised at Rainbow's last remark. Serath didn't mind this blind disregard, much to his surprise. He couldn't possibly blame them when he himself knew very little of Equestria. But then again, he would think, these political ties are extraordinarily common. They had to exist in Equestria.

"I know what elitism is," commented Twilight bluntly, but nonetheless inclined to extreme curiosity. "But what's a 'democratic' elitist regime?"

"A small group of higher-ups, most of whom are in charge of the economy," said Serath fixedly. "Their influence is entirely independent from the state's elections."

"This democratic elitism—you called it flawed," said Luna. "I wonder what you would propose: equal power among the citizens?"

"Not entirely," sighed Serath, as though confused himself. His first stood in firm support under his chin, and he kept his walking pace consistent with that of Luna's. "Please bear in mind that I am a doctor, not a graduate of politics, but I do loosen my time every once in a while to think about how the world works, and how it ought to: practice to theory is best, I would say."

"You mentioned the way Corvo and you hold friendly debates," said Twilight, as if to change the subject. "Know what his comments would be if he were walking at our side right now?"

A quick, staggered laugh escaped Serath's lips; he looked up in contemplation, only for an instance, and cast a glance to Twilight. "I cannot say with certainty. I am not Corvo."

"I meant what's your guess," she said again with expectation.

"He is somewhat of a patriot," replied Serath after a pause. "Well, this is to say, he is well above my feelings in that regard. Although, now that I think on it, he has been acting very lukewarm about his city."

Luna momentarily considered this odd sentiment Serath displayed for his friend, but only to learn all she could of Serath's personality and interests to, in her mind, be on guard should anything unfortunate occur.

"This does not cause any conflict between you two, these deep-rooted and rather sensitive disagreements?" she inquired at length.

"Makes no difference to me," said Serath, completely steadfast in his wording. "There are very few things I require from someone if we are to be compatible: I wish for them to be intellectually curious; I wish for them to be unafraid to display a sense of humour; and above all else, if we are to become friends, their loyalty."

"Well struck," said Luna with incredible satisfaction.

At last they had arrived. The remote village of Tall Tale stood seemingly crooked about half a kilometer off, which came into sight when the company took a turn round a particular road. It looked like this town was built by ancestors many generations prior to now over several contradicting hills—of course, by contradicting these hills lumped over one another, as though fighting for the spaciousness of territory, under the watchful sky. A single acre, assumed to be wilting now with very little vegetation, lay flat on the east side of the community. A pony or two would wander by, from behind one leaning house to the next, every minute. By the time the company had reached the first signpost, which stood almost touching an aging fence, they had witnessed at least a dozen ponies, the inhabitants. It was decently populated at best.

It was not long before a pegasus stallion of dubious attire flew over to them in a moment's notice, bowed respectfully at the sight of Princess Luna and Princess Twilight, and addressed himself as Air Hoof.

"Greetings there!" this was how he began. "Not often we get visitors at daybreak, so please excuse us if any of our services appear to be unaccustomed at first. I humbly ask what brings you to Tall Tale? I go by Air Hoof."

Unique styles of names often come with different cultures, this I know, thought Serath; but Air Hoof? I suspect that in Equestria parents pull words at random from censored dictionaries when naming their kids.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance," said Luna, shaking the stallion's hoof shortly after his bow. "These are my friends." She stepped aside and the six ponies wandered over. Naturally they all said their names and were equally polite in their introductions.

However, Air Hoof raised an eyebrow and pointed at Serath. "I've met griffons before, even a couple of yaks in my time, but I've never seen anything like you before."

"Serath Hemsworth," said Serath out of practiced habit, although an air of nervousness rose in his tone. But he instantly noticed this and cleared his throat. "I may be outlandish in appearance, but truth be told, or written, this is my first time in Equestria as well."

"Oh," said Air Hoof with a visible nod, and then a smile. "You seem pleasant enough, a far cry from what a monster would be. Please, if this is a visit, feel free to stop by the inn. Auntie Grape Shot can tell you a bit more about our humble abode."

"Please tell me a spa is in use not a long's way off," announced Rarity, clearly bringing attention to herself. "Look at these hooves: they're practically begging for a rest in the steam!"

"I'll join you, Rarity," said Spike with a wide grin. He chuckled shamefully, however, at the mockingly straight face he received from Twilight.

"Ooh, ooh, I hope you have a bakery here!" said Pinkie with animation, bouncing forth for a closer look at this village.

"Yes, I would very much like to see what your inn is peddling," said Serath, also requesting secondary distractions. "In fact, I think no one here has been treated to a proper breakfast just yet."

"I must remind everypony that we are here on business," said Luna, louder than the rest, but not quite a shout. "I'm afraid courtesies have to be cut short. To ensure the safety of Equestria and its citizens we are obliged to ask a few questions, and possibly an investigation is needed, if it's not a bother in your context."

Air Hoof danced his eyes from pony to pony, then to Serath, then to Luna once again, and hummed thoughtfully. "Hmm, yes, quite, I understand if you've any current duties. Please, at least let me guide you to the local inn. Only a block down that way. I shall answer any and all questions you may pose, princess, and perhaps your companions can peruse whatever catches their interest. Marketplace is still well and alive here."

They agreed, of course, and were led down the dirt path, past a dozen houses, some taller than others, at either side. Minding the unattractive aesthetics of this town—with the bent dwellings, lack of flowers, and dull colours—everything played out normally. It was merely an offshoot village, and a large village at that, though not as expansive as Ponyville. Several ponies waved plainly as the travelers swept by, with a few lot even bowing quickly. One thing was unmistakable: amid Tall Tale, Serath stood out the most intensely.

* * *

"I tell you: the rook easily hooks the bishop in usability," Corvo went on insistently. "Not much to learn from the latter if you manage to have the knights figured out. But the rook reaches maximum effect when complemented by pawns, which are themselves integral."

"I have to disagree," reproached Celestia, readily, now moving her gaze from the window. "Most of the best tricks in the book puts more importance on the bishop. You can't ignore how far it can reach, given the right circumstances."

"Practice to theory," said Corvo again. "You can go on until the sun eclipses the moon about how the bishop could be of assistance, and it is, I don't mean to disregard it like that, but such a piece is not nearly as much a utility as the rook, which the best players take advantage of the most."

"And the queen beats both of them!" put in Discord with fake enthusiasm, as though in a desperate attempt to pass the time by joining in this conversation, even if it did not interest him in the slightest. No investment on his side.

"We were not talking about that," said Corvo dubiously.

"I know," deadpanned Discord. He slumped back onto his seat, accompanied by a deflating sound. "I've heard the stories, and now I hear the present—why must you and Princess Celestia always talk about chess? Where's the sport if both teams kick off with even opportunities?" He then added grumpily, which seemed to be an effect of his boredom: "Besides, perfect play on both sides shall always lead to a tie."

"Perfect play does not exist," said Corvo.

"It can," countered Celestia.

"It can, but it does not," said Corvo again, carried by a complacent certainty. "And I must ask, Celestia, out of sheer spite, for the sake of knowing: when was the last time you handled a round?"

"Two years ago, against you. Remember?" she replied with equal weight. "I like to spend my free time on more productive endeavors. And," she now spoke with admiration, and was entirely aware of this, "there's no entertainment in it anymore ever since you left. You're the strongest player I've ever encountered, truth be told."

"I can name up to a dozen contrarians whom could very well give me a hard time," said Corvo, sighing. "I entered a tournament last year, in fact. I well-funded one. Lost on the third round."

"How many rounds did your 'folk' work up?" asked Discord.

"Seven."

"I hope either of you two kept any conversation starters in store for later," said Celestia, rising from her seat. "We're here."

"Oh, goodie!" sang Discord, teleporting from his cushion to in-between Corvo and Celestia. He observed the distance with squinted eyes, as though piercing through a white fog. His wry smile, reflective of the dubious mischievous at the edge of his mind, widened even further as he rubbed his palms. "Well now, what's the plan? You barge through in a rush of heroism, ever so adamant on the city's safety? Or do we interrogate King Sombra, beat the information outta that rascal? Or maybe you two stay put, and I'll be the one to get the credit!"

"Not what I had in mind, Discord," said Celestia, making her way down the aisle. "We'll be met by the security, naturally. They expect us. I will be the one to talk with King Sombra, if he truly does lie in chains. First and foremost—and we better do this fast—we have to meet the mayor first. Corvo, you'll be by my side the whole way through. Discord, don't try to scare anypony off, and if you can, see if you sense any dark magic in the air. Think you can do it?"

"Well, when you word it like it's a challenge, I just have to accept," replied Discord, losing his own childish exterior to better focus on the matter at hand. "But you didn't say I have to stay close, so I'm off to business. Good luck!" He snapped his fingers sharply, and was off.

"Wait!" Celestia called back instantly. "Ugh, fine. Let's get going. The train is coming to a stop."

"Celestia," called Corvo, quietly, but in grave surprise, his observations locked on the window, like something were holding him in place. He rose from his seat at last, and cast an intent interest in Celestia's bewildered face. He crossed his arms. "The case may have gotten a tad more complicated."

As the train slowed forth, the distant structures swiped by one another, until it revealed a bright blaze in what looked like the city's central point. When the locomotive finally screeched and shook still, there was no mistake to be made: waves if bending heat capped dozens of buildings, even spreading onto the streets. Dull shrieks and cries sounded off as they dropped off and approached the main road.

"What happened?" asked Celestia to no one in particular. The whiplash of confusion and terror remained washed on her protective instinct to get there as quickly as possible, which transformed into action as soon as this new revelation revealed itself.

Without much objection she teleported the two of them there, right at the city gate, which had been twisted inwardly, half its bars on the floor. The whole city was caught in a torrent of flames. While the buildings themselves weren't nearly as tall nor as expansive as that of Manehattan's, this was seemingly impossible nonetheless.

"How could this have happened?" said Celestia, aghast, turning her head about in vain for clues. Guard-ponies busied themselves on the sidewalks, evacuating as many residents as needed. The streets were in a frenzy.

Discord appeared, fortunately enough, along the lines of rapidly snapping his claws and paws, summoning up levitating water hoses to dull the flames, or large trampolines to catch the falling ponies. At last he caught sight of Celestia and (a momentarily dizzied) Corvo, and dashed to them right off.

"This is not what I expected!" he spat out, in utter annoyance. "Everypony here has lost their minds!"

"Let me take the tiller," said Corvo, shaking off the effects of teleportation. "Sombra is obviously behind this attack, and this wildfire cannot have happened in the course of a few hours."

"It was spreading when I got here," said Discord.

"Two things to know," said Celestia, stretching her wings for takeoff. "How King Sombra managed to do this, and why. If it's to get our attention, he'd still be here."

"Princess Celestia!" called out a guard. "Thank goodness you are here!"

"What happened?" she asked with piercing authority.

"As you must have read in the letter, we apprehended King Sombra," he went on, hastily, as if something else were on his mind. "We kept him in the interrogation room, applied several anti-magic tools to keep him in check. Yet before we knew it, he vanished, just like that, and the fire flashed up, one flame after the other, almost endlessly."

"Discord," said Celestia, "you keep doing what you're up to. Get as many ponies out of here as you can manage. I want nothing more than to go after King Sombra, but I can't abandon these guards just yet."

"I can," said Corvo, neatly making certain his sword was besides him. "Let me race to the city's center. What? No, I will find it, no need for a guide."

The guard, far too distraught to ask about or, frankly, care who Corvo was, blurted out to both of them: "That's the problem! That whole section seems to be cut off. Too much smoke to handle, and not a single living soul has managed to escape. But what shakes me the most," he spoke after a large and unsteady breath, "is what is on everypony's minds. None of them around city hall or downtown are even trying to escape."

"You lot stay here," said Corvo, in the beginning of a long sprint, "I will head there. Do what you must!"

Before Celestia could even raise an objection, she witnessed cries for help from within a burning house, and rushed to it in flight. Discord simply shrugged to the guard, who went on to his own business, and flew up to help as well.

This felt strange indeed. The further Corvo proceeded to the center of Vanhoover the quieter it became, save for the loud waves of fire. Darkening smoke began to clog up, clouding his vision. At that moment we wished nothing more for a fire-extinguisher spell, but his Mark could only create them. At last he took cover in a house, apparently burnt black but freed from the flames altogether.

Smoke is too thick, he processed. I saw this city hall the guard spoke of, four blocks further down. I cannot get through like this. He looked over and ahead, viewing the rough outline of a large, circular construct, much like the one in Ponyville, but wider in diameter. Come now, Corvo, what can you recall? Books on house fires? No, those are rubbish. Survival guides on how to survive the smoke? Ah, enough with the jests; I wish to pass through the smoke, not dwell in it. I remember when Rarity proposed that riddle about the two guards in the prison cell. How did I figure it out? Of course, mathematical proof: a positive can only equal a positive when transitioned through another positive, but should it join with a negative, its true nature can be revealed. If I must pass something beyond this smoke...

He jumped up, ran out of the house and towards the smoke.

I may only create heat, but if the laws of thermodynamics apply, I can move the smoke in a chain to areas with less potential energy, thus decreasing its initial energy overall.

With his Mark brazenly ignited he swiped his arm; the smoke turned a dull red, and distortions took hold. Soon enough the smoke seemingly grew heavier, falling down into dense concentrations on the ground, and new walls of fire shot up on the sidewalks. Next, Corvo added in a wind blast, the strongest he could reasonably muster, and momentarily cleared a path. Lastly he slowed time—which was the limits of his body—and ran straight through.

After an entire session of his breath held his Mark turned black—a whole minute of agony, it seemed—the smoke collapsed and exploded back into the air. Luckily for him he overcame this obstacle and found himself on the main road again, if only by the skin of his teeth.

Hundreds of ponies were mindlessly running all about, with no notion of his existence. There was town hall, ablaze as everything else looked to be. The front double door was shaking in and out, accompanied by broad bangs, like a whole crowd were attempting to escape. He steadied his breathing—for using that many spells for such a period of time straight fatigued him greatly—and jogged up the steps. Something was definitely wrong here: these ponies ran around like headless chickens, desperate for life, yet remained there, at the heart of this outbreak.

He teleported up to a ledge, carefully, and slipped through an open window. There was something or other about sneaking into places such as this, without him wearing his mask, which left him growing uncomfortable, but he put this feeling at the back of his conscious.

When Corvo reached an indoor balcony, he witnessed only an even stranger sight. The place stood as a wreck, absolutely gutted, and presently alight by the flames as well. On what looked to be a stage stood the mayor, he supposed, watching with empty eyes at all the ponies trying to break free. No guards were in sight. This pony held the look of one disconnected, nonchalant about violence, and like he dreamt up every possible nightmare imaginable.

Corvo teleported to the floor and up the stage he ran.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

The mayor did not respond; in fact, he even leaned to one side, catching the view of the ponies, even somewhat vexed that Corvo blocked his view.

"Where is Sombra?" Corvo asked once again, nearing the end of his patience.

"He gave me a promise," said the mayor with a strange calmness.

Corvo looked round for anything to set his eye on, at the same time taking out his folding sword and mechanical crossbow. "Tell me what happened here."

"Mister Sombra," the mayor got out, looking down in shame, "what a lovely stallion. He came in here and promised me an interesting life. But first, I had to do him a favor."

"Some favor," remarked Corvo, and then looked back to the mayor. "Where is he?"

"Look at those ponies. All tumbling over the other, only caring about their own safety. Mister Sombra told me to expect that, but to not accept it."

Corvo heaved a long sigh. This pony was clearly out of his mind.

"At the very least tell me where he has gone."

"Upstairs!" spat out the mayor in feverish animation. "He said to not worry about it, though." The mayor took small steps closer to Corvo.

"Upstairs?" said Corvo. "I suppose I can run up, perhaps use my Dark Vision to scan the area." He started to walk away, but the mayor shrieked, and grabbed at his arm.

"Where are you heading off to!" he cried.

Corvo attempted to shake him off, and with serious effort, but the mayor's grip was too dedicated at keeping him put, only further made obvious by the frantic look in his eyes.

"Where else do you think? Get off of me!"

"No! No! If you find Mister Sombra, he'll surely kill me. He promised me! Don't—"

Corvo at once shot a bolt through his skull, and the mayor flung back with a thud, now still as stone and caught in the fire.

He lit his Mark again, the entirety of the environment now overlapped with a blue filter; every single pony was outlined in a golden glow, even a couple of still figures up above, and some still moving.

Corvo made his way up the building, ignoring the cries for help. Every few floors he would cast a glance out an opening, to witness the faraway buildings and houses destroyed by the circling fire, and silhouettes of ponies frantically galloping from every single angle.

Trouble arose, unfortunately. On the way up, much like the mayor, several ponies—all donning office-appropriate uniforms—went as far as to tackle him, in a way to prevent him from reaching the top.

Corvo managed well, avoiding these instances, and slaying a few he found particularly troublesome. At last he reached the rooftop, and there sat King Sombra, gazing upon the city like it were a portrait.

As if previously rehearsed, Sombra turned round and waved to Corvo.

"Didn't think you'd get up here," he began, that sense of mindfulness in his expression, but nevertheless amused in his own tidings. "Did mayor Puff Cloud reveal my location?"

"He did," replied Corvo with gravity to his phrasing. He wandered forth until both he and Sombra stood facing each other, some five yards apart.

"Hmm, pity. Looks like I'll have to garrote him after all, just like I specified."

"No need," said Corvo, almost restlessly. He spun back his sword and stored it away beneath his blue frock coat, but this only led to him holding his crossbow with two concerned hands.

"I gotcha," said Sombra, extremely satisfied with himself. "But you make decent company, Corvo. It's good that you're here. Was starting to drift off in boredom, see. This place reeks of filth."

"What were you expecting?"

Sombra hummed to himself with added reflection, and, much to his intention, shrugged after a second or two of thought. "I don't know. Scent of roses?"

"Would have been nice."

"I'm obliged to agree." Sombra now smiled a caustic smile. "Don't look at me like that! I know why you're here: to put an end to my line of work. Don't get your feathers rustled over what's been going on for me and what's not been going on for you. Despite the appalling things ponies have said about me, I tend to disagree. I am as honest as can be and have the heart of a happy child. I keep it in a jar on my desk."

"Curious," said Corvo, "how did this all fall into place? I suspect you know Celestia is a way's off, lending her hoof to the guards. Discord is here, too. A promise—mayor mentioned it."

"Do you think my plan is complicated?"

"Probably."

"But it is ever so simple." Sombra cleared his throat. "I let myself be captured, yes. Most of Equestria by now has me on its mind, the shadowy smoke I conjured up, evacuate from the country, et cetera, et cetera. I was, of course, hanged up for questioning, that is to say, imprisoned. Magic-absorbing locks, too. I talked with a certain interrogator, and yet I was dying to leave. Under different circumstances that would be a proposition, but I digress. I, ahem, convinced the interrogator to let me see the mayor. He came. We spoke for about half an hour, and all I did was make a few promises; in fact, any promise worded correctly shall capture the will of anypony. He let me go of the locks, convinced I was sincere—"

"You expect me to believe they simply let you out, just like that?" interrupted Corvo, his crossbow halfway raised to Sombra now.

"But they did!" reproached Sombra, and his next words left his mouth with cold earnestness. "I told the mayor that his life was unsatisfied, and he took my rhetoric with feeling. I told him he could do so much more, that I hadn't killed anypony yet—which is technically true—that I was there to negotiate myself. We went for a walk. I even persuaded the guards.

"And, you know, the mayor put his heart on me. The mad stallion he is, or turned out to be, so many troubles in his life. Horrible, really, unlike you, Corvo. He went on and on about how soothing my voice was to him, and even some of his secretaries joined in on the conversation. I discussed their matters as well. Everything here occurred in the last six hours. What I had to say spread, of course."

The careful recount of Sombra's story took him to look down in disappointment, and sigh heavily; that expression, ever so mysterious in its possibilities, paused the moment—only for a moment, that is.

"But why not set a bit of excitement?" he said again with a horribly twisted smile. "You are only as good as the opinion your enemy holds of you. Well now, my magic was freed from the suppressors, and I could influence those more conveniently, only then complemented by my ideas. I didn't know what I was doing. Even so, I found myself dictating the actions of most ponies within city hall, and advised them ever so politely to let me use all my magic. A mare in particular even wanted some alone time with me."

"You used your magic to burn the city down," said Corvo at last, matter-of-factly.

"I only wanted to light a few buildings at first," he laughed, "but what do you know? I got carried away, I guess, and created flames so bright it drove everypony frantic. Naturally, just to see what would happen, out of sheer spitefulness, I locked every single door here; I wished to observe the ponies, wished to see what they would do, out of curiosity. I never meant for all of this, just a stick in the bucket, nothing more. And before I regained control, everything else was covered in fire. And you know what's the worst part?" he coughed out, unable to control himself, both laughing and gritting his teeth. "I even told some ponies to shut off access to the water plant; it took a bit of convincing, but they did it for me. And all I did was add more fuel to the ever-growing fire. I can't believe what has come out of this!"

Corvo, much to the rarity of Sombra's shock, kept himself in utter stillness, his face that of someone who was gazing at birds.

"And why do any of this?" he asked.

"Because... I can," replied Sombra, close to a personal undertone. "The world is so full of intriguing ponies, or any other sentient creatures, like people, like you. The point of a civilized society is to live together despite our prejudice towards one another, despite these differences. Some ponies simply do not see that. So I myself, at the end of it all, want to know what it's like to live in a place with no differences at all. What's the best way to come about that?"

"We exist to disagree, nothing more, all of us," said Corvo with a smirk, letting his voice carry his mood. "Which is why I am here. You cannot get something out of nothing, and if we were all to agree, you have no substance. That is your motivation, I suspect: to be the last pony alive."

"Wr-on-g!" Sombra spewed out in an incredible fit. "I made all that up, I admit it; yes, I did! Just to see what you'd say, that is. I may twist the truth every now and again, but I do so with humility, to better understand the consequences for our actions and, better yet, our words. If I act like a buffoon, it's seriously justified in the end, I think. I lie to end my lies, and I comment on matters like these—to meddle, that is—just for the absolute sake of it. I didn't mean a thing of that, I said it because... because... I can!" he laughed more violently than before.

"Still unable to call myself satisfied," said Corvo, his smirk fading away. "I have experience with lunatics like you, so let us skip the flirting. I do not care what your intentions are, what they could be."

"I get it. Fine. Maybe I kill for the sport of it, maybe not. You want me to come with you, right? I'm positively ecstatic to hear what Princess Celestia has to say."

"You are not getting off cheap," said Corvo, angling his aim so that it was directly parallel to Sombra. "Unsavory as it seems there is a silver lining here—on my behalf, that is." He snapped the trigger, and a bolt pierced Sombra's horn, halting halfway. Sombra himself stumbled back, but his face showed no signs of pain, only contempt.

Corvo creased his brow and groaned at what happened next. His horn, along with the bolt, vaporized into smoke at first, and then disappeared completely. Right away, forming out of the bursting black bubbles and green hue of magic, a new horn shot upwards. Sombra twisted his neck, evidently in discomfort, and let a small smile curve on his lips, like he were enjoying it somehow.

"That hurt," he said gravely, and lit his horn in dark magic. "Maybe this will hurt you a little more."

On reaction Corvo activated his Mark as well, directed his palm to Sombra, with the intention to possess him, for he felt a cool irritation pass through his head. In harmony both of them entered into the mind of the other.

* * *

Serath and company at last reached the inn Air Hoof so proudly spoke of. They entered to find at least five tables on either side, and round the corner a door leading off to a second floor. The counter was there, up against the wall; an elderly mare, a unicorn, navigated several bottles and mugs from a shelf onto the a small cabinet. Her face was gaunt, with shallow eyes and greying hair, her heavy cheeks evident of her proud ownership of this so-called establishment, yet little history could be evaluated. Nothing necessarily off, if not for her seemingly paranoid twitches, which wasn't at all on her alone, but everypony else in the inn, which only Serath managed to notice.

When the ponies entered, a small bell clanged soundly; she looked up to determine who it was this time, but nearly tripped on her own hoof to see two alicorn princesses, followed by five other ponies, and a tall being she'd never set eyes on before, wander over. Air Hoof was the last to enter.

"Your Grace! Both of ye!" she cried in animation. She rattled the bottles and mugs away, clearing the counter. "I has only got meself finished work."

"Auntie, these here are recent arrivals, and on official business," said Air Hoof. They decided to sit down, except for Twilight and Serath, who both preferred to stand and look round.

"Ah, yes, good on ye!" she said. "No Yakin' mead to be found, but no wee problem. What're ye all doin' 'ere?"

"We've a few questions to ask," said Luna, greeting auntie Grape Shot with a friendly nod. "First off: who happens to be in charge of Tall Tale?"

"Auntie usually handles the work," said Air Hoof. "Her husband, Grape Vine, is tending to the dishes in the back right now."

"Aye," said auntie Grape Shot. "I'll give ye anything, dear princess. Among us is bookkeeping, we value that! We've all our organizin' about us." She eyed the rest of the ponies intently. "And what by Celestia's sun do ye lasses want to drink?"

"I'll have a mug of cider," said Rainbow Dash, and then nudging to Applejack added: "Bet you were thinking the same, huh?"

"Yeah, ya got me," replied Applejack, rolling her eyes. "Cider please, if it's available."

"Nothing for me," said Rarity; but with neediness asked: "But please do inform me of a spa that is currently in working condition here."

"Right y'are! Ah'll get me husband in a scurry for that, dear," said auntie Grape Shot. "We're tidy full of towels, too."

"Um, I'll just have a muffin," said Pinkie Pie, indifferent to herself, but the idea came back, and she added excitedly: "Or maybe two. Or three! Or ten! What? I'm hungry!"

Auntie Grape Shot snapped a glance at Fluttershy, suddenly too, causing the yellow mare to nearly stumble back. "Oh, I'm good," she said politely, regaining her balance.

"I'm good, too," said Spike, looking nervously at Luna.

"Anyway," Luna pressed, "I would like to ask my questions, auntie Grape Shot, Air hoof."

"Of course now," said Air Hoof, bowing his head first.

"Did you or did you not receive the letter sent to you by dragon-fire mail?" asked Luna.

"Letter?" repeated Air Hoof, perplexed.

"You know, the one warning everypony about the return of King Sombra," said Rainbow Dash with a hoof gesture. "You must know about that already. Practically every city and town's been told."

"Hmm," contemplated Air Hoof uneasily, biting his lip. "Any mail we might get from royal officials would come in Grape Vine's box. He must have gotten it. Remain there; I'll go ask him."

"Or how about I find him," said Luna. She stepped away from her stool and circled round the counter. "This is important, and we haven't much time to waste. King Sombra's magic is spreading across Equestria, and you all need to leave. It is for your own safety."

"No need to rein outta yer cupboard just yet," put in auntie Grape Shot. "Just came to me! Me husband went out, he were tendin' to the dishes an hour round ago, 'fore anything else. Stay put, I'll be off now to get 'im for ye."

Luna did not consider it terribly necessary to intervene here, only at the start at first, and simply sighed and went back to her seat. "Fine," she said. "Be quick. We will stay for ten more minutes, at most, then we must be off. Venture to say the walk back to the train might even place us a bit behind schedule."

"I better go, too," said Air Hoof, with a pleasant air. "Got things to work on now. None much of note here for me. I hope you find what you're looking for, you all." He took off, slowly at first, looked from side to side, and ran through the main door.

All the while Serath and Twilight were waiting together, observing the scene with intention. Twilight was spying out for anything out of place, much like Luna, but Serath kept his arms crossed, only now noticing that every while or so at least two ponies would exit out the inn.

Fifteen minutes crawled by; Serath was tapping his boot to the wooden floor, the ponies were still waiting on their orders, as well as for the mare's husband. At last Luna ejected from her stool, her hooves stomping heavily on the floor.

"Enough waiting," she said with indignation. "Twilight, we are to find out where this Grape Vine is. It is improper to keep royalty waiting."

"A bit more finesse, I implore you," said Serath, equally ready to look round the room. "Something indeed is stirring here. Look: all the ponies are gone, we are the only ones left."

"What's that 'sposed to mean?" said Applejack, leaving her seat, as well as the others.

"I do not know," said Serath. He wandered over to the front door, about to push it open, if only for a peek outside, but he found himself unable to. The door was locked from the outside.

"What the..." was all Twilight got out. She trotted over to the door and, with marked struggle, attempted to push it open with magic. "Oof, the door isn't giving up easily. Who did this?"

There was immediate panic. All the ponies, Spike included, rushed together, all whispering about their current predicament.

"Hey, auntie Grape Shot! Air Hoof!" cried Pinkie to the emptiness of the room.

"Quiet, Pinkie!" said Rainbow Dash.

"I believe I have the key," said Luna at last; from the unexpected glow of her horn she scorched the door with a great force, spreading it outwards into smoking splinters. Daylight broke through. All that had been keeping the room from growing dark previously were the several placed lanterns.

"No one's here," commented Spike with extensive worriment. He began gnawing at his claws.

"The ponies all left through this door," said Serath, examining the town all round him. "This is simply not an accident, I am afraid." His face turned pale. "Dear oh dear, how useful it would be to be owner of a magical mark like Corvo's."

"They're playing tricks on us," said Luna defiantly. "I'll give it a bit more time; we better start searching; if not, we have to leave. It'd be terribly irresponsible to miss our get-together with my sister and the others."

"The houses are, in all likelihood, empty," said Serath, pointing to a select few. "See for yourselves. All dark inside, nothing moving, most are merely one-storied."

"How about we check that mare's husband's house," suggested Fluttershy. "Maybe he has something we could find out about."

"I'll go checking. The rest need not come," said Luna, going off at once.

"I will," said Serath hurriedly, jogging to her side. "Perhaps I will spot some oddity there, if not for anything that you miss."

"Fine," said Luna. "Come on."

Twilight and her friends decided to put their usefulness at the forefront and search nearby houses, through the windows, into the keyholes, behind where some kept garden fountains, and so on. This was done superficially, however, as none wished to fully impede on property not theirs. Even then, a pressure to leave hung in the air.

Grape Vine's house was two-storied, a nice little setting, with a small garden adorning its port side, and close to the edge of town. Its walls were made of logs, some appearing to be older than others, just like an old-fashioned cottage, yet more modernized. They knocked at first, naturally, but the front door creaked open at this. Not a single living soul could be found.

Inside only the most necessary items were either stashed or propped up. The house looked to be bigger from the outside; inside the logs bent forward towards the others, and plain furniture avoided the walls, haphazardly spread out; a low ceiling accompanied by a spinning fan lessened the available space even more.

"Look at these candles," said Serath, coming close to one of the shelves. "No dust marks. They were recently moved."

"So?" said Luna.

"Nothing of interest yet, just commenting."

He made his way to the living room and bent down for a closer inspection at the carpet. "Dirt tracks here."

"Where?" Luna came up shortly. "All I noticed was a smashed pot in the next room. Looks as if it has been there for some time. And what of these tracks?"

"Previously outdoors, he was," said Serath, rising up and following the trail. "That elderly pony might have been mistaken concerning her husband's whereabouts."

"Or she intended to deceive us."

"Look at these hoof-prints closely. He was running, possible chasing something. See there, couch is pushed off where it ought to be. Bits of bark at the wall there, where the tracks end. Seems as if a pony rubbed against the wall."

"Let me use a scanning spell," said Luna. A wall of light shone out of the tip of her horn, encompassing her entire field of view; it started at the ceiling, and gradually washed down half the living room. The spell died out, and Luna stepped back.

"I also noticed that the prints get lighter," said Serath, "much like how they were in haste at first, then trotted carefully."

"Serath, wait," said Luna. "There's something here."

He looked at the wall with interest, waiting patiently to see what Luna would do.

She tapped the wall, and a hollow noise reverberated in response.

"Hmm, some odd one definitely went through there," said Serath.

"Luna! Serath!" Twilight called back from behind them. Both turned to look back, and saw the other ponies at the door's entrance. "We didn't find anything, so we agreed to come to you. Hope we're not interrupting anything."

"But we are about to interrupt their little hideout," said Luna with determination. Once again she concentrated her horn, a wave of dark-blue light grappled the hollowed area of the wooden wall, and quickly the entire section evaporated into smoke. A hidden entrance, leading off underground, was roughly outlined like some sort of cave.

"Whoa, jackpot!" said Rainbow Dash in victory. The ponies hurriedly made their way to Serath and Luna, some accidentally bumping into the furniture, either stools or shelves or lamps, and some even observed the house with caution.

"What do you think is down there?" asked Spike, peering into the dark path.

"We better find out before anything else drags our attention elsewhere," said Twilight. "Follow me."

The fellowship wandered down the path, Twilight at the front with her horn aglow, Serath and Spike in the middle, and Luna close behind, her horn even brighter.

This stairway, creaky as it turned out, was relatively safe, and short, too. They only gaited straight down at a steep angle, and for ten seconds at most. At last the steps ended on solid ground, a hallway a bit off now, connecting to a postern door with a loose, rusting gate.

They made it through and found themselves in a room of moderate size, made of stone, holding up at least half a dozen dim torches. A notable number of trap doors were outlined in either the ground or up against the north wall, like a hidden morgue. Luna began to sweat, keeping her gaze up more often than the rest, not only for her responsibility to these ponies—and Serath, even—but the sight of a dark, stone room brought back unpleasant memories.

"Found a chest here," said Spike with some accomplishment. "Hmm, weird, it's locked tight, but it's got this note on top."

"Give it to me," said Luna, taking hold of this note and surveying it quickly. "What is this? A number combination?"

"Must be for the lock," said Serath.

Luna squinted her eyes through the shadows, seeing indeed a metal lock, round with what looked like hundreds of small numbers etched in its frame, clinging shut to this wooden chest.

"I recognize this metal," she remarked, but with reluctant contempt. "Dimeritium—special kind of alloy which absorbs magic, far more than any invention we've created." She took a second to consider this finding. "But this doesn't make any sense. Dimeritium is extraordinarily rare, and costs a fortune. There is zero plausibility to these simple townsponies getting hold of even a single gram."

"Unless somepony were to provide a sample," put in Twilight, perturbed.

"A rather weighty sample then," said Serath. "But I really must know: what inside could be so important to call for dimer... dinum... er, dimeritium!"

"Yeah, I'm curious as well," said Twilight with a hoof beneath her chin. "First the ponies vanish, then a secret passage, now this. If for nothing else we could at least see what's inside."

But this thought process took a turn to be cut short. A rumble suddenly shook the ground with unexpected force. From beyond the entrance they had entered flashes of electric crackling resounded heavily, and an unforeseen noise of rushing wind came afterwards.

"What in Equestria was that!" squeaked Rarity, much to her added dismay.

"Magic trap I set," replied Luna, but with that expression of relief one holds as if they caught a live prey. "When I performed that scanning spell I left behind a welcoming gift for our hosts. It was meant to stun, two or three ponies at the most."

"Um, everypony," said Spike with uncertainty, "is it just me or do the numbers on this lock look weird."

Twilight got a closer inspection, and indeed he had a point: instead of numbers they were odd signs and scratches, beyond any sort of recognition, even in Luna's case. To supply the confusion was that each sign connected to its neighbors in different ways, with no discernible pattern.

Serath bent down and looked hard at this lock, lifting it up; it was unbelievably heavy.

"Hmm," he went on to himself, "what did you find scribbled on that paper, Spike?"

Spike turned round quickly, thrown off at the mention of his name in such a salient manner, and hurried off to Serath's service. "Oh, um, three-two-seven."

"Er, getting light-headed," breathed Twilight in irritation. "Dimeritium lock must be stealing our magic already."

Hoof-steps were beginning to stomp in closer. The ponies remained switching their attention back and forth between Serath and the entrance, unsure of whether to stay put or run out.

"G-guys, I think t-they're coming!" said Spike through chattering teeth.

"Enough of this nonsense," declared Luna, nearing her Royal Canterlot Voice. She stood there, at the ready, imminently awaiting these ponies to know just what was going on.

And out the entrance came out three ponies: Air Hoof and two other ponies they've never met before, though judging by their cutie marks one was presumably Grape Vine. However, the atmosphere these villagers carried, once in a welcoming state, was now unrecognizable. Their eyes dim and sharp in concentration, eyebrows creased, jaws shut tight. Most unexpected were their coat colours, which had, along the way, darkened or turned pale.

"Princess Luna," greeted the pony assumed to be Grape Vine, and after came a loud, horrible gulp. "What ever are you doing to invade our privacy?"

"You are the one to stand on the podium," reproached Luna in threatening tones. "Not only did you townsponies abandon us at the inn, it looks as if everypony vanished. I guess not anymore."

"What are you doing there?" asked Air Hoof in a shrill voice, looking to Spike and Serath. Spike froze with his shoulders held high, to the discretion of himself, and slowly nudged away from the chest.

"I still know very little about Equestria, including this town," said Serath, but he did not look away, and spoke with his back to the ponies. "But I must add, for our own sake: you were to get a letter from Princess Celestia ordering you lot to leave Equestria, this goes for everyone, I believe. We are your 'guests' of a sort for you never responded. Furthermore, the Crystal Heart—we are searching for it. It is imperative!"

"Ah, 'old on there!" said Grape Vine, because it did turn out to be him. "You must've met mah wife, Grape Shot."

"Yeah, we did!" shot back Rainbow Dash, flying next to Luna. "She was a creep anyway."

"Now, now, missy," pronounced Grape Vine, and the way he moved, as though possessed, gloomily overlapped with an air of contempt. "Y'all told us o' King Sombra, huh? He ain't do nothin' wrong, hear now? Ain't no need t' give us a whirlin'!"

"Nothing wrong?" said Twilight, on the point of extreme skepticism, now starting to understand these folk, mush to her disdain. "We told you King Sombra returned. He's out there, now, do you understand?—wreaking havoc on all of Equestria!"

"You've heard uncle Grape Vine," said Air Hoof, almost pleadingly even. "King Sombra is in no way the bad guy, nor shape or form, you get me?"

"I beg to differ," the way in which Luna said this revealed her limitation for these ponies, that is to say, her temperament was on the rise. "You defend King Sombra's name? Fine. We here were under the obligation to find out why none of you have confirmed the threat, and I got my answer. Come now, ponies, Spike, Serath. We're leaving."

"Wait a minute!" blurted out Twilight upon a critical realization. Luna glanced back to her, head titled in confusion. All her friends waited for what she had to say as well. But she found this difficult to put out there, and with a bitten lower lip scanned round the room, still contemplating on how to word this in particular.

"That magic trap Princess Luna set," she began at last, "we heard it detonate. Must have stunned at least one of you. Yet when you got here none of you asked what that was about, why there was a magical bomb waiting for you to step on it. I'm willing to bet there's some temporarily paralyzed bloke just sitting up there. So answer me this: why don't you seem the least bit concerned here?"

The three ponies, with their sodden eyes and poker faces, hid their true feelings under the superficiality of the corner's shadow. They stood there, in utter frenzy, yet did nothing about it, and merely glared at Serath. And Serath himself kept twisting the lock back and forth, deep in thought.

"They expected us to fight back," said Serath quietly, almost sadly. "They knew we were investigating their silence concerning King Sombra. And now they, out of nowhere, admire him?"

All the while most of the ponies were simply terrified. Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie embraced in a hug together, that sort of comical hug friends commit to in unfortunate circumstances; Rarity remained wildly uncomfortable, wishing nothing more than to be sat at home, sewing away her machine. Fluttershy was accompanied by Spike now, perhaps now bitterly regretting their interference in the matter.

Rainbow Dash landed on the ground, with much reluctance, and backed away to Applejack's side; these two looked at each other with uncertain communication. Twilight, out of panic, lit her horn with incredible effort, subtly at first, but once the lavender glow made its notice, she dedicated to the act and cast an even greater glow.

"This means King Sombra was here," said Luna, igniting her own horn as well, but she as well noticed her magic seeping away. "This was his doing, wasn't it? It was. Fine, we are to leave at once. Let yourselves become consumed in his black magic, we are wasting our time here."

"Ah, I believe I understand," announced Serath, nearly putting the tension on pause. An audible cling snapped with force, he raised his arm, pushed the lock back, and it fell into the ground, slightly sinking into it, too.

"No need for commotion," said the third pony abruptly, holding a hoof up. "This must be a minor misunderstanding. We'll let you leave. No violence is necessary."

Serath flipped open the chest, stared absentmindedly into its case, licking his lips, out of habit, from a complete wave of contrasting thoughts; at first he went on to pick up what was inside, but hesitated with unexpected gravity; now, at last, looking back upon the room, said: "Does the Crystal Heart look like a... crystallized sculpture of a heart?"

Luna gasped, nearly beside herself, and before she could give in an answer, the three ponies, in a mad state of irritation, wandered over to them, crossing the space between them slowly at first, but soon broke out into jogs. All the others were similarly affected.

"Serath, grab it, now!" cried Luna, using all of her strength to channel her magic about the room. So fierce was this command that even Twilight's horn gave under the shock, both of discovering the Crystal Heart and Luna's animated management. This beginning gave promise to a terrible start of action.

Serath, as discouraged as he was, forced himself to grab onto the Crystal Heart, holding it to his chest as though his life depended on it.

Luna momentarily weighed her anchors, huffed in vague defeat, and produced a blast of visible magic. To everypony else it were merely a bright light, a wall of matte white, which took them over, transported with alarm. In the next instance, while still in a state of worry, they all felt the sunlight shine upon their faces, and the wind followed shortly.

"W-what happened!" cried Fluttershy in a high voice.

It took a few seconds to recollect her thoughts, but Twilight swung round, examining the village, and finally set her sights on the sizable house they had trespassed mere moments ago. It seemed to her something extraordinary, some catastrophe had occurred, and she was partly to blame, for letting her magic down. But to the horror of all, the house gave way under its tall planks; the structure wobbled at first, its windows shattered, heaved back and forth like caught in a small tornado, and at last its walls splintered and spewed out; a heavy smash broke through, and the house tumbled down, directly into the ground, and a wave of debris spread explosively.

"Where is Princess Luna?" murmured Serath, still recovering from the effects of teleportation, of which he was evidently unused to. His arms still kept hold of the Crystal Heart. For its size he found it to be surprisingly light.

"She's gone!" cried Spike in alarmed perplexity, madly pointing a finger at the remains of Grape Vine's house. "Wait, no..." he grew cold, and his lips twitched with fright. "I-I think... I think she left us... I think she left us and stayed under there!"

Yet again surprise caught their breath: random clatters advanced all round them; from behind certain houses, or even within them, came out dozens of the supposed villagers, all with their glares set on the Crystal Heart. Serath realized such mad attention and clutched it even harder than before.

At the end of this Twilight took the bitter pill and ignited her horn, much brighter than she expected, after being suppressed for so long. She did not want to come to terms with this, but the Crystal Heart, as Princess Celestia put it, was far too important. She would be willing to sacrifice herself with the least bit of hesitation for it, but her friends? She couldn't possibly abandon Luna, and the villagers, now overwrought with anger and madness, all sprinted in their direction. The pegasi flew, and the unicorns held knives or pitchforks in their magic grasps.

* * *

Corvo found himself once more in Canterlot castle's foyer, right in front of the main entrance. But this image lent itself to an appearance utterly unnatural: there looked to be brush strokes in every single wall, corner, and object, the grey air filtered all he viewed. His heart, before pounding with intensity, now calmed along with his breathing. He was one detached, barely at the reach to comprehend his surroundings, as though his brain did not allow it. It is that sense of illogical behaviour you experience in a dream, only to realize you were experiencing it after you woke up.

"Any memories resurfacing?" asked Sombra, his eyes fixed with wary sentiment.

Corvo turned upon Sombra, at first to ask questions, but stayed silent.

"Come now, surely you haven't forgotten already?" said Sombra again, though unexpectedly anxious. In fact, he even seemed irritated, shaking his head with apparent shudders and grave annoyance. "Tell me, please do! Unnecessary meetings matter!"

Corvo could not restrain himself, and a cold laugh escaped him; he brought a palm over his face and, at last, sighed, juxtaposed with his current state. "I have come to notice," he replied. "I went on to possess your body, and you... I guess, you attempted to enter my mind. Now, here I stand, halfway into your head, and there you are, in mine. Your magic is clearly more potent than that of my own. A shame indeed."

"Listen closely!" cried Sombra in a shrill voice, continuously switching between a smile and a pained frown. "Back in Canterlot, you, along with the two princesses, were under the influence of my illusion. Easy trick—I set it at the library's doorway, specialized for you all, when you entered, that is—ha, ha! How about we play a game? A brief game! I tell you my greatest fear, and you tell me yours."

"Are we to act in each other's good will?" asked Corvo, crossing his arms.

"No," said Sombra dryly. "But I'm most interested in fear. You know they say fear of the unknown is the strongest type of fear? That applies everywhere. A pony might be scared of a spider, and claim that that isn't fear of the unknown, because they very clearly know it's a spider; but they don't know what the spider'll do to them. Maybe it's a harmless little thing, and maybe it's waiting to inject poison on an unlucky victim."

"I sense that I will be mentioned," said Corvo. "Go on."

"In a minute. You know I was imprisoned in a mountain of ice, after Princess Twilight and her entourage discovered the Crystal Empire. I only ever wanted to escape. Of course I planned to keep the ponies out, going as far as to set a magic trap at the top of the tower, where they found the Crystal Heart. But that wasn't enough. A month or so before then I conducted that magic mirror, since I'm fairly well-versed in the Outsider's whereabouts. This was after your initial visit in Equestria. You failed, of course, so I wished to attract you back for a second time. That involved some organizing of certain ponies I captured under my control, and books, too. I wanted to ensure a future war. But I think you figured most of this out by now. Princess Celestia is only a part of it."

"This lecture is most superfluous. I read quite a lot about you during my second visit."

"It was probably all sheer philosophy and speculation."

"I would be better off skipping this chatter and weaving to it."

"Ah, yes... I saw your fear, Corvo, back in Canterlot," continued Sombra thoughtfully, ignoring the regret which came from his voice. Even Corvo lowered his shoulders, and he stared hard at Sombra. "I saw Dunwall, a better version of Dunwall, your city. Economy was booming, nearly no crime, decent weather, a happy empress, better technological advancements in medicine, and you were missing from the picture. What, did reality forget to paint you in?"

Corvo still did not blame himself for what he heard, and listened to Sombra's words of mockery with only half interest. He grew restless, impatient to an extraordinary degree, even blatantly selfish; yes, he was just that in Sombra's eyes: shamefacedly selfish. It was clear he had begun to consider the whole ordeal a nuisance. A divided sway ensued upon both candidates.

Upon noticing his unwilling expression Sombra burst into a violent, completely insane fit of laughter, stomping his hooves, again and again till cracks appeared on the floor. "You thought about it before! You had your suspicions, Corvo!"

In fact, as Corvo had felt back in Dunwall, he grew to hate the city, wishing to leave to a faraway place, but he could not figure out this out-of-place reasoning. It was all incredibly vain. His business as the Wandering Stranger came back to him at last, in the moment when his hand touched the metal mask he kept close: at first it was a sense of pride, to rid the world of evil; but as the days had motioned, the months gone by, everything was vain; every single day was vain; he once felt tormented at the sight of this mask and his sword, borderline on cognitive dissonance every single moment, the worst psychological suffering imaginable, and yet he could not for the life of him stop killing. He and the Outsider were the only ones who knew about this cover-up, and perhaps King Sombra.

"You believe torturing yourself like this is reasonable?" said Sombra again, false pity in his eyes. "What amount of blood do you carry on you, on your hands, I mean? The post-letter, the one with the riddle, the 'awaiting in a castle' version, the 'residence in Equestria' part, how did you possibly come to the conclusion that Princess Celestia was, in any notion, involved? She was the strongest memory you took back from your visit, where your bungled assassination attempt took place, and now look at you, running back for a return at the slightest calling, almost like you missed this place. Sitting still, by the fire, counting away the years, or weeks, I suppose, with only your mind ever concentrated on that cursed war. A pity it never happened. Ha! Humans are so very talented at rationalizing temptation, or proving to themselves the most irrational conviction to be true, for their own selfish benefit. That's what you did, I'm afraid, I think. So many options, and you come here. Why? Why is that?"

"Irrationality is the most difficult thing to resist," said Corvo with little momentum, gazing vaguely at Sombra. "We all know this, even if it is subconscious, by experience, and even you yourself must know this, Sombra."

"Mhm!" concluded Sombra with all his concern. "No direct words were yet spoken, but no need. I shall, as a promise, reveal my darkest thought, or fear." A long pause passed by before he continued, as though he were struggling from falling asleep. "I'm afraid of death. Common, isn't it? We all are."

"By primal instinct, yes."

"Tell me, Corvo: do you believe in an afterlife?"

"Not particularly."

"Me neither. But, you know, I want to believe in one. Even if it's an afterlife laden with despair and loneliness, anything is more comforting, more rewarding, than not existing."

"But you forget," interjected Corvo, "we all know what it is like to be absent from existence. I am thirty-one years old; thirty-two years ago I did not exist, and billions of years before I did not exist. You feel nothing."

Sombra gave a reluctant nod, in fact, nodding his head sagely at Corvo's every word; but alas, he mumbled something incomprehensible and went on: "Yes, you feel nothing, but now we live, now we bear the experience to which we may compare. Darkness isn't so bad until light sits next to it. What is the point, ambitions, I mean? We're all to die, even the supposed immortals like Princess Celestia and Princess Luna. I'm not immortal, makes it more troublesome. Does it bring you anything to think that, one day, you shall stop existing, and unable to feel sadness, or anger, or happiness, or regret about it?"

"Ha, ha, 'we are all going to die'—where have I not heard that one before? So why not believe in an afterlife? Go to a nearby monastery and convert."

"Doesn't work like that, I'm afraid, Corvo, it doesn't. Soon we will perish, unable to feel pride for any sort of legacy we leave behind, because we won't know of it. Our needs? Down the whirlpool. I fear death because I will not be able to fear it anymore, once I perish. You're here to stop me from spreading my smoke to your world. But why should it matter? It's too necessary to matter. Alright, I wish you luck on that."

He burst again into inappropriate laughter, and this so-called illusion came to its inevitable conclusion. Corvo found himself thrown back, now on the roof of Vanhoover's city hall; both their spells had met in equilibrium and ceased. He sprung to his feet, and saw Sombra standing before him, his horn venomous with magic. The fire was still spreading, and the wind settled.

"An awaiting in a castle!" grumbled Sombra in the highest degree of haste. "That still has not happened! Death is such a fascinating concept, so long as you keep your distance."

He ran for it, galloping at incredible speeds towards the edge of the roof. Corvo, still weak on his feet, shot two bolts; one missed, and the other merely scraped Sombra's mane. In a fit of anger he whipped his crossbow onto the ground, now realizing it was too late to take aim again, and broke into a sprint after the unicorn king.

Sombra laughed maniacally, and dark fumes encompassed his body. When he reached the edge of the roof, Corvo shot him with a powerful gust of wind; Sombra flung back, now only a pulp of smoke with pale eyes, and fell with great weight down the building. When Corvo went on to look downwards he saw only the streets touched by flames, ponies scurrying frantically, and the double door entrance, no longer budging, now engulfed in fire.

* * *

Celestia and Discord had, after what felt like an eternity, cleared the area, or rather the district, from danger. She landed on her hooves, evidently exhausted; even Discord looked like he consumed much energy in a short amount of time. This was close to an hour after Corvo's struggle with Sombra. The entire time Celestia had carried this searching expression, ever weary and anticipating Corvo's return.

At last Corvo turned round a building and met them, utterly out of breath, leaning on a carriage for support. To his pleasant understanding the flames had indeed been put out, but the smoke round city hall went on alive, but at least it finally reached a limit and stopped growing. This section of the city was barren, with a horrible smell; the other guards, on Celestia's orders, galloped to put out the rest of the fire.

"Where were you?" called Celestia, folding back her wings.

"Yes, I would very much love to be informed," said Discord in annoyance.

"Sombra... Sombra..." he breathed in fragments, yet to recollect his breath. "He escaped, unfortunately... unfortunately."

"Well, that is a shame," said Discord with a shrug.

Celestia held back her need to vent, upon the realization that their rush here was all for nothing, or so she assumed. She heaved an unsteady sigh and demanded: "What happened here?"

"I cannot be too certain just yet," said Corvo. "Told me he swayed his provokers, convinced them to do his bidding. Set all ablaze."

"What happened to the mayor?" asked Celestia immediately.

Corvo, without a second thought, said: "Burned in the fire. I was too late."

Celestia looked down with sorrowful self-reflection, and groaned in an undertone. "I see," she said.

"Hello!" cried Discord for attention, waving his arms up. "Terribly sorry to say this, but we really must get going. The others should be expecting us, and I have no intention to keep myself in this dump. The guards have it figured out, I'm sure."

"Discord is right," said Corvo. He made his way past Celestia, down the road. "We have to leave. The others are starting to worry me, all things considering. The locomotive is not too far away. We will get on board, stack the coal, and be off."

"I agree," said Celestia, but with an shadow of reluctance. "We need to get back, to the Unicorn Range. It took us a while now, and I hope we get there before they do."

The three of them set off at once. Strange, it was, running back through the main road. It was quiet, completely lifeless, with not much distinguishing it from a a long-forgotten road one finds in a forest. The city was now behind them, left only with dubious trust in the city guards. Celestia found it to be tremendously difficult to leave it all there, without being absolutely sure everypony was safe. Still, it fell upon her the notion of haste, that they all were to leave immediately.

At last they arrived at the train, and much to their surprise, the conductor was nowhere to be found.

"Where did he go?" said Celestia, searching the front room with keen eyes. Indeed, the train was at last empty. "He was here piling the engine not too long ago." A greater air of panic soon followed, only heightened as she surveyed the surrounding area, then back to the city. "This can't be good."

Discord glanced at her alarm-driven countenance, stroking with white beard in thought. "Who knows. Maybe he fled in fear. Sounds like something ponies would do."

Odd, thought Corvo. I would come to guess the guards escorted him out, but he was here under official orders by a princess. Cowardice, perhaps? Possible. I will think on it some other time.

Despite this dreadful alarm, Celestia shook it off, far too concerned with her sister, Twilight, and her friends. She declared at once to both Discord and Corvo: "Nevermind it! We'll come back next time, if there even is a next time. Discord, you start the engine; use your magic if it'll help."

"Of course it will," scoffed Discord with nonchalant confidence. He teleported to the conductor's cart, snapped his claws, and the engine roared with a blue flame. The locomotive in general shook with a magical start, and then it began to screech and move.

Celestia finally felt the weight off her shoulders when she sank into the large seat, casting a final gaze out the window—as well as the city, which blurred by quickly as the train blasted into a quick acceleration—and let loose a genuine sigh of weariness. In the meantime Discord sat in the room, fidgeting with a Rubik's cube, but never letting the engine put itself out. Eventually they were off on the lone track again.

Corvo sat across from Celestia, crossing his legs and resting an elbow on the window sill, which supported his cheek. The very last thing he wished to discuss was his encounter with Sombra, and yet he knew Celestia would soon come to ask. There was no point in avoiding it.

"Hold up there," he said. "Better to hang the towel once this is all over."

"I'm fine," said Celestia. "Nothing better than to live under this constant threat."

"Yes, well, perhaps my falling out with Sombra was not for nothing."

Celestia's ears perked, and she now stared intently at him and with the highest interest.

He continued: "He admitted to having had started the war—the lead to a war, that is. Tricked even the Outsider. Impressive, to put it lightly."

"That doesn't matter anymore. We know the mirror connects your world to mine—"

"Even if it no longer works, and to add, it rests in Canterlot, which is engulfed in Sombra's magic. Everyone there is probably dead by now." But even so, what his smoke does we have guessed on empirical evidence.

"I know," said Celestia, conflicted. "We managed to evacuate Ponyville, and got the message safely about the surrounding communities. And for all that, Equestria could become a new wasteland by next week. It takes a while to evacuate an entire country."

"But this pernicious smoke spreads indefinitely," remarked Corvo. "Running away for that long is impractical."

"I know that. But now our first priority is to find the others. We'll be arriving near the Unicorn Range in a little over half an hour, I would say. We have time to sit and recount what we know. Think up of a couple of strategies even."

Corvo shifted uneasily in his seat, upon his capacity to deduce such truths he went over several times in his head: contemplating on what Sombra told him. Not those philosophical bouts of hogwash regarding an afterlife, that did not concern him; he clung to every word his memory would allow, and considered Celestia's proposition.

"Nothing much of an absorption Sombra told me," he said, biting his nail, "except for a thing or two, here or there. That lunatic mentioned you."

"Oh?"

"He insisted you were a part of his plan."

Celestia gave this statement some dubious contemplation and remained unsatisfied. "What do you mean to say: I'm part of his plan?"

"Not those words exactly," said Corvo more quickly. "He said that you are only a part of it."

"And what do you get by 'it'?"

"Interestingly enough, just before he mentioned you alone in a single sentence he recounted the troubles he had to toil through, almost as if he were venting to me: on and on about the traps he devised in the Crystal castle, his recovery after being defeated for a second time, and so forth. And then you."

"Okay. So what?"

Corvo sighed and gestured with his hand, clearly on the verge of explaining something note-worthy, yet not quite there. "So," he went on peculiarly, "there stands the possibility in which he referred to you as a problem, an obstacle sabotaging his plans. It makes perfect sense, too. You were there to banish him a millennium ago, you were indirectly responsible for his defeat a few years back, and now you do everything in your power to put a stop to him once more. I think I am in the right here."

"Suppose that's true," said Celestia, purposefully striving to contradict him, "it just means he hates me: I'm his sworn enemy. It's nothing new under the sun; everyone knows that."

"But why not mention Princess Luna?"

The expected response Celestia accustomed herself to now got stuck in her throat; she stared at him fixedly, with much skeptical thought, and shook her head, as though disappointment was all she could register. "I see where you're getting to."

Corvo did not take note of this before, but his arm, slumping along the window sill, straightened right away, and he lifted up his head. "I am not too sure you do."

"You think my sister is in cahoots with King Sombra. Is that it?"

Corvo went back and forth on such an inquiry, carefully balancing his options, but decided to play it safe. "I have an idea, perhaps, perhaps not. It is only a hypothesis, an educated guess, if you will."

"Don't be ridiculous, Corvo. Just because you so happened to have picked upon a single comment King Sombra made about me and interpreted it in your own light hardly deserves one's full attention."

"So that is it? Not even worth the smallest fraction of plausibility?" The inclination upon his attitude to Celestia's dismissal, brazenly set as a marked exasperation, remained yet hidden beneath his own mind, for even he was still unconvinced. However, he would never assume, and so kept whatever he could get in his head to think it over for later. The most critical specificities could be found under the most unimpressive details, he believed.

Celestia really made no reply worth mentioning.

"Fine, have it your way," he said again, far too respectfully to be sincere. "It was a mistake on my part to tell you. Obviously your bias for Luna does not allow me much room for a proper discussion. I will have to tell Serath about it, or maybe even Discord. Come now, do you still not trust me?"

Celestia gazed at him like he were an unremarkable piece of furniture, and rolled her eyes with a near-noticeable sarcastic intention.

"No," she said plainly.

"Alright then, I predicted you would say that."

"I think a foal could've predicted that."

Corvo didn't care to reply, and after another minute, blew air from his mouth in boredom, fidgeting with his coat button as he did so. He never thought this would proceed to be so boring so quickly. He cast a rapid glance out the window; they were still a way's off, he assumed, and so decided to keep the conversation floating.

"There stands a whole plethora of things to talk about," he said, "and we are not talking about it. How about a game of chess? Least we have that in common."

"But there are no pieces, nor a board," she countered, lowering an eyebrow.

"Mental chess, or more formally known as blindfold chess," he concluded defiantly. "If you can keep up, that is. Merely maintain a model of an eight-by-eight board, remember each and every piece, and we move based on notation."

"Okay, sounds different. You start as white."

"Finally, a bit of enjoyment," remarked Corvo as he, once more, sat up, and even leaned forward a bit, considering with utter examination Celestia's countenance. "Pawn, B-four."

Celestia smirked faintly, only now letting herself fall into mental relaxation, if only for a moment. She went on to say: "Knight, A-six."

"Better. Pawn, B-five."

* * *

Twilight furiously conjured up a magical force field, first shooting a ray of magic upwards, which sparkled intensely and then spread out like a dome, enclosing everyone in it, leaving off the crazed villages to pile up round the edges like a colony of fire ants. The shield glimmered once, darkened, and the noise of glittering ceased.

"Twilight, hun, this ain't what Ah expected!" remarked Applejack in alarm.

"Likewise," said Serath, rightfully stunned at first.

"While alternate circumstances would spare us far greater worry, at least our dear Serath got hold of the Crystal Heart," put in Rarity, keeping her eyes away from the villagers, unsure of whether to be relieved or terrified. "At least."

"Yeah, great!" grumbled Twilight with a self-evident struggle to keep the shield up; the ponies on the outside were pounding it mad with either basic weapons, their own magic, or bare hooves. "Now we've gotta get out of here! But what's worse is Princess Luna: just what in the world happened to her?"

"I think she didn't have enough magic to get herself out," said Spike, but upon dwelling on this thought, he hung his head and kicked the dirt. It soon came to him a most pessimistic thought. "Can't believe Princess Luna would do that for us. Now... now we have this crazy place to deal with!"

"Can't Twilight just teleport us all outta here?" suggested Pinkie hurriedly.

"Believe me, everypony, if I could teleport us to safety I would!" Twilight struggled to say, as though she were the one receiving all the hits and stabs her shield took, which soon began to wobble and shake.

"Somepony, please get us out of here!" cried Fluttershy, weeping with her face beneath her arms.

Serath took his time to survey the Crystal Heart, observing his brazen reflection upon its frictionless surface; the corners, glossy and seemingly indestructible, split said reflection into a web of incredibly odd angles. He turned it over, and it shone a pale blue with this movement. At last he knocked on it, and a small vibration resounded in response. It was the most magical thing he had set his eyes on thus far.

"This must cost a fortune," he commented. "And yet it holds the power of love required to defeat King Sombra."

"Thanks, captain obvious," said Rainbow Dash sarcastically.

"Oh, forgive my distraction!" said Serath, with flustered signs on his face. "But I believe these ponies want nothing more than to remove the Crystal Heart from my grasp, well, from our recollection of the thing. Maybe if we leave it here, they will leave us be."

"What!" exclaimed Applejack. "Did a basket of eggs jus' fall on yer head? Our whole mission was to find that darn thing!"

"Yes, yes, I know that," said Serath, with transparent conviction, as though he were excusing himself. "But we need not leave it here forever, merely make these certifiable lot think we gave it up. It is for our very lives, supposedly."

"Really don't know how we'll pull that off," said Twilight through gritted teeth. The force shield, above her magical capabilities, was now flashing wildly, and growing thinner. "Don't think I can hold this much longer," she added as more of the outdoor ponies joined the fray.

But without warning the clouds grew dark, and the wind instantly picked up, and chilled the area to a horrible degree. It all went silent: the villagers, all in small groups, with mad expressions and apparent aggression, froze in all manner of positions; the sight round the force field was like a jumbled sculpture, with a sparkling blue tint wreathing on all sides. Twilight's magic died out, the shield evaporated before any of them could notice—it did so in a fleeting instance, expanding at first and then nothing but the sky. And once again the oddities spiked: the clouds returned to normal, the winds fell warm, and the surrounding villages tumbled upon one another, over the ground, and the magic residue expanded upwards, before that vanished as well.

In a flash Luna teleported before them, carrying myriad bruises and scratches, albeit minor ones, with a dirtied face, her mane utterly disheveled, but as of yet, according to what Serath observed, nothing too serious. She sighed with gravity and went to them.

"Are you all okay?" she asked wearily.

"Princess Luna!" they cheered with joy, all except for Serath, who stood there, stupefied by what he witnessed. He did, however, clutch at the Heart more firmly now.

"Thank the heavens!" he managed to get out. Now they circled up. "That was incredible!—er, if not a tad petrifying," he ended with a nervous laugh.

"Mind if I ask just what you did exactly, princess?" inquired Spike reluctantly. He poked one of the villagers, and when they twitched, he jumped back.

"They are all incapacitated for the next hour," replied Luna, gazing beyond the houses, trying to seek the road they came from. "We need to leave. Now."

"Wow!" said Rainbow Dash, dumbfounded as she flew upwards. "There're at least twenty—no, thirty villagers here!"

"Spare me the details, please," said Luna in a breath. "I am beyond exhausted, and I need to rest to recover my magic. The trek back to the station shall prove even more tiresome, but all complaints aside, we could have been far worse off."

It took them a bit to recover themselves, but worth the time it was, the company set off adamantly and with such a haste as to even forget about the couple dozen stunned ponies. But they simply could not catch a break, not for themselves or their friends. When they at last arrived at the first signpost by the fence, a herd of villages advanced in several rows, all with that air of authoritative insanity, which causes one to bear a singular goal, no matter the cost.

They were expecting these ponies—and Serath—to try to escape with the Crystal Heart. The other bunch Luna stunned gave the appearance of only a third of the town as a whole.

The ponies huddled up, some back-to-back; Luna gave it her all to light her horn, but only spew of sparks lazily shot out. Twilight managed to hit a few of the villagers with a stun spell—precisely like the one she used in Canterlot during the Changeling invasion—but these villagers, practically self-possessed, showed no concern for one another, and continued to surround them. To everypony's dismay Twilight fell to the ground in an extreme state of fatigue.

Rainbow Dash tackled a mare, but a great many hooves all grabbed at her immediately, and pulled her down. Applejack, much in line with her loyalty, tried to help, but the villagers took hold of her after she broke at least five teeth.

Luna cursed under her breath, regarding once more the plan they had set. But something else entirely, very much out of context with their current situation, gleamed in her eyes, a sort of cold gleam. But this was before the villagers all carried ropes and bags, and before they could resist any longer, the ponies were tied to several metal polls—dimeritium polls, Luna suspected—set into the dirt. Serath, much to his grief, showed absolutely no signs of resistance. He freely gave up the Heart and was taken away as well.

The work lasted five more minutes, that is, it would have taken less time if some had complied and didn't put up such a fight. Unfortunately magic was out of the question, and their wings were bound—for Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy as well—and now the friends were all tied up like trapped-in scapegoats, side by side; Luna was in the middle, and Serath next to her. But to their confusion, instead of taking the Crystal Heart away to somewhere distant and hard to discover, the artifact was placed directly in front of them, a few yards out of reach, measured with a five-ell pole.

* * *

"Ah, it is a check for me," pronounced Corvo assertively. "It also means I take your queen."

Celestia closed her eyes in a state of contemplation, with a specific kind of concentration; it was entirely clear to Corvo that she had not been focusing for the past while now, like she were multi-tasking on more detail-orientated topics. And when he noticed this it was but an advantage at first, yet now, testing the grounds, he had to bring it up:

"Come now, Celestia. I have already checked you twice, took your queen, both your rooks, one bishop, and reminded you eight times where your pieces were placed. I am not in half the trouble you dug up for yourself. I admit, it is difficult to keep track of everything the first few attempts. Is that it? We can stop and play later with a physical set. I value fairness, after all."

"It's not that," she sighed, and took rest against her seat. "Thought it might be fun at the start, but I just can't focus with all these hypothetical situations running through my head. Trouble keeping them out, nothing else. We should play later, yes." And my horn aches like no other!

"Yoo-hoo, Celestia dear!" interposed Discord. He came out from the conductor's room, scratching the back of his head. "We may have a teeny-tiny little problem on our hooves." He raised his arms. "Or paws, or claws... or hands."

Celestia shifted to the edge of her seat, tilting her head in exaggerated concern. "Say again?" she inquired heavily. "What difficulty can you be unable to fix. You need my help?"

"Oh, please," scoffed Discord with a long gesture. "If I needed your help we would all be dead by now."

"Then what is it?" said Corvo, rising from his seat.

"Well..." said Discord, long yet quietly, wandering about the aisle, peeking out every single window. "It's just that I've been to the Unicorn Range before, I know what it looks like, so when we get there, I know we'd be there."

"Discord," pushed Celestia, "what is the problem?"

Discord grinned the kind of grin which suggests all hope is lost; of course, blown out of proportion on his part, but nevertheless worrying. "It's just that we're in the Unicorn Range, passing by it right now," he got out at length, and his face turned sour. "Princess Luna, that Serath fellow, Twilight and her dear friends—turns out they missed the bus. Next stop, I guess."

"I knew this would happen!" said Celestia with a vague descent into anger, even surprised by her own tone. "My sister and her friends are in danger. I'm going."

"Calm down, Celestia," said Discord. "I know work has gotten a little overbooked for you in the past three days, which includes a large amount of stress, but it'd be better if I took to investigating."

"I am inclined to agree," added Corvo heartily. "You better go check Tall Tale, Discord."

"Not like this," she rebutted, sadly shaking her head to herself. "They need me."

"And you must take better care of yourself," replied Corvo at once, solemnly, and with obvious haste. "We cannot risk your safety. Rest easy."

Celestia moaned in defeat, unwilling to say it out loud but admitted to being unfit for the journey. While alicorns are extraordinarily powerful, their magical stamina does not make up for much talent. Like unicorns, they can tire themselves out rather easily, unlike Discord, who's near limitless supply of magic gave him an advantage.

"Alright—go," she sighed. "Just be quick. I'll be waiting here like a... like a sunken anchor."

"Me too," said Corvo unexpectedly.

"Huh?" Celestia looked upon him. "I hope you go with Discord. He can use your set of skills if the situation goes awry."

"What do I look to you?" said Corvo, frowning. "In the same way you feel I am also worn out. At best I can slow time, maybe thrown off a couple of burns, a gust of wind or three. After that, my two weapons. I am better off drying my boots for now. What makes me so special compared to Discord? He will have control of the situation."

"Corvo, that's..." began Celestia, softly, taken aback by what he said. "That's surprisingly humble of you to say."

"Did you not find me humble two years ago?"

"You were—with your memories stripped, and even then given a deceptive semblance."

"In case you two decide to keep chatting," said Discord, tapping his foot crossly, "I plan on going. Who knows what happened to them: perhaps some filthy monsters ambushed them, or they actually found the Crystal Heart?"

Corvo registered this possibility for a moment, raised a finger to speak, but stopped and paused again; soon after he jumped up, tiding his coat. "Brilliant point!" he proclaimed. "Crystal Heart might be there, and if I am not present, surely it is in the wrong hands. Teleport me with you."

"Nevermind on my humble comment," said Celestia with a contemptuous chuckle.

"Wait, I thought you were tired?" said Discord dubiously.

"Bah, that was all balderdash! Come, what Celestia just remarked is my cue to go."

Discord shrugged and snapped his paws. A white flash later transported the two at once to a field: a dry tundra it looked to be, though with a dark-green hedge along the outskirts of the hills. The area, rocky and pale, jagging off into outcrops every few hundred meters, went on for a way's up to a broad dale, where it met the trees and split off to a forest. Beyond that, alongside the hedge, in the distance, a bundle of what looked to be shanty houses, albeit with a neater overcoat, spread out until it stopped at a single acre.

"Tall Tale—is that it?" inquired Corvo, but exhaled heavily afterwards, realizing he was indeed worn out.

"Looks different last time I was here," said Discord, using his own fingers for binoculars. He was about to teleport them once more, but ceased abruptly, and took to humming in thought. He examined the area, then back to the village. "Can't see much there, but my magic doesn't feel as strong here. That's odd. Let me get us a closer look."

He snapped a paw, flashing them at the end of the dale, where the forest's entrance stood open; but when they reappeared he landed on his legs, in shocked but disdainful surprise, blinking his eyes at Corvo as though he could not believe his senses. "What's this? My magic is even weaker now? Hmm..."

"My magic remains at full capacity," remarked Corvo once he lit his Mark as a test, and could not sense any sort of weakening surge. "That is to say, 'full capacity' relative to the train ride. If only I came here rather than Vanhoover, but alas."

"Yes, yes, no need to brag!" said Discord with a roll of his eyes. "It feels strangely heavy when I float. Oh dear, will I actually have to walk!"

"I reckon this distance is nearly a kilometer," said Corvo as he began to walk ahead. "That is nothing at all. Come, we better find out what happened to our frie—er, your f—well, the ponies."

Halfway past the dale from their starting point, Discord only remarked: "Hmm, feels like dimeritium. Lots of it."

"Dimer... what?"

"Eh, nothing. On we go!"

* * *

"Don't make this difficult for yourselves," said Air Hoof. He bent down to be at eye level with Luna, staring at her like she were some new discovery. In fact, the villagers managed to entirely forget the physical presence of eight tied-up travelers; they now went on about their day, in the inn, casually talking to one another, working at certain stands, et cetera—most even wandered by the ponies. Disturbingly enough, the many ponies Luna stunned down got up when the magic wore off and walked back to their daily routines as if absolutely nothing had ever happened; some of the after-effects included headaches or cramps, and while many villagers displayed evident signs of immense pain, they really just ignored it. There only remained a select few to keep watch.

"Why are you working against King Sombra?" he asked for what felt like the tenth time.

"Release us at once!" reproached Luna in extreme contempt. "You are nothing but a fool to bind a princess and her friends here, and let King Sombra kill countless more ponies. You will pay for this!"

Air Hoof nodded, with great interest, like he were taking mental notes on a topic which fascinated him. Next he moved onto Serath: "I've never seen this thing before. You confuse me."

"Much the same to you, sir," said Serath with faint smile. "This is terribly inconvenient for us, but I see you are unwilling to let us go. To pass the time, may I introduce you to a game of mental chess, more formally recognized as blindfold chess?" he asked with stutters in between his pronunciations; this was, in any attempt, a way to stall for time.

I forgot to mention: these "select few" who kept watch were sharpening their blades, or testing blunt objects on the ground, scarily indicative that they had plans for our band of heroes. Fluttershy was in tears, along with Spike and Rarity; Applejack tapped her hooves on the ground, to pass the time, anxious beyond concern; Rainbow Dash was equally anxious. Pinkie Pie was nervous as well, perhaps more so than the rest. She absolutely did not want to die like this.

Air Hoof remained there, staring, then rose up and backed away until all the company stood in his peripherals.

"King Sombra warned us!" he declared. "He came to us, showed our good ponyfolk his true nature. You're all the bad ponies! And now we must make sure that this stays here—that this is the last time anypony lays hoof on the Crystal Heart again. Come now, my friends, ready the farming tools. Yes, those ones. Start from left to right, then bury the bodies."

A piercing scream of panic broke out from all the ponies, all struggling desperately to snap the binds, all except Luna, who was in a state of complete seriousness; a grey shadow cast upon her face, with such scorn, it even justified her exaggerated solemnity. And yet again there was the unusual gleam to her eyes.

Serath grew deathly pale, quite literally. His mouth quivered from his rapid breaths, and he too began to devise a way to subtly snap the ropes above him. But it was to no avail.

* * *

"Dear goodness! They've got our less-impressive team captured!" cried Discord, unable to keep his eyes off the scene. Indeed, both he and Corvo were behind a conveniently tall boulder, a mere twenty meters off from the east side of the fence, and maybe another sixty till the signpost.

"Fifty seven villagers," said Corvo.

"What?" Discord raised a dubious eyebrow.

"I count fifty seven villagers," repeated Corvo with an analytical face.

"Hold on, how could you possibly count the total number of those creeps from this angle!"

"I can see through walls, Discord, in the dark, too," replied Corvo without turning, though an odd smile flashed onto his lips. "I checked four separate times—there are indeed fifty seven villagers. I count fast."

Discord huffed in indifference and gazed back at the ponies bound, the alarm now returning to his senses. "Come on, we can't just wait here. We need—I don't know—a plan or something?"

"No time," said Corvo. He rose from his spot and checked his crossbow, testing the small levers, rotating its metal ring round the barrel, and stabilizing its razor-ended wings. I have sixteen bolts at the ready, plus two spare cartridges of twenty, total of fifty six. Hmm, wonder who shall be the lucky contestant.

"What do you mean, 'no time'?" reproached Discord with genuine worry. "I've been told you're great at planning!"

"Only plan when the odds are stacked against you, or they are even," said Corvo, adding a final click to his crossbow. "Majority of the villagers are unarmed, completely off-guard. Several are in pain, oddly enough. Injured, I would wager. Perhaps a fight broke out recently. In any case, they are clearly dangerous. I see no surprises."

"So what's your improvisation then?" said Discord with his arms crossed.

"Go in, close your eyes, chant your prayers, and hope you were right." He began to walk off, but halted momentarily to add: "That second part was for you, by the way. You might not wish to see this, but we really are running out of time. Efficiency can be found in the mud when you least expect it." And he was off, leaving Discord to watch worryingly.

And now Corvo was at the signpost, staring at it doubtfully. Aged, it was, must have been there for a number of years. He gazed ahead where the houses started to pile side-by-side. The villagers noticed him, and as he entered Tall Tale, one in particular approached.

"What might you be here for, stranger?" he inquired, struggling against his own insistence. He did, however, notice Corvo staring far back at the nine confined trespassers. "You look just like that one fellow. Such wonder!"

"I am here for them," said Corvo with hidden vigour. "Why are they tied up?"

"Oh no!" proclaimed the villager whom Corvo addressed. "Intruder! Intruder!" he cried at the top of his lungs, galloping down the path, right before he fell stiff from a honed bolt to the back of the head.

Corvo stretched his shoulders, now ready to take aim, and walked with strict speed along the road, right into the village. Several more townsponies took heed, and approached him. In a blitz of marksmanship he shot, one after the one, most in between their eyes, some at the necks, yet all collapsed in a single instance.

A wooden door to his right broke down, and another villager, with intense hostility, charged at him with relentless ferocity. And again he was killed by a single pull of the trigger. Exclamations began at once, absolutely everywhere discernible.

Whenever Corvo caught sight of a pony, a bolt connected the air between them, and said pony would fall. The rate at which he fired grew in frequency, gradually, until he was jogging uniformly, spinning every which way to put down another.

Two bolts launched: two ponies from within the inn slain. A third peered out the window, and was met with the same fate.

The massacre ensued without warning, with no pause in between the actions. The whole village began to charge. Corvo kept firing, and such was his quickness it might as well have been an automatic firearm he utilized; the ponies were dropping like stiff logs, in piles. At last he reloaded, accompanied by a bend of time, and resumed.

Eventually he approached the sight where Luna and the rest were kept. They all threw their attention to him, without understanding at first, and called to him for help. However, they very quickly went silent when Corvo flung Air Hoof back with yet another bolt.

But he didn't respond: Corvo swooped past them to the other ones, sending them crashing as well.

A small army charged. Corvo snapped his fingers, a cacophony of wind detonated and whipped at least half of the remaining villages with spine-shattering force in all directions, mostly through sturdy houses or along the trees, essentially dismantling the fray.

Corvo stood there, unmoving, in a mechanical mode of lining his aim with the head of a crazed townspony, firing a shot, and repeating, with blinding velocity.

The bound ponies themselves could not move away—even if they wanted to—and glared with vibrating eyes, muted by a psychological shock like no other. Corvo was just putting them down. All of them, incessantly, and without much struggle. For a second time we switched up a package of projectiles and resumed his assault, moving forth as he did so.

At last he missed, not entirely: the bolt struck one of the pony's legs, who fell in pain. Corvo sighed, swiveled his wrist, and shot a second to the pony's head.

Two to spare now, he thought, and as he did so kicked down a door.

Inside the villagers, now very clearly in fright, took cover behind the counter or tipped-over tables. One side of Corvo's mouth frowned, hinting at a sneer; he teleported to their locations, blasting more bolts to their faces. A final one within the house managed to escape through an open window. Corvo followed shortly, watched as the pony ran away, and proceeded to strike him down as well.

The remaining kills put up more of a struggle, for they desperately tried to escape. With expert precision he snapped the rest of his bolts, onto each and every one of them, and finally his crossbow clanged and steamed.

He dropped the firearm and took out his sword, its pale gleam making itself known. A unicorn mare revealed herself from hiding, stared hard at him, and picked up the closest thing she could find. Corvo heard this, spun round to witness a blazing spear coming his way. He slowed time, teleported, sectioned her head clean off—all, from the perspective of the ponies, in an unnoticeable juncture. A spray of blood painted the ground beneath her.

The last was a stallion earth pony. He, much like the rest, galloped mindlessly at Corvo, way out of his mind. But Corvo now stood entirely fatigued, pressing his back to a nearby wall, ready to pass out from sheer exhaustion any moment. He gazed at the approaching villager, lifting his sword's edge against his chest in a fighting stance.

The stallion jumped, Corvo rolled under, jabbing his sword through the poor fellow's heart, and the latter slid against the floor, motionless.

Corvo first took a minute to recollect himself, and then precariously wandered over to the rest bound to the metal poles, all of whom still could not shake off just what exactly had taken place. But Luna was the first to get her word out: "Y-you... you slaughtered them. Every single one!"

"Sorry about that," said Corvo, taking a second to swallow his breath, and expelled another one. "I realize my courteous aspirations still stand for improvement, but that does not matter. At all, in fact. Here, let me untie you all."

"Unbelievable!" proclaimed Serath with extreme resentment. "You killed all of them, spared not one. Even the ones who fought for their lives in fear—you k-killed them, Corvo."

"Spare me your lecture about morals," said Corvo, beginning to slice through the tough knots round the beams. "My record was high enough in Dunwall—you know this. These townsfolk were already in a state of delirium, Sombra must have done that to them. He was waiting, knew all concerning such a case in the end. And you, Serath—we are to talk, in private, once we board the train. Come now!" He finished up freeing the ponies.

Twilight looked upon the field of bodies, nearly expecting to vomit from the sight, her eyes simply unused to such atrocities. She looked back upon Corvo, almost with reluctance, her expression heavy with that of recent events.

"Was it all really necessary, all this?" she inquired solemnly.

"They were ready to stick pitchforks up your throats," said Corvo, storing away his sword. He took his time to consider the rest of the ponies, even his friend: some's heads were bowed, some still with darkened faces. A wave of contrived guilt crept up in the back of his head; and as such, he sighed indignantly and announced:

"I... I know what you are all thinking. I know this must be hard to see, it is tough to sit through. This is not the sort of ordeal I would label as ordinary. I truly am sorry. Did my best is all, so as to save as many of you as possible. It turned out successfully, but I insist that you turn it back and remember that Sombra is still out there. Save your tears for later; and if you wish to lecture me, at least wait until it is all over and done."

He noticed the Crystal Heart resting a distance away and whistled. "My, looks like we have found it. Certain it to be legitimate, not a cheap imitation?"

"Yes—we... ahem, we are," replied Rarity.

"Let's just get out of here," said Luna with resentment. The rest were inclined to agree.

"There you are!" cried Discord, running up the ones standing with haste. "I saw that, Corvo. All of it! You are..." he tapped a claw to his chin. "Well, how do I put it? Ferocious!"

"I needed the practice, is all."

"What did you feel?" asked Spike, looking from the ground to Corvo like he were struggling to decide on something. "I mean, what did you feel when you, um, you know, shot those ponies."

Corvo shrugged. "Recoil."

* * *

The walk back to the train went on with few words, but perhaps that was for the best, leading to even fewer distractions. The company was completely exhausted from this morning, with the exception of Discord. Once enough distance gathered between them and the downtrodden village, the dimeritium upshots wore off and their magic returned. Fortunately Discord managed to teleport them the rest of the way, accompanied by some joke or other no one paid attention to.

They entered the locomotive without knocking, making themselves known at last to, in fact, still be alive. Celestia shot out of her seat and, with a hopeful air, gaited past the aisle to the front where the ponies arrived.

"I'm so happy to see you all here!" she said in a choking voice. "Luna, dear sister! Twilight, Spike, you all—I was beyond worry."

"It's alright, princess," assured Twilight wearily. "We're all safe now."

"Yes," said Luna, side-glancing at Corvo with minor trepidation. "We sure are safe now."

"Leave me out of this, please," remarked Corvo, arcing his back, and then stretching his arms. "It is not even noon yet—this morning has been most dreadful. And I am starving, too. Should anyone wish to have a word with me I will be in the back."

"Right behind you... mate," said Serath quietly, nearly beside himself. "Princess Celestia, we are to return to the Crystal Empire, correct? How long do you suspect us to take?"

"It may not look the part, but this locomotive has quite a lot of horsepower," said Celestia.

"And with my added magic, it should take us no time whatsoever!" said Discord, grinning, residing back to the conductor's room.

"Oh, maybe I could join you?" said Fluttershy, smiling.

"Excellent idea!" sang Discord, and the two vanished behind the door. "I'll spruce up the cucumber sandwiches!"

Meanwhile Celestia, Luna, Twilight, and Spike sat in the two two seats which faced each other, now entering a weighty discussion of the cause behind the hold up, as well as the tragic incident in Vanhoover, what had occurred there. The rest were in a perpendicular, conversing as well, doing all they could to lighten up the mood, in a sense.

Corvo and Serath sat in the neighboring cart, deep in thought, and across from each other as well. Their hard looks did nothing to harmonize their suffering expressions or keen smiles, smiles of calamity, that is. And both were evidently anxious to start a conversation, yet an insignificant resistance hung in the atmosphere; such was their complexions which appeared to have taken on the colour of the fog outside.

"How were things on your end?" inquired Serath with refined attention, despite his sleepy eyes.

"Terribly intrusive," replied Corvo in contrast to Serath's expressive outlook. "It would've done me some good to have waited for the dribble to subside."

"Ah, not much luck with the chores. I understand, tell me what happened."

"Vanhoover was caught in a colossal wildfire. See, Sombra had taken refuge there this morning, perhaps still under the veil of night. I managed to reach city hall, tracked him to the roof."

"Oh dear, a wildfire upon a whole city!" exclaimed Serath in an undertone. "Horrifying, really. And the ponies, they were caught in it, too? Hmm, and what of King Sombra?"

"I took the diplomatic approach," said Corvo casually. "Needless to say, ah, he escaped. I have no idea how, or where to, but he managed alright."

Corvo, however, blinked hard, readily aiming to remember once more Sombra's exact words, while Serath waited anxiously to see what there was to say, that is, before initiating his side of the coin.

"Sombra and I talked, about some stuff or other," went on Corvo, but his tone was off its mark, as though he were making this up as he went along.

"Stuff or other? Corvo, please, you are rarely this vague."

"Apologies," he said in a low voice. "He hissed on with his plans, explaining to me the courses of action he took upon to get to where we are now. Most I already knew. He—oh, right, I must inform you: he told me his past failings: his first defeat a thousand years ago, his second in the Crystal Empire... of that sort! He mentioned Celestia, stated she was a part of it, presumably his plan, or going off of context, his troubles. Alluded to the others, too. Never about Luna. What do you make of that?"

Serath suddenly paused his thought process at this question, and appeared to gaze at Corvo from a new point of view. He was entirely aware of his good-natured instincts to defend those he respected, and put this partiality aside.

"I don't know," he said admittedly. "Sounds just like any other theory."

"Not just any other theory," said Corvo with a gesturing finger.

"Did he mention me?" rebutted Serath, taking in the drift of Corvo's remark. "Princess Luna and I could not be further apart in status: she is well familiar with Equestria, has dealt with King Sombra previously, accompanies the other princess...."

Corvo cast his attention to a point of dubious precautions, right at his friend in a piercing process of observation. Not because he found himself stuck, unable to respond, but on the contrary, he wanted to see everything Serath could let out on the topic.

"It is entirely possible he forgot, too," finished Serath, leaning back on his seat.

"You bring up a false equivalence, Serath," said Corvo with decision. "Sombra acted as if you did not exist, yet he expresses clear interest in the magic mirror which made your visit possible."

"So what you mean to imply is that I was thrown without a target?" said Serath, putting a fist under his chin for support.

"Not entirely," responded Corvo in a way one does when far off in a conversation; these two were used to moments similar to these. "The worst mistake a detective can commit is overseeing all possible variables with superfluous necessity, equal in its underachieving accomplishments. I mean this, and only this: your arrival might have been an accident."

"You seem confident in this assertion," said Serath with his arms now crossed. "That magic mirror, it activated in the most 'convenient' of times, to attract the two of us. But coincidences are like dense ores: common yet beneath our sights. Do you at last understand why it sucked us into Equestria?"

"I do not," said Corvo disappointingly; "however, that does not, in any probable circumstance, means it will remain like that. I am particularly interested in this form of magic, Sombra's dark magic, what I remain ignorant on, and what powers the mirror. If it were truly in his intention to bring you along with me, he would have done so earlier, for he has been to Dunwall before."

"Let us entertain the thought that, incidentally, to us, that is, he used this mirror to travel between these worlds. After all, it is the only possible method, relative to Equestrian magic, according to what Princess Celestia told me."

"Yes, yes," Corvo began to conclude, yet ever with that searching gaze. "Not even the Outsider knew of it. Therefore—"

"We can deduce he did not use this Outsider's direct control."

"Meaning it was his own, originating from Equestria. Only a specific kind of magic must accomplish such a feat."

"And you recounted, back in the castle, that Sombra took advantage of the opportunity to escape two years back." The excitement in the air, now a product of this back-and-forth commotion, animated Serath greatly, and his investment moved to align Corvo's effort with that of his own.

"I see it in a dim light now," continued Corvo. "He remained in our world for two whole years; clearly wasn't in a hurry. That mirror was meant to be long-lasting, with his own magic." He took a pause to array his considerations. "Did Sombra make a mistake? When I came back, hardly scratching a day's time, the mirror's magic was practically radiating. It was almost like a systemic chemical reaction, the sort Arbmos taught in one of his university lectures. The mirror reacted close to the Outsider's sort of magic—or my Mark, that is to say."

"Half a minute!" halted Serath. "Is it possible that he was aware of this, but perhaps only planned for your return?"

"I have my doubts," said Corvo, "so no, I do not think so. Well, maybe. If it took this long, I think one thing is certain: Sombra does not realize another human is in Equestria, that being you."

"Corvo, much like how different substances react with varied results in water—whether explosively like caesium, or not in the slightest like copper—do you believe there are different types of magics—"

"Which assume different roles in reactive states to one another? Of course!" put in Corvo before he could finish. "That is one of the few helpful facts I managed to learn during my dubious stay in Equestria."

"Then why did the Outsider not suspect Sombra's appearance in Dunwall?" pressed Serath with inherent cogitation.

"Either your copper analogy may speak for itself, or..." Corvo began to tap his boot down without realizing it; and even then he sat there, sort of wrapped in a hopeless process of elimination. "Or maybe an acid-base neutralization analogy would work best."

"How about we summarize, quickly," said Serath with a yawn, quite ready to lose himself among so many ideas and details.

"Where to start?" sighed Corvo. "The reaction of my magic set him free from his second defeat; he abused this juncture to come within our own borders, set up a way to remain there, until he felt, I suppose, satisfied, sent me the letter, and went back, now ready to take revenge on Celestia." Revenge solves everything, I might assume.

"And of that part about Princess Luna? Still suspect her of anything?"

A shadow crossed Corvo's expression, rather suddenly, too. His intent posture, now leaning forward, proved his already anxious paranoia. Still, he had to get this out, to spin these thoughts in the air with someone as capable as Serath, to reach a definite resolution. The singular weighing complication, in Corvo's reflection, was whether or not what he expected to be true seriously turned out to be the truth. And so he went on with it:

"You already know this, but allow me to provide a brief run-through: I met with the princesses in the library, they were reading this grey book, with a black 'one' etched on its cover, numerical number. Sombra revealed he set up an illusion-based trap right at the start. It was midday—the sun, directly above me—no more to the east than it sloped west. Celestia insisted we were there for hours! After all, it was deep in dusk by the time we awoke. It just doesn't add up."

"Why not?"

"Sombra waited this long to strike? Why not release the smoke during our trance? He could have been in preparation, you may argue, or merely wished to toy with our vain attempts and struggles."

"Corvo, Serath!" called Spike from the opened doorway.

Both men shifted back straight on their seats, momentarily surprised, yet when they noticed Spike, they agreed without words the case was clear. But worst of all: why would the case need to be cleared in the first place? Serath thought he was among friends, even the ponies.

"Yes?" he said.

"We've got some grub at the ready," said Spike excitedly. "Found several storage boxes beneath the seats, for emergencies. And you wouldn't believe it! Discord used the engine's heat to cook up vegetables and mashed potatoes. Come get 'em while they're hot!"

"As might be expected," said Corvo. Rising up, as well as Serath, they joined the rest to the front cart. On the way, however, Corvo asked: "By the way, what of your side of the coin?"

"We were captured, as you saw," said Serath. "The villagers you slew—shame, it turned out—were mad, daft! They hid the Crystal Heart in a chest under ground. Used a specialized alloy called dimeritium to adsorb magic."

"So that's what Discord meant."

* * *

"Ah, that hit the spot!" chirped Pinkie with a wide grin. They had piled their plates into a single plastic bag, kept off on a separate seat. "Can't believe we went that long without food. Can you believe it?"

"Agreed, wholeheartedly," put in Rarity, swiping her muzzle with a napkin.

"Not so shabby," said Corvo, being the last to finish, for he consumed the most.

"By the way"— Celestia shot him a serious glance —"I was informed on what happened in Tall Tale."

The rest froze, needlessly nervous, rapidly switching their focus back and forth between Corvo and Celestia, waiting for who would say what in perturbation.

"And?" said Corvo, seemingly unconcerned

Celestia raised a dubious eyebrow. "Well, what was that all about?" she asked in a straight manner.

"It was about saving these ponies in this very room," replied Corvo. "And Spike. And Serath. Their magic remained suppressed. Mine—low on energy. What else was I to do? Perform a stand-up of poetry and hope they go along?"

"We're supposed to save as many ponies as possible," reproached Celestia with an inherent voice for command.

"And you avoided my question," said Corvo again. "I apologize for what fell, but it is fallen, and sometimes, Princess Celestia, we much choose between a greater and lesser evil. Boundaries are blurred, if you must know."

It was the first time in years he ever referred to her as "princess."

"How about we retain this potential argument for after we relocate the Crystal Heart under the primary castle," interposed Luna with a degree of haste. "It will do us some good to trust one another."

"I agree," said Serath at length.

As to not raise any suspicion, for their own good, Corvo and Serath had decided to stay put in the same cart, engaging in friendly chatter with the ponies; but after a certain while Corvo incontrovertibly kept to himself, next to Serath, giving an occasional nod or uh-huh, but ultimately found himself more concerned with his own array of thoughts. It helped time move by more quickly, contrary to popular belief.

He even managed to keep count of the time halfway into the second hour when the locomotive the reached the snow-laden tracks, now entering the territory of the Crystal Empire. They had yet to enter a mountain-pass before the Crystal Empire came into view in all its glimmering glory.

"Hey, Serath?" said Twilight, catching the man's attention. He looked to her, confused at first, but soon noticed her questioning gaze and reflected a friendly smile.

"Yes, Twilight?" he said.

"Maybe this isn't the best time to ask, considering what's on our minds right now, but do you believe that Sombra knew we would steal back the Crystal Heart?"

"I would not put my heart on it," replied Serath, scratching the back of his head. "Remember, those villagers stood mere seconds from tossing us in the dumps. There were even those dimeritium poles placed, as to ensure no magical intervention could occur; and Tall Tale is a way's off from Vanhoover. I believe he had almost everything figured out, and by the luck of displacement Corvo turned up." He gave his friend from across a sympathetic side-stare. "As much as I disapprove of his methods, he did save us. He could have waited and told Princess Celestia he arrived too late, but didn't, and risked his life."

"Yeah," she sighed with folded ears, though that look of sadness lingered still upon her features.

"What is the matter?" said Serath. "A bit out of the loop, huh? Several things I can recommend for that."

"No, not that," she chuckled at last, realizing her over-expression. "It's just that I thought I had everything figured out, but as it turns, I was way off my mark. Just an annoying feeling, really."

"Well, we do learn from our mistakes."

"I guess so."

There was an awkward pause.

"Hey," she said again.

"Hmm," he looked back to her.

"Princess Celestia told me you have a family. Even carry a photograph with you. How, um, how are they?"

"Better off than myself!" he laughed with levity. "Sorry, but yes, they're alright, you can say. I have a boy, six years only, and my wife ended her oh-so-woeful—as she loves to remark—pregnancy last year. Took off four weeks from work to support her, but it was worth every second."

"Oh..." Twilight, much to Serath's lack of understanding, looked at her hooves pointlessly, still thinking on what he said. "You must be worried, right? Here you are, in complete danger, helping us, when your family is back there in your world."

"I will never hear the end of it when I get back, but they're safe. My health comes last. Ironic, isn't it, coming from a doctor?"

"But I know what it's like to worry about your family, especially now. Oh, I mean, I'm not married, obviously not!" she nearly raised her voice, and then smiled sheepishly. "I just love my family, like you love yours, I'm sure."

"Naturally."

"You know, I really like you, Serath." But upon witnessing Serath's staggered expression she sat up and waved her hooves about, blushing furiously. "Oh, no, no, no, no! Not what I meant! So not what I meant! I like you, uh, as a friend! Yeah, you're really... nice, and all," she ended steadily.

"Thanks, I guess," said Serath, slowly nodding his head. "You are nice to talk with, too. Making new friends is always a pleasure. And a true friend is the greatest of all blessings."

"By the way," began Twilight, smiling, "mind if I see that photo? It'd be nice, you know, probably bring my spirits up."

"Oh... okay then." But Before Serath could even begin to search his pocket, the locomotive swept past the mountain range, shining a pale light through the windows. A scattered snow-fall swept up the area, but nothing too limiting.

"We're here!" announced Luna, catching everyone's attention, which was, suffice to say, what stopped Serath from searching his inner-pocket. They all stared hurriedly through several windows.

"Spike, get the Crystal Heart," went on Luna. "Once we arrive at the station, it's to the castle at once. Sombra's smoke still spreads, but at this rate, given the distance, it should be till nighttime before it reaches us. And... we—wait a minute..." She squinted her eyes to the distance, getting a better view of the Empire itself. However, when the snow passed and the clouds parted, the Empire was no longer present.

Only a wall of pitch-dark smoke, as wide as the mountain range surrounding them, rapidly approaching. They were too late. Sombra's magic had engulfed the north.

Corvo saw this, and remarked: "Could we not have arrived but an hour earlier!"

Author's Note

In case anyone missed it, "dimeritium" is a reference to the Witcher franchise.

Chapter 6: The Shadows Retreat

A hedge of shadows, as dark as a bottomless well, rounded off beyond the Crystal Empire, resting above the snow-capped mountains, conforming to its every nook and edge, sweeping down the paths like a terrible avalanche. Indeed, the Empire could no longer be seen, merely replaced by a titanic pulp of black smog, racing with extraordinary velocity towards the approaching locomotive. A look to the east revealed a similar fate: a wave too great and towering to be fully observed at a single angle connected to the rest of the blanket, the one covering the houses and castle. The calm before the storm, whatever it was, had behaved far too quietly.

Naturally, the group broke into a most wasteful panic.

"Lot less privy than we thought," remarked Serath in a low voice.

"No, no, no, no!" cried Twilight, beside herself to a stage of disparity, glaring frantically out the window, as if wishing it weren't real. "How could this have happened? Were—we were mistaken? What did we do wrong? Oh... what happened!"

"This is what King Sombra wanted," said Celestia gravely, at the edge of her nerves, yet remained composed. "He knew exactly what he bargained for at Vanhoover, doubly so in Tall Tale. This doesn't make any sense; we should have had at least another twelve hours before his smoke touched the Crystal Empire's borders. There's hundreds of kilometers between us and Canterlot, to my knowledge."

Luna mumbled something almost entirely incoherent, shaking her head slowly.

"A tad more action would suffice—greatly, in fact!" demanded Corvo, nearly jumping from his seat. "The Crystal Empire is taken, not much more we can do! It must not end here, least of all when at this distance. Discord, split the waters and ride us out of here at once!" Haste was the only thing on his mind.

"Oh, er, of course! Surely we can't end up like this! Sail away!" said Discord without ease, his lips twitching with an edge of indignation; he smacked his paws and claws together, emitting a flash of magic, an aurora swallowing the locomotive whole, only for an instance. The train teleported in such a fraction of time that before anyone could come to their senses they were heading in the opposite direction, without ever losing momentum; in fact, their acceleration seemed to multiple.

Discord went on with evident alarm: "So only now do we get the short end of the... well, of the situation! And after so much well-sought progress, too."

A shift of potential force waved across the cart, leaning everyone back and even throwing some deep into their seats. A widening boom of compressed air followed shortly. It took a bit to get accustomed to such speeds.

"How fast are we going?" asked Rainbow Dash, too shook to check out the window again.

"Nothing to worry about, folks!" put in Discord. "Breaking the sound barrier is only a wee startle at first."

Serath remained still in alarmed silence, realizing now what they had encountered: Sombra's magic had overtaken the Crystal Empire, which led him to believe its residents either fled or slept face-first in the pavement, or rather, crystal roads.

Corvo put a palm over his forehead, evident now that his irritability increased with each passing moment. This revelation brought both a dreadful fear and an expected deduction, much like before; he was frozen like a stump, eyes shaking every which way in a wild arrangements of contradicting thoughts, for truly, for his own sake, this deduction was of capital importance. He was expecting it. But it wasn't resolving itself just yet.

"He meant to delay us," he said at length, aimlessly. "That much is obvious. Prepared that deleterious set up at Tall Tale, hoping we rode in for the rescue. It worked, to say the least, unfortunately, that is. By the time we at last took hold of that cursed artifact—the Crystal Heart, that is—he expected us once again to race back here, at the end of all things. We did not think it through, not efficiently, I mean. And now... now... what a world..."

"We came 'round back all fer nothin'!" spat Applejack angrily. She crossed her hooves and fell back, head bowed in shame. "Can't believe he beat us to it."

"We all share you pain, Applejack," said Rarity in an effort for reassurance. The frowns were all clear, unbidden, shared equally in their bewilderment. For now, all the company could hope to do was run, and live for another day, if that day ever came to be. This thought darkened the mood even further.

"Where to now?" inquired Serath bitterly. "There is no place left to go."

"We need to go away first!" said Luna with a terrible bitterness as well. "As far away from here as supposedly possible, and more so after that. We cannot stay here. We must go away."

"Discord," called Celestia with a cold sigh, "keep the train going at this rate, and bring us through the Unicorn Range, further south than initially planned, then above White Tail Woods."

"Odd relocation," remarked Corvo, crossing his arms. "Been a while since I last ventured in that forest. Times change, you can say."

"And then keep our tracks on the line," continued Celestia; "don't stop, not even once." She turned round to face the rest of the passengers, eyeing them with a careful consideration. This responsibility, bewildered in its delivery, inspired her with a powerful and poignant impression, that is, the need to put one's heart down for the greater good, even if it gave everyone present a sense of belonging. Celestia knew this particularly well, and even strangely regretted it, but along these intervals of waiting she had to commit to a steady face and clear mind. Panic would do no good.

"And what then, princess?" said Twilight with quiet power in her voice.

"Then," Celestia drew a breath, thinking hard back to Equestria's geography, "we, if need be—and it looks that way—we'll need to take shelter. I know a place, a safe haven for now. No Everfree monsters prancing in the forest's borders or beneath the tables. Not much left to the imagination: it's abandoned."

"I never suspected this to be true," muttered Corvo with conviction. "Just now we had our feet in the graves; a step further and it would have been ensured. I will take your word on this, Celestia: this safe haven you speak of, that is."

"Wait a minute," interposed Rainbow Dash with anxious haste, "where exactly are we going now? Seriously, how could anything get better when Sombra beat us to the Crystal Empire!"

"I rather wait until safety is definite," said Luna, first looking out the window, then looking upon the rest of the group. "First we should get far away enough where we can keep a steady pace for the locomotive. Then we shall put our heads together, when everything is a bit clearer and calmer."

"I... I agree with Princess Luna," opined Twilight. This present revelation shocked her to such a degree she was having trouble merely arraying her words. She shook her head firmly and sat on the seat. She went on with renewed confidence: "That smoke is still out there, and the Empire's parameters are still visible. We need to at least get through White Tail before deciding on anything else."

"I agree as well," said Celestia with a nod. "This sort of careless necessity to accomplish our goal is what led us to this."

"I would not be so sure," said Corvo, crossing his arms. "We were all very careful. A mild bump in the long road before, but nothing we could not handle."

"Bump in the road?" reproached Celestia, creasing her brow. "You think those violent flames engulfing Vanhoover was a bump in the road?"

"And what about the crazy townsponies!" said Rainbow Dash indignantly.

"That was a pretty big bump if you ask me," said Pinkie Pie, blinking almost painfully.

Corvo heaved a sigh and moved to his own seat. "The point is," he started, "given everything that I know, Sombra would not have enough time or information to both gauge the exact moment we would come back, more or less, as well as setting Vanhoover ablaze and delaying Serath when scouting out the Crystal Heart. Too convenient, if you want my opinion. Unless, as it might go, Sombra is able to manipulate his smoke from afar, even with a locked constant velocity. If that is so, truly, tell me how that is possible."

"That could very well be the case," said Luna, almost reluctantly.

"Whatever it may be, we'll get to the bottom of it later," said Celestia. "Give it some time. We need it."

"But is our time not limited?" put in Serath all of a sudden.

"Markedly limited," said Corvo suddenly.

Celestia moaned long but quietly to herself and, without even noticing it, sat right next to Corvo. "Listen up, everypony!" She caught their immediate attention. "There exists a place in Equestria, hard-leaning towards the west. It's a large expansion of land, completely uninhabited, like I mentioned. It's been a long while since I last paid visage to this location, centuries even, but I know of a hidden house, built on the backs of your ancestors. It's old-fashioned and a little creaky, but there might be useful supplies stored in there. This is the safe haven."

"A... house?" said Twilight confusingly.

"Not even I have ever heard of this supposed house," said Luna with a dubious air. Her eyes, which had something of a mysterious look to them, focused intently on her sister.

Celestia nodded in response. "Yes, an old house. It's long forgotten by practically everypony alive, everypony with the exception being myself. I kept it a secret for any sort of, you can say, unusual measures. There are even a few cold lanterns left, if I remember correctly. It really was quite a long time ago."

"Good to know," said Corvo, yawning, resting his cheek on his palm, "but I am done in."

"Here isn't the best place to rest your eyes," said Luna, looking round her.

Corvo shrugged sluggishly, as though it took tremendous effort. "Not a problem. Noise does not inconvenience my sleep."

"Ah, yes, yes—it does no one any good to think on a weary mind," said Serath with a yawn, throwing out the remark for anyone who would like to catch it. He wandered to the back of the cart, to the very last seat in the corner, fell upon it and threw his arms behind his head.

A black shadow encompassed the whole locomotive. They had now passed under the mountain.

"So... now what?" said Fluttershy quietly, darting her eyes between her friends and the princesses.

"We'll throw our ideas in the air at a later time," responded Celestia. "It's still morning, but I recognize that we were up all night, all of us, and the day before that. For now Discord shall lead us in the path I specified; meanwhile we should all get some rest."

Celestia proceeded to snap down the binds over all the windows, to effectively shut off the sun's light from within the cart. The ponies bore that look in their faces, the sort of countenance which, in the most extreme cases, hint at a final stage, or a near-final stage, of cynical tension, ready to snap at a moment's unusual notice. At the most basic level, they were depressed, and this showed in the slow gaits as each pony found a seat to rest upon. There was little talk, and ever less movement a minute after that.

"Do you feel it..." whispered Corvo rather loudly, to no one in particular; he started wearily, but with that intention one observes when boredom leads to the rude enjoyment of the discomfort of others, if only for a personal observation. "Do any of you feel it?" he went on for a final time in that part of the day, for most of the known journey. "A type of gloomy candor: that product of failure which causes one to be beside themselves with an extraordinary emotion. Our current chapter, as it stands, is, well, it truly is the epitome of gloomy excitement. There is no room for joyful contemplation. Good night. I mean, good day."

* * *

The ride went on quite smoothly and largely interrupted, albeit with brief bumps under the train at certain points, which remained forgotten afterwards. The fellowship slept uneasily; most of them tossed and turned in anxiety, their dreams flashing back to a pale, distorted memory of their first visit to the Crystal Empire, but for the second half of this trip there seemed to be a sense of calmness and satisfied weariness. They at last managed to sleep soundly, the singular sound remaining would be that of the locomotive's engine.

After six or so hours Celestia awoke with a muffled yawn; she then woke up her sister and the two lit their horns to lower the sun and bring forth the moon, if only to ensure a modicum of order. About two hours afterwards the ponies rose up as well, one by one; in between this time Corvo had also gotten up and now sat up straight, inspecting his sword rather patiently. The last to stir from their sleep was Serath. Discord had stayed awake the entire time.

"It's a good thing to see you all bright-eyed and eager now," Discord had called out stiffly, a small smile twisting on his lips. "We ought to arrive at Celestia's preferred destination in less than twenty minutes."

"Man, I'm exhausted!" drawled out Rainbow Dash. She flew up for a moment, stretched her arms, and fell back down to her seat. A mysterious gleam lingered in her eyes, and she glanced towards her friends worryingly. "Hey, did any of you girls have any, er, nightmares?"

They all nodded restlessly in unison, and Rarity added: "Quite so, dear. I dreamt up an awful sight. King Sombra was there, staring straight at me..."

"Are ya serious?" said Applejack, mildly perplexed. "Ah dreamt the same thing." The rest agreed, which only added to their growing and feverish anxiety. In the very first minute they had woken up—less than that, in fact—a fantastical idea overwhelmed their heads, one that suggested everything that had occurred up until this instance was bottled up to a bad dream. However, even within these first few seconds, each and every one of them stood entirely aware of their reality, knew very well what Sombra was currently up to, and yet that behaviour of grasping at straws one may show precisely at the moment one wakes up—this is exactly what the ponies experienced, much to their displeasure.

"Did you dream of anything, princess?" asked Twilight, spotting Celestia and Luna opposite to her.

"Very little actually," said Celestia. "It's all hazy. I remember towering over a sea, and ponies crying below me, about something; maybe this relates to King Sombra, maybe... but it's too ambiguous. I rather not think about it."

"I managed quite an episode of contemplation in my dream, mostly along the lines of what led to the events back in Canterlot, but even so I didn't figure much out," said Luna sharply. "Of course, I always have lucid dreams, but I wished not to disturb any of you."

"What about you, Corvo?" asked Twilight, looking at him intently. "Did you have any dreams?" He turned his head to her and exhaled softly.

"No, I did not," he replied; but every now and then he tried to suppress a trembling in his shoulders.

"So you slept well?"

"Can't complain."

He sheathed his folding sword carefully, as to not cut his fingers, and slipped open the small curtain at the window in front of him. The night sky glowed a bluish shade of black, serene and with myriad white stars. However, he renewed his focus on the outdoor environments in surprise: trees, now gaunt in appearance, were spread far more scarcely; empty fields of grass, some areas shorter than others, swept up into strange hills in the very distance, accumulating up towards rocky cliffs. The ground even seemed to become dirtier and with more gravel. Eventually the train developed a minor sway to it, and a horrible crunching sound, intertwined with its wheels, echoed in their cart. Not a single cloud hovered above their heads.

"Celestia," said Serath suddenly, "did you not mention that we were to set off west of, eh, the city of origin? I have seen a map already; the city in the center, I mean, west from there."

"Canterlot," put in Celestia, listening with consideration.

"Yes, that is it," continued Serath. There was something odd in his wording: he spoke slowly, as though lapsing into an unexpected train of thought. He crossed his arms, cast a glance out the window, and went on: "My concern does not lie necessarily on our chosen direction, in fact, it appears that the west is the only place which leads to areas of arable land; really, King Sombra's black smoke has now consumed the Crystal Empire, which practically ties the noose round our necks. We—cannot turn back now, so what are we to do? The smoke shall not cease in its advancement, at least not any time soon, as far as I can tell. If we halt for as much as a day, the danger would force us to continue our trek. In accordance to your plan, Celestia, are we not aiming to leave Equestria? Apologies if I am mistaken in any way."

"My thoughts exactly," said Corvo. "Sombra certainly meant to smoke us out—literally. This was all done to build a boundary round us, so as to prevent our success. Knowing that, the next step in his plan absolutely must involve getting rid of us, all of us, but especially the two princesses. And what of Cadence and her husband?"

"The Crystal guards were as watchful as ever," said Celestia, looking reassuringly at Twilight, whose ears drooped low at the mention of her brother. "They most definitely managed to escape. To where, that is, where they are right now, we may only know upon cleaning up the smoke."

"If 'cleaning up the smoke' is even a possibility now," remarked Corvo quietly.

Twilight at once snapped a deliberate, unmoving, and most fervent glare at Corvo, ready to throw her voice out in spite of commonalities, but heaved a sigh and shook her head; and said: "Don't say that. You can't know."

Corvo, however, did not deign to reply. But this nonchalant display of character—presumably unintentional on his part, for he had no reason in his mind to offer a cogent response—showed superficially as he turned his head away, slightly but enough to notice, even before Twilight had concluded her sentence.

"What do you really think about this?" Twilight put in again. "I mean, doubting ourselves couldn't possibly serve us in any meaningful way."

"If I may offer my grasp of possible encouragement," said Serath softly, as though thinking better of it, sitting down next to Corvo, "the purpose of a team-up, or a temporary synergy, is to overcome adversity despite our differences. We have done so splendidly, in my opinion."

"I certainly agree," Luna caught up; warmth shone on her face. "Look at us, just look, if you can. Our situation may be in complete shambles, but that shall not stop us from uniting together and face the darkness; reciting words of cynicism is nothing but frivolous slop. Of course we'll make it in the end. This isn't the first threat to face Equestria, after all."

"So it is," said Serath, happy, as it were, to see such a kind being in Luna. His lips flashed into a pale, thin smile, and however weighed down he was at the moment by his own grief, his eyes involuntarily rested on her with attention. "There is no pride to be found in cynicism."

There struck in Corvo a great and powerful, and vexatious, sudden surge of skepticism, the sort of doubt which grapples onto your heart and refuses to let go until you've solved the matter. Whether this was a product of sheer instinct, he did not know. He gave Luna a piercing and menacing gaze, rolling over in his mind what to respond with; but whenever he had an idea, a half-finished conclusion took its place, like he was inconceivably eager to finish a puzzle. But this all burned away quickly. He dropped his eyes, as though he were alone, and a static terror ran up in his veins; hot blood rushed to his face and brought fire to his cheeks.

"I... quite disagree," he said abruptly, pale, his face twisted into a painful smile. A cruel line flashed in his smile, too, which arose discomfort for some. And having said that, he himself looked frightened, although this was disguised with caustic levity. Only Celestia, and maybe Serath, took notice of this shift in behaviour.

"Okay, now you're just being depressing," deadpanned Rainbow Dash. And then addressing her friends: "Come on, guys, I'm sure something can lighten the mood 'till we get there."

"Ooh, I know," said Spike hopingly, grinning at them all, "how about we tell each other riddles again? It'll be just like yesterday."

"Hold on just a moment," said Luna calmly, smiling familiarly at Corvo, and then she added demurely, yet with infinite composure and indirect projection: "I would very much like to know why Corvo disagrees with his friend. 'There is no pride to be found in cynicism'—a wonderful saying, and practically useful to live by. Many will catch on to it. But you don't think it's frivolous, do you?"

"If I may add an ending to what I mentioned," said Serath, quick to get his voice out, glancing over to Corvo, "I am in mere disapproval of cynicism, and the idea of cynical pride. Whatever 'frivolous slop' is supposed to be is entirely between you two." He leaned back in his seat.

Luna looked at Corvo with an air of candor, but remained silent. This openness Corvo received from her: it seemed so reasonable and yet so infuriating to him—he at last realized that there was the most intense curiosity in him, which would not be satisfied until he conversed with Luna. In such a case, he began to notice the supposed terror in his veins, and while right before he managed to ignore it, now he sensed the sensation intensified when heeding Luna's words of polite encouragement. Something was off, something mysterious, and it lingered in the air, utterly intangible and mockingly. Corvo never truly disliked Luna before, but right now, with the company in the train, right about ready to reach Celestia's desired destination, there was no one else Corvo hated more than Luna.

It was almost like he had to restrain himself from saying anything too damaging, too impulsive, but this particular need for restraint is what, in a sense, put him in a bind.

"Why are you surprised at me?" said Corvo severely. "I am only weighing our anchors for the unseen future, which means one must assume the worst."

"Yes, but we must have a mutual trust, otherwise things would never settle," said Luna. "Don't you agree?"

"Certainly not near you," said Corvo, passing from humility to rudeness.

Serath stared in both amazement and rigid concern. The ponies were just as taken aback, but lapsed into irritation and were about to talk back to Corvo when Celestia had her say: "Leave any debates of personal interest for later, once we actually manage to defeat King Sombra, and only then."

"Corvo dear," said Rarity at length, raising a concerned eyebrow, "what could have possibly gotten you so bad-humored? Was it the train? We all felt those dreadful bumps, I assure you."

"Yes," replied Corvo stiffly, inclining his head, "it was the bumps." It seemed like he gave a start, but at the same time he was evidently unruffled. "They continue, even now. This much gravel over the tracks—that is not ordinary. I think the locomotive was never meant to go this far."

"You're right," said Celestia. "We're nearing the western border of Equestria, and it's long been desolate. Ponies have ceased to fixing these tracks many years ago."

"I noticed that too, princess," said Twilight as she eyed the forlorn field through the small window. She turned round and, while not quite in a sad mood, she was by no means untroubled anymore. "Not even I've ever been to this place."

"It should also buy us a half a day extra, maybe a full one if we're lucky," said Celestia; her voice carried that edge of uncertainty, however hopeful it sounded in the beginning.

"Dear oh dear," began Serath in a contrived whisper, leaning to the side, "do any of you reckon that, possibly, Sombra might know of this abandoned house Celestia aims to take us, if by chance, perhaps? It would... be unfortunate for us."

"No," Luna put out firmly before the rest even had a second to fully absorb Serath's suggestion. "Not even I knew of this location, and I'm very articulate in how I garner knowledge. There's not many things my sister knows that I remain on the other side of the curtain on. King Sombra isn't omniscient."

"That makes sense, I guess" said Serath quietly, leaning his chin on an elbow. He stared out his window after drawing up the blind and frowned. He remained uneasy, though this the ponies understood, even sympathetically precisely because of his limited view of Equestria.

"Perhaps we'd be in the best state of mind upon arrival," said Discord, walking by the aisle. "Speaking of which, get packing!" he ended as soon as the train sluggishly slowed to a halt.

* * *

Just as Corvo imagined, this anticipated abandoned house stood far from where they got off, right at the outskirts of a foreign forest quite too off the path to be considered wholly Equestrian. It was hideously decrepit, but had a spacious appearance: one-storied, three rooms separated by thick wooden walls—the primary room took up half the available space, and the other two rooms each took a fourth—there was no paint to be found anywhere, and the roof was seemingly bent downwards, yet incredibly sturdy. In one of the smaller and more empty rooms was a ladder that led downwards to a narrow basement lined with shelves, most of which had collapsed with age. It remained dark there, too, and this basement held a number of ancient books, all of them unopened for thousands of years.

All in all, no one was particularly happy to be paying a visit to such a broken-off structure; the house was old, gloomy, and a tad spacious; still, they were nevertheless glad to have someplace to lie down. And when they managed to swing forth the loose front door and wander inside, the place was surprisingly clean; noticeably messy, but not a complete dump either.

Seizing the moment, the six ponies all sat together, side-by-side, on a wide mahogany couch. Corvo took notice of the dull logs within the hearth and watched as Celestia immediately set it ablaze; and in the next minute he surveyed the adjacent rooms, much to his disappointment, except for the ladder. Eventually the amber glow caught on, and soon everyone found a spot to settle down.

"Very little dirt here," remarked Corvo.

"Perhaps the wind does the work," said Serath.

"The weather is largely controlled by us ponies," said Celestia. "If you noticed, the sky is completely clear. No precipitation either, though the air is anything but dry. Well, this is as far as we'll get for the next twelve hours, give or take..."

"I for one find this awfully boring!" proclaimed Discord, his voice filled with caustic despair. "Are we seriously supposed to sit here the whole night? All of it? Plus the following morning? King Sombra is the last pony to give us a break."

"It's sure gonna be a long night, everypony," said Twilight, aimlessly gazing upwards to the ceiling.

"Excuse my temporary absence. Talk about whatever you want, I will be over there," said Corvo, rising to his feet and striding towards the smaller room with two short chairs, the one with the ladder below. The opposite room was utterly empty and even gutted, however. There stood out a remarkable distinctness in his voice, assuring rather obviously that he needed a smaller space to think, or at least be distracted.

Something as of yet lingered on his mind, and it was almost like Corvo had forgotten about the ponies, left them to the background, as it were, leaving off some growing detachment. Of course, this attitude shouldn't be made a top concern, it really was just the need for some alone time, and yet this 'something' is what carried the most weight, like a mental anchor on Corvo. Regardless, his temporary absence was just that: temporary negligence. He left it as such.

"How about I join you?" put in Serath almost mechanically. There were careful notes in his voice as well. "I might need something to talk about, if you get me."

Corvo shrugged at first, as though he were indifferent, but when he got to the room and nearly threw himself on the chair, with Serath doing the same, a transformation took hold of the air then, making both men anxious to start a conversation, which they did at once.

At the same time, Celestia and Luna had decided to leave the ponies to it and discuss matters in the other room.

With the exception of Discord starting up some chatter with the ponies and annoying them every once in a while, not much worthwhile happened until midnight, or somewhere round that time.

* * *

It was only after a number of hours subsequent to their arrival when Twilight had grown awkwardly impatient with the nontransparent quietness of the entire setting. She was weaving into a sensible state of worry, reasonable as it was, to the point where she gradually stopped responding to her friends altogether and let them finish up their chatter. Celestia and Luna had come back to stay in the primary room for the vast majority of their stay, but a little after midnight the two sisters were back in the empty room again. It was in the best interest of planning, Twilight assumed, to see what the others were up to.

The door separating her from Corvo and Serath was only two-thirds of the way closed, so she gently pushed it forward and peeked inside, hopeful curiosity highlighting her face. Judging by the rapidness of their exchanges and the calm approach both took in engaging each other, it was self-evident that they had been conversing for some time now; but then again, thought Twilight, it had been at least five hours, and no one could possibly speak so excitedly for five hours—again, at least. She wondered momentarily and thoughtfully if every few scenes they would lapse into silence, as to recollect themselves, and continue onward in half-whispers.

Serath showed physical signs that he noticed her. When Twilight had stuck her head in the room he flashed a glance to the side, interrupted only for an instance, and then looked back to his friend. She decided to pay attention first and foremost.

"The whole point of my article was to demonstrate the irresoluteness of modern philosophers," went on Serath. "This very notion that lawlessness comes from the conduct of mankind's negotiations—I fail to see it. Quite possibly since the dawn of scientific revolution (about two or three hundred years ago, I would say) there has been a valley cut into the system of direct morals used to unite us, to keep us safe from one another and build together a cohesive story known as contemporary history, and this has been subjected to intense scrutiny from some scientists, but more broadly from philosophers. You know: the ones whom our students love to quote and read about—Moore, Sokolov, Galvani, er... you know... it has been some effective critique, and the onslaught is nothing to laugh about, but I defend traditional moral boundaries on the argument that they encourage reconciliation with the sciences."

"The issue I notice is your grouping together of what is an objective fact and what is useful," said Corvo with pedantic composure. "Take, for instance, a scenario where a tricky little orphan, a helpless creature of ten really, manages to steal a large hunk of bread and afterwards gets reported, and chased off by the local guards. He then comes by your house, timidly knocks on your door, and asks—first asks, that is—for your forgiveness, and then, with that wicked little expression, begs to be 'hid under the carpet', mere moments before the guards turn up round the corner. It is useful in the universal sense to give up the orphan to the authorities, because then you would avoid the risk of getting stapled on the law's blacklist and might even receive a reward. If, however, you choose to conceal such a thief, what will you get from it? Risk your good reputation, get a husky 'thank you' from the child and never see him again? Sorry, I seem to be rambling on again, but—let's back up—and here is what I mean: moral truth centers on what we agree upon. The universe is indifferent, it does not care about human affairs, and why would it? If something is useful, it will be useful, depending on context (again, context can change a whole lot), if something is the truth, it is the truth."

"That does not tell me how to act. We live on the fumes of spiritual morals—I say 'spiritual' very loosely—because science did not exist three hundred, four hundred years ago, so the purpose of a civilized society was to negotiate despite our differences and in place of objective morals, because a consensus of morality is what defines us, I would argue. People are messy and complicated and emotional and, worst of all, irrational. You would agree that people are intrinsically irrational, you have stated it before."

"I agree that you cannot uphold moral goodness within a vacuum, and I especially agree that moral presuppositions are not a product of rationality, but upon that notion it is most beneficial to us, as a society, to experiment in the field of nature and truth. In fact, committing yourself to 'immoral' acts will only delay mankind's progress. And you may question: what could we possibly garner from social evolution? A better life, a better world, a reason to care. We have all negotiated already, and it is decided—it is in the best interest of us all to focus on advancement of culture and ditch the violent ways of living. We know very clearly how to act."

"And who is to say that I should care about mankind's mark on the world? If there is no spiritual unifying force, we cannot live prosperously, because there is no certainty. It is like learning about absolute figures in physics: there is always the fog ahead of the numbers, because nothing is ever as accurate as it could be, not in practice. The presupposition that there is value to living by mere virtue of existing is highly functional and the reason we are alive today; it is not a scientific presupposition as you claim, as this way of thinking dates back thousands of years ago. There is material truth, but genuine truth is in how we ought to act. But... no matter... I, uh, believe Twilight wants a word with us."

At the mention of her name Twilight gave a great start, as though she touched an open wound. She had been very interested in what they were discussing, even if several of their references went over her head. Still, she looked at both of them with consideration and sighed.

"Sorry to interrupt either of you," she hurried up with a small smile. "Just wanted to see what you guys were up to."

“I doubt it would interest you,” said Corvo dismissively; but he then looked upon Twilight like something new of value had become clear to him. “Or perhaps it could. Serath and I—we are debating the necessity of objective morality.”

“Hmm, objective ethics…” continued Twilight wonderingly. “Wait, you two are debating morals, as in, what's right and wrong? How does that work?”

“By... talking about it,” suggested Serath, shrugging, noticing the perplexed countenance which described the alicorn. “Is something the matter?”

“Well, nevermind,” bemused Corvo, at the same time extremely satisfied with himself. “The topic certainly does invoke some confusion. Serath, these ponies—they are a mindful lot, mindful but oblivious.”

“Hey, what do you mean by ‘oblivious’?” demanded Twilight, taking offence at once. “I’m just asking.”

“Yes, but you are terribly out of it on the topic of controversy,” said Corvo again, curtly. “That is to say, Equestria must not deal with any personal controversy, at least not as far as I can tell. Your princesses, Celestia and Luna, it is rather apparent that everyone loves a dual-monarchy, of sorts at least (called a diarchy if I remember correctly). I have never read of any attempts at a revolution, it is not required. There are no high-end political disagreements present in this land. Must get very dull.”

“Maybe they discuss magic and monsters,” put in Serath. “There are quite a number of supernatural elements to this country. It looks to be leagues more entertaining than what we are obliged to deal with back at home, eh?”

“Hmm, whatever it is…” Corvo rose from his chair, stretching his back quickly. He pushed open the door all the way and cast a glance over the primary room. The other ponies were present, each expressing solemn weariness, yet none were asleep; Discord stood in the corner, quite bored out of his wits. “It was getting stuffy in here regardless. I feel out of it myself.”

“Eh, fine as it stands. We have all the time in the world to leave off the conversation for later,” said Serath, somehow shuddering.

“But what exactly were you two talking about?” asked Twilight, rubbing a hoof under her chin. “It’s been hours.”

As the three of them strode over to the center of the room, right in front of the fire, Corvo went on to explain the gist of it, although there caught on notes of disinterest in his voice; his talk with Serath indeed accomplished in putting some ease to his senses, but he now intended to lie down somewhere else. He really did sum it up quickly and vaguely, as so: “We gossiped a tad, as every nineteenth century contrarian loves to do, mostly concerning the current week’s newspapers. Then it was about Equestria and what I could recollect from my second visit—Serath had me at a plethora of questions. At a certain point I wanted to climb down the ladder and search the basement, but it is far too dark (which reminds me, I need a light source for later). Then we decided to move onto the topic of scientific developments, which led to the debate about morals, of which we were forty minutes into before you walked in. That is all, I think, all in all.”

Somehow they all managed to fit onto the couch, with the exception of Serath who volunteered to sit on the floor opposite to them. The ponies didn't seem to mind this sudden appearance in the slightest.

“There really ain’t much to do ‘round here,” remarked Applejack, frowning.

“How about we play a game?” said Serath, grinning affably, but in a respectable voice.

“A game?” said Rarity, inspecting Serath with consideration. “Whatever could you have in store for us, darling?”

“Finally!” drawled out Pinkie Pie in comical despair, her face nearly sweating. “I’ve been playing tic-tac-toe against Applejack for the past four hours!”

“Yeah, and ya kept winning!” reproached Applejack, much to her annoyance.

“Hold up,” said Rainbow Dash loudly, “I also wanna know what Serath’s idea of a game is.”

“Oh, I will show you a game alright,” said Serath in his best attempt to sound menacing, surveying everyone in the room dubiously. “It is an ancient game, a game of powerful secrets and intense adversity, one that demands the height of your attention and requires monumental spirit. On a complete psychological level, most do not survive, for many are incapable of holding onto such a responsibility. This ‘game’, as you and I put it, is the dividing line between friendship and enemies, night and day, good and evil—the ultimate challenge!”

“Well, come on, spit it out already!” said Rainbow Dash, failing to notice her wings had started to flap excitedly, and she hovered in the air.

“Yeah, tell us!” cried Pinkie Pie, grinning wildly.

“The game is called Challenges and Commands!”

Dubious confusion arose at once, and soon after it died down like a deflating balloon. The ponies all stared to one another, deciding on what Serath had meant, and at last Fluttershy said: “You mean Truth or Dare?”

“Truth or Dare?” repeated Serath, giving the ponies a long look. “Eh, yes, those synonyms do convey a similar meaning.”

Agitated groans of disappointment fumed from the ponies, which only resulted in Serath shooting worried looks back and forth.

“Ah, no, it really is quite fun!” he assured.

“Yeah, we’ve played it before,” said Rainbow Dash flatly. “Dozens of times, in fact.”

“Correct me if needed, but Challenges and Commands—Truth or Dare—is always worth playing with new members, for it offers a different experience,” said Corvo, smirking beneath the shadow on his face. “Why not a couple of rounds?”

"Oh, I'll start!" announced Spike, raising his arm. The others nodded, some more gladly than others, and he went on: "Okay, so, er, Serath—truth or dare?"

"I choose truth."

"What's the most embarrassing thing you've ever had to experience?"

"Come on, Spike," groaned Twilight, quite disliking Spike's question from the get-go. "You're gonna start with that?"

"Ha, ha, it is quite alright!" laughed Serath slowly, rubbing his hand over his head. His hand then drooped low, palm over his face, accompanied by a sigh, and then his shoulders sunk. "It was during my first year in the Medical Academy. Back then—the format has changed by now—but back then I was required to perform an ocular analysis on a patient. I was under careful watch, naturally, being examined down to the most insignificant detail, as to confirm whether or not I could continue with my studies. The thing of capital importance to keep in mind is to use direct wording, never stutter, speak fluently; the fate of your patient is often in your grasp, you know. After tedious consideration, at the end of my analysis, I told my patient: 'Your eyes are pretty', I paused, to which she responded: 'Why, thank you', but then I gazed at her with the utmost confusion, wondering why exactly she would thank me. My supervisors glanced at me with disapproval, to my horror, and began to write down on their papers. At once my own eyes widened, and I babbled to her: 'Damaged!' She was taken aback and even tilted her head, to which I claimed again: 'Your eyes are pretty damaged.' I managed to succeed in their opinion, as you see me now, but barely."

"Ha, ha! Excellent!" laughed Corvo with a sort of derisive expression, but with enough momentary politeness as to not invoke a rebuttal.

"I really hope your patient is alright," said Fluttershy hesitantly. She moved her own pupils round and became dizzy. "I've never had my eyes hurt."

"That must've been a nightmare!" declared Twilight, nearly in a stupor. "Last thing I'd want to do is disappoint my supervisors."

"Can you do an analysis on me next!" Pinkie suggested, though unsure of what she was really asking for.

"Okay, okay, my turn," said Serath quickly. "Rarity, truth or dare?"

"I shall choose truth. Rather not get my hooves dirty."

"Very well. What is the most expensive thing you own?"

"Oh my, where to begin! When I was in collaboration with Fancy Pants (a very wealthy friend of mine, Serath) back in Canterlot to design the perfect wedding dress for a cousin of his, what we produced was absolutely divine! You see, it was extraordinarily high demand at the time, and Fancy Pants offered me all the funding I needed, from his own account, plus several donations from certain admirers. Needless to say, I gave it my all—went all out—and the finished product was a lavender-and-gold diamond gown, one hundred-fifty carats, and the finest fabrics of Equestria. They were so impressed with my work—and a little irritated with how much money I used up—they decided to have me keep the dress after the wedding, by request of the cousin.

"But that was the most 'expensive' item in my possession. As for what is the most priceless"— she spread out her fore-hooves and wrapped them round her friends, practically beaming —"I have five of them right here."

"Aw!" the ponies echoed in unison, returning the affection, followed by "I love you girls!" from Pinkie Pie.

"A remarkable bond you all share, I trust," said Serath, lifting his eyebrows.

"And how about you and Corvo?" asked Fluttershy curiously, now with a smile on her face. "What's your bond like?"

"Leveled," said Corvo instantly. He scratched his chin, leaned over on his side, and smirked cordially. "What else could you ask for?"

"Quite so," said Rarity. "Now then," she shot a penetrating glance at Rainbow Dash and smirked sharply, "Rainbow, truth or dare?"

"Dare!" she demanded in a low voice, crossing her arms and falling back onto the couch.

* * *

The group went on like this for another fifty minutes, either daring or asking the most 'daring' questions—it was truth most of the time—and every now and again there would be short breaks to add in jokes, laugh, or roll their eyes in amazement. They were all generally absorbed in the amusement, they even had forgotten about Sombra. When it had reached Corvo the first time, Rainbow Dash dared him to toss his sword in the air and catch it by its razor; most were extremely reluctant to watch when he proceeded, but after accomplishing the feat with relative ease Spike even applauded. Finally the turn fell onto Corvo again, asked by Twilight: "Truth or dare?"

"This time I shall go with truth," he replied.

"I was really hoping to clear this up: what's your opinion on Princess Luna, really? You acted very strangely back in the train, even by your standards." She observed him attentively. "There's a reason for everything, isn't there?"

"Naturally," muttered Corvo. His grim eyes stuck out most of all, like grey candles in the dark. He began to tap a finger on his knee and, as though it took effort, he pulled forth what he had thought in the past; but then the potential power in his voice dwindled, and he shook his head. "She is a capable pony, evidently talented, just like her sister, although what she does is none of my business. I leave it as such."

"Ah'm not too sure," said Applejack suddenly. "Reckon King Sombra is getting a might under yer skin. No need to fret; he's been tormentin' all of us."

"It was never about that," said Corvo, but he stopped, as though remembering something of critical importance.

Serath was staring at Corvo with his head bowed, as though in secret, with tremendous sincerity and a recollection of their conversation in the train. He trusted Corvo; Serath was never once deceived by him and, quite the contrary, Corvo had always managed with subtle gaiety to aid him and his family whenever the moment called for convenience. In that respect, as reasonably as possible, Serath took Corvo's intuition to heart, both from a kind of brotherly loyalty and the fact that Corvo was almost never wrong, and at those rare instances he'd immediately apologize.

With all that said, he truly did recognize a psychological change in Corvo ever since the magic mirror had captured them both at the same time. Alterations in habits are surprisingly common, as Arbmos once told him, but this was different: there was no slope to it, no system—it was like Corvo had merely been hiding something from all of them, or from him.

Now then, we all know quite well that Serath is the only one here who remains in the dark about Corvo's work as the Wandering Stranger, or at the very least, his metal mask. Still, I think it's essential to note the essentials: he had been wary of this possibility ever since he met Corvo, all the way back in the burnt down library; but just like how flash paper vaporizes almost instantaneously when contacted with fire, these 'paranoid' contemplations—they are more needless, not paranoia—would disappear almost as quickly as he took the time to entertain them. In any case, essentially, he was terribly interested in what Corvo had to say.

"Fine then, I'll ask something else," concluded Twilight with a coldly ambitious tone, quite unlike her devilish smirk: "I really am curious in listening to what you—you out of all individuals—has to say on this question: do you believe your moral center was rightfully balanced when conducting the assassination of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna two years ago?"

"Twilight!" Rarity all but shouted. "Wherever did you decide to bring up such provocation in decent company? My, one simply does not do that."

Twilight heaved an annoyed sigh and slumped wearily in her part of the couch. "Well, I heard Corvo and Serath talking about this kind of stuff, and I, you know, I need to know," she concluded defiantly, and then at once rising to full posture. "Serath here already knows about your schemes, and back then, you went with it, all the way to the end. We all know it was wrong of you, but my goal here is to determine if you understand that. Do you, Corvo?"

"Twilight did ask the question, Rarity," said Rainbow Dash passively, but with a calculated gleam in her eye, as if she were anticipating Corvo's response.

The rest of them, including Serath, remained at the ready, silent, that is.

"You want affirmation?" inquired Corvo at length.

"I want the truth," said Twilight in reproach, her lips twitching with vexation. "Please."

"Twilight, I understand your demand. As a detective myself who has been forced to play against these arbitrary rules on an existential level, believe me, you have the right to know whether or not I felt justified in wishing to end the lives of your princesses, and I say 'you' have the right, not your other friends here. I am certain, Twilight, that your interpersonal experience with Celestia constructs the habits with which you use to navigate your life, she is the center of your principles, as it were. I understand that perfectly well, and as someone of imperfect pride, to which only the truths of motivation matter, I would ask the exact same question should I be in your position, not the others, but only you, because it would appear that, considering your princess status, you demand the answer, and your demand at the moment is immeasurably more complex than what could be plausibly described precisely in view of your relationship with Celestia, and maybe even Luna. With all that said: I refuse to tell you."

"What!" Twilight almost gasped, nearly beside herself in an unexpected whiplash of anger. "Why not?"

"What good would it do? The fact of the matter is that you will never know; that's just how it is," Corvo went on with extraordinary determination.

"Do I need to remind you that we're playing Truth or Dare," seethed Twilight, her eyes burning with insistence. "You have to answer the question. Like you said: it's my right to know."

"Yes, I said that. But I now see, with such a heavily stumbled question, it will bring us only an irrelevant disdain. If I reply with: 'Yes, horror struck me at every waking moment', you will proceed to interrogate me with a million different trifles and details; and if I say: 'No, they deserved to meet their end,' well, I can only imagine the fiery derision of which you shall bring down upon me, for the rest of my stay here, which will turn to non-productiveness. In light of this minor revelation, I will not tell you, because you will not let me go on my word, it is impossible!"

"He most likely won't tell me then," remarked Serath gloomily, "because I would tell you if you asked me," he turned to Twilight almost with pity.

"Yeah, fine," scoffed Twilight disappointingly. "I'm willing to bet you felt bad all along, and you're having a pretty difficult time coming to terms with it, or to even admit it. Princess Celestia herself recognized your intelligence. That accounts for something good."

"Eh? What is that supposed to mean?" said Corvo with greedy, almost hysterical, curiosity. He at once lost any trace of reserve and even asked the question with a sort of imperiousness.

"Princess Celestia is the wisest and most knowledgeable ruler in the entire world," Twilight practically recited as though it were an obvious fact, "and she's done an incredible job at it, everypony loves her. Going off of that, if she herself admits to your intellect, and you both are fighting the same fight side-by-side, you must have some decency in you, the least bit of empathy."

Corvo stared at her with confused, guarding eyes, but immediately laughed softly to himself and a tremble seized him. "No, no, that is not it," he said. "I must have decency because you acknowledge my academic worth?"

"It's quite true actually," put in Rarity, inclining her head to Twilight. "The backbone of Equestria is built upon the wisdom of Princess Celestia, Luna, Cadence, Shining Armor, and now Twilight as the Princess of Friendship, all of whom know more than your average pony, and all of whom act in the best interest of Equestria."

"Our leaders gotta know what they're doing after all," said Pinkie Pie, shrugging.

"This is nothing but tortured logic," Corvo broke off suddenly. "There is no connection whatsoever between one's degree of intelligence and their capacity for kindness. The two are entirely different. Take a look at Sombra if you seek a counter-example."

"You can't compare King Sombra," said Twilight briskly, as though not observing Corvo's excitement. "He's a dark force who's been at Princess Celestia's throat for over a thousand years. If every single pony native to Equestria were as gifted as you or Serath or the princesses—"

"I am flattered by your inclusion of me," said Serath.

"Of course, Serath, but I mean it," said Twilight, taking a second to happily acknowledge him, but then continued firmly: "The point is: the more we discover and learn, the more we can help Equestria, it's a definite correlation. I really wasn't looking forward to praising you or anything"— and, giving Corvo a piercing, even sad, look, she concluded —"you did it out of love for your own world, which is something."

"Love does not necessarily mean a positive concept. Love is merely an intense affection for a particular thing," said Corvo quickly.

"But my point still stands."

The ponies and Spike generally stood on agreement, if only out of bias due to it being Twilight saying these things. And Serath himself listened intently, understanding in full Corvo's position on the matter.

"Nothing but sheer falsehood, that's what," said Corvo after a long pause, dropping his head affectedly, at first only, and when he looked up again his grey eyes flashed an askance gleam. "Yes, I disagree. I absolutely cannot understand the notion that intellectuals are characterized by intrinsic moral superiority: 'he is intelligent, therefore he must leap to the defense of what is right'—there is no evidence for that. Smartness (I say 'smartness' very crudely) and moral wisdom are not the same thing; and your empirical evidence is severely flawed in every possible manner. It is the corrupt and smart ones by your side who are the most treacherous... that is my confession, if you can even call it a confession. Evil's subtlest semblance is not with the ugly, but the beautiful and hopeful. And as an intelligent yet corrupt individual: you're twenty serpents instead of two. Ah," his eyes lit up suddenly, "let me lay down a small story, a rather absurd little anecdote, but genuine nonetheless, and I will be brief.

"One time I had to interrogate an old widow relating to the unexpected murder of an aristocratic general. She had been an eye-witness the night of the crime, had claimed to have seen the crime from a rooftop about four blocks down. I shall get to the conclusion of the murder, but first let me tell you: this lady was completely bedraggled. She looked to have been living straight in the dumps her whole life, wearing messy clothes, a crazed look of sorrow; she was so shy that she could not even approach you normally; she shielded her eyes from me as though I were as luminous as the sun itself; and on the street she did that to everyone, bent down, dragging round a wooden cane sometimes, humbled over like a peasant brought before a king. The sight was utterly pathetic to most, and, you know, I'm no psychologist, but my take of it was that she seemed to almost be in a state of quiet delirium most of the time, or all of the time. When I spoke with this women one thing became apparent: she was not bright, not in the least. I think she only had a child's level of education. This old woman was quite intellectually impaired. She lived with her schizophrenic sister, who happened to be in a fever at the time, and a drunkard fiancé who was quite fond of brewed Spirit and beat her every week to a pulp. My witness lived in absolute hell. And what could she do? The woman was dull in the head! But she had this dog, my witness, that is. She used to walk the dog all the time, about twice a day even. I later learned that she went to a behavioural therapy clinic—a clinic well-known in Dunwall, my city—but not just to deal with her own issues which tormented her; but partly she would venture to a Dunwall mental ward, and she had been a patient at that hospital for who knows how long. She went on to meet these long-term psychiatric clients, and damn, those lot looked to be the lunatics straight out of a horror novel. These folk were... I mean, they were far too deep in the abyss, far worse off than a mere fever. These clients about which I had learned were seriously destroyed on a most psychological level. Naturally they could not be let back out onto the streets during the institutionalization, they were life-chained in there. And the woman decided that the reason she had wanted to venture into this hospital—of all places, mind you—was because she herself had been institutionalized there, which brought altogether a feeling of familiarity; and as such, if she could take her dog out for a walk, she wished to take out one of the inmates and have him go on a walk with her, too. What else may I say about her? Stupid as a post... utterly daft... just disturbed in a dozen different directions. There was nothing she could hold on to, nothing going her way, no ambitions, sacked with prejudice from everyone else. And yet she had the damned moral capacity to decide that there was someone else worse off than her, and take my word for it, that was not easy to find. Maybe she could have done them some good if the ward had let her—which they did not."

He, at last, lapsed into an abrupt silence, and blinked hard at the rest of the ponies.

"Maybe I understand where you're coming from, but—er, I don't know," said Twilight uneasily. "And what about the conclusion to your story?"

"We found the killer's dead body washed up on shore."

Wait, I recognize this story: the 'Self-Loathing Poseidon', the case was dubbed. Why is Corvo not bringing up the Wandering Stranger, if he is the one who likely ended the murderer's life? thought Serath. Hmm, well, I suppose it is for the best, it would only usher forth a whole new echelon of fear.

Corvo was going to say something else, but the scene came to a sudden halt as a particular individual they had seemingly forgotten about made himself known, almost mechanically even.

"My dear friends, you're still here!" announced Discord from behind them. They all turned their heads and saw the door leading to the room with the ladder slam open; Discord wandered in casually. He wore small reading glasses and stroked his white beard with a paw.

"I didn't even notice that you were gone, Discord," said Fluttershy in surprise.

"Yes, yes, don't mind me," Discord shot out. He switched his eyes from the ponies, Corvo, and the room he came from. "You see, Corvo, I overheard your little comment about the basement, how it's too dark down there and whatnot. I decided to check it out, and suffice to say"— he stuck his tongue out in disgust, swung round on a single leg and collapsed on the ground —"boring! Nothing there but old books weighing more than Celestia's morning desserts, and worst of all: it's completely unreadable! That settles it: I, Discord the magnificent Lord of Chaos, shall meet his end." He threw his arms in the air and shouted indignantly: "Curse you Monday mornings!"

"Did you place some torches below?" inquired Serath.

"With a snap of my claw," said Discord, smiling crookedly.

"Well, this is my cue to get up and weave to it!" said Corvo. He jumped up and nearly jogged over to the smaller room. Serath was correct: there were newly-placed torches along the wooden beams, identical to the ones in Canterlot. "You see, I have been meaning to read what is down there."

"Didn't you just hear me?" said Discord frantically, staring at Corvo intently but somehow solemnly. "Those books may as well contain impossible-to-decipher gibberish."

"My cup of tea, practically," reproached Corvo, almost trembling. He only now realized just how cold he was, and quickly buttoned up his greatcoat.

"Well then, this might prove to be interesting after all," said Discord. "Perhaps I may, ahem, accompany you?"

"Do what you'd like," said Corvo, gesturing with his arm. "Serath, what about you?"

"Inform me of any specificities," said Serath. "For now I think I will stay here."

"Wait!" called Pinkie readily. "We weren't done with the game. It's your turn, remember!"

"Oh, uh, Applejack," began Corvo, already halfway through the ladder, "truth or dare?"

"Dare, Ah 'spose," confirmed Applejack, quite uncertain given their distance.

"I dare you to recount the history of the apple farm, in as much detail as feasibly possible, from start to finish." And he sunk down into the narrow and dreary basement, followed closely by Discord. The last thing he heard were the intense groans of agitation from the other ponies, Applejack chuckling, Serath saying: "Make sure to include the events before the farm's inception—I would love to know as much as possible," and Rainbow Dash crying: "No, don't do this to us!"

* * *

During this particular juncture I'll assume you must be at the edge of your seat to learn what Celestia and Luna were discussing. Or, perhaps, if you're not "at the edge of your seat" then, barring my inadequacy as narrator, I hope to shed some light here in greater fashion, beyond convention and what have you.

The small room they took hold in was, as previously mentioned, completely empty, with not even a window for style or practicality. Yet it was quiet and muffled most of the neighboring voices. There was a hefty sum of information the sisters needed to slice through, as these things go, of which I shall recount below.

A handful of minutes past midnight they walked back into the room, silent as stones at first, and at last Celestia began: "Corvo was acting very strangely back in the train, mostly towards you. I'm wondering why exactly."

"Normally I'd chalk this up to stress, but perhaps what goes on in his head is a different breed of hostility," said Luna as though with contempt, but this was not the case. "I get the impression that he holds very coherent and deliberately directed thoughts, but they sway mere inches from his understanding."

"Whatever the reason, he did inform me of something I think you'd wish to hear."

"Oh?"

Celestia held a hard stare at Luna, like something of extensive bitterness swept through her mind. "He thinks you might be working with King Sombra, that you're helping him spread this destructive smoke across Equestria."

"Are you serious?" exclaimed Luna in reproach, giving her sister an inquisitive look. "Does he truly doubt my resistance to mind control?"

"I believe he does," sighed Celestia with frivolity. "I didn't believe him, I would have caught on to mind control, but more importantly, if King Sombra is capable of influencing you with his dark magic—I'd imagine back in the illusion, when Corvo showed up—I'm just as susceptible. Even so, I do wonder what you'd do if you were under King Sombra's command."

"Whatever he tells me to do," said Luna, a certain look of caustic indignation flashing on her face; it was quite a different look from the one she had when she entered the room mere moments ago. "But to be frank, does he expect me to prattle? I'm not entirely surprised, Tia, with Corvo's speculation, given the nature of his visit two years back. I do, however, admit that he might be on to something."

"On to something, you say?" repeated Celestia abruptly, nearing a degree of solemn perplexity.

"Don't worry about me, Tia," put in Luna with a fleeting laugh. "Betraying my friends and, most important, my beloved sister—that does not hold a special spot on my schedule. I very much rather not go back to such a time. Still, Corvo's supposition of me helping King Sombra isn't entirely unfounded. He's on to something alright, just misguided." And right away an expression of rigorous annoyance burned into her dark eyes. "Ah, what a waste of time!"

"Indeed it is," observed Celestia. "But maybe you could elaborate on what you mean by his supposition. I suspect Corvo is letting King Sombra get under his skin. He managed to converse with him back in Vanhoover, by the way, but I can't possibly gauge the accuracy of Corvo's retelling of what they talked about is. King Sombra's words are like a poison: he'll get you to believe in something that will, in the long run, consume your sanity."

"Yes, yes, I get your meaning. Now then... you see," she bit her lip almost with timidity, "I do believe that King Sombra is greater than the sum of his own self. That's to imply that he isn't alone in this, if Tall Tale was indicative of that. There was also that petty guard—Alloy Spark—and so on. With all being said, when you recall my rather, er, unfortunate history with Equestria, to an outsider such as himself suspicion would be the obvious path to take, and I say this, Tia, out of the most unbiased and generous analysis I can muster."

"I still don't understand, Luna."

"What I want you to keep in mind is that Corvo distrusts me for a very specific reason. Not you, definitely, and perhaps not the ponies or Spike, although I'm still not quite prepared to make such a claim just yet, and his friend Serath... ah, those two share an unusual common ground."

"This is all baseless," hurried Celestia in a weak voice, as though she were starting to become frustrated with herself. "Corvo's assertions, I mean, they're baseless, but if I take your word for it, Luna, maybe he really is latching on to something else."

"Yes, but first things first: we ought to get it through to him that I have no connection with King Sombra at the present time. Then, you and I proceed to work out his reasoning for his wariness, in what way does he presume that I have been puppeted by King Sombra, and then maybe, just maybe..."

"We can potentially save many more of our subjects," laid out Celestia with an extreme tenderness, resting her full attention on her sister with shining eyes. A pale smile curved on her soothing lips, one with a certain line of the utmost sincerity. "I really am glad that you're by my side, Luna. It's the best I could ask for."

"Tia, please, reserve your sentimental side for the after-party," chuckled Luna. "In any regard, I'm strangely curious in Serath also."

"Well, we've established that fact already, didn't we?"

"I know, but there's so much more we can learn from him, and him from us, and he seems more than willing to lend us his mutual trust and respect. And it positively baffles me how someone like Serath could befriend someone like Corvo. On the surface they may share similarities, but their character—now that's night and day, with a certain exception."

"Well said, Luna. Once we defeat King Sombra we'll have the opportunity," Celestia resolved confidently. "Let's go back, we should join up with Corvo and the others."

"Again, you say?" Luna smirked sardonically. "Ha, yes, it'd be appropriate. We should be instructing the others on our next course of action. You mentioned very little so far."

"Most of it you could probably guess," stated Celestia breathlessly. "First: make sure we can gather all that we may for a second journey; then... well, you see, I've been meaning to find Shining Armor and Princess Cadence again, and I really do think they're searching for us, all the way north. But things aren't moving fast enough," she spoke faster now, "which means we have to be absolutely certain that everypony is on the same page with us. Are you coming, Luna? Hmm, Luna?"

"I'm just pondering on what to do, it's nothing really," said Luna, seizing herself at once to make a move and jogged out the door, faster than her sister.

The two alicorn sisters joined back with the rest, a little after Corvo had taken off with Discord to the ambiguous basement. The general conversation in the primary room hung on boredom, with a particular topic sparking up every once in a while only to be inconveniently ignored by the rest of our heroes, replaced by vain waiting, and this occurred suddenly, irritably even. The hours weighed down, pointlessly revealing the slowness of time, dragging their potential excitement to a near-absolute halt. It was still a bit before one o'clock in the morning, and when Celestia and Luna came back to the ponies, while momentarily pleased, still puffed away the frustration of standing by. As is such, Serath asked what their next course of action should be, with an air of humbleness to himself, although even he suggested a handful of possibilities he "had time to entertain," as he worded it. Celestia was quick to point out their unusual unproductiveness, only in the beginning, which she used as a sort of lift off to encourage the ponies and Serath to listen up with consideration: they were to remain on the move. When Twilight asked if there was any other way, Celestia threw in the tunnel systems as previously mentioned in the story, and at last revealed this is what she had in store for them.

Each city and town had its own tunnel system, built very securely by the most talented engineers, all connecting to one another out of shared convenience. This spacious and old house in the west—that was merely for common restoration. They had the Crystal Heart now, and so it was a matter of bringing it back to the Crystal Empire. Not even King Sombra could have considered such an oddity.

This has, of course, all been noted in passing.

* * *

"One moment, and... eh, are you sure there's enough room down here?" said Corvo. The four or five torches held up to the creaking walls lit his pale face, revealing the thick swarm of floating dust in the air. He sat down at the very end of the basement, as though he were backing away from excessive discomfort. He rested his attention on the impressive stacks of books—rather, the numerous tombs, most of which leant inwardly against one another, pressing downwards on many of the shelves, scattering planks and pages along the floor.

"Don't worry about me," said Discord, grinning affably but with notable difficulty. The majority of his long body slid into the narrow underground, with the occasional accidental bump along the weakened shelves and piles of books; only his feathery tail stuck out into the above room, although he largely ignored the awkwardness of this position and stared curiously at Corvo, who then grabbed onto an impossibly heavy tomb and slowly sank it down to the floor; clusters of dust sprayed onto his coat.

"I must say, I never quite expected you to take such an interest in this stuff," Discord went on with genuine inquisitiveness. His yellow and greedy eyes bulged out in dubious anticipation, encouraging his own supercilious composure.

"These paper-weights hidden away in an unknown sanctuary—sounds oddly poetic," Corvo articulated with animated eyes, scanning the book before him with a certain impatience almost. "Let me see here," he opened the cover and flipped through the first dozen or so pages, "what are these letters supposed to represent? You see here, the big ones?—well, some dried-up ink is going off to the side here."

"I can maybe understand Middle Equestrian, which dates back a thousand years ago," Discord explained thoughtfully. "These letters, though, they're older than that. Try two thousand years. And what is it, those big letters? Let me have a look!" He shot forth and his head hovered over Corvo's shoulders. "Dan Spake... something, something... Old Unro Tunzan?" His face at once looked anxious.

"I guess 'spake' translates to speak," said Corvo, "and I know what 'old' is."

Corvo stuck his fingers into the book and sluggishly turned half the thing open. They were met with an impenetrable wall of text.

"This leads us nowhere," Corvo decided after rapidly scanning the oily and enigmatic letters, a few lines at first, but then he began to skim. "Notice the page-breaker. There's one every ten or—maybe fifteen pagers, and there are twenty here."

"What kind of mad pony would write twenty-page paragraphs!" cried Discord with sudden animation. But something of an unusual nature caught hold of him; he cast his eyes intensely at the pages again and heaved a perturbed sigh. "Ah, pish-posh, this really is the oldest form of Equestrian dialect. But even so," he hummed thoughtfully, "these obviously belong to Princess Celestia, I believe she stored them away here. I never took her for a linguist."

"I suspect the breakers are the start of new chapters. And maybe not chapters, but related yet separate pieces of text." He again flipped back many more pages.

"Well, would you look at that," said Discord suddenly, pointing significantly to a picture which had appeared. It looked to be a calculated tower of intricate circles and squares, drawn with horribly hard lines and gloomy brush strokes, overlapped by writings far too different to be that of the original text, writings with those same tough lines that could be discerned as somehow forbidden, angry even; but these lines seemed to have leaked down and, as a result, been smudged a long time ago. The next page revealed another shape, a single circle, a shaded point in the middle, and a chain of words expanding out to the very corners of the stained paper. This one was much lighter and easier on the eyes.

"Illustrations," remarked Corvo resolutely, as though he had finally reached a certain edge of satisfaction with this discovery.

"I'm getting some bad vibes about this," said Discord, his face now more serious. "These are magical signs, but those are unbelievably outdated. Tell me, Corvo, if you will: just how familiar are you with Equestrian magic? I'd really like to know."

"Not enough," he sighed in response. "The history books were horribly vague."

"Books or not, this one here certainly is shy about sharing its information with us. I don't understand the writing—the vast majority of this—and I'm thousands of years old."

His ears perked, he leaned in closer, now dancing his eyes from word to word, trying his best to carry some meaning out of each individual letter, and with each passing second it was as if a greater comprehension made itself more visible. His focus was solely based on reconnecting two objective facts he happened to be familiar with.

"I see now," he said in a whispering voice, "paragraphs were only introduced into Equestria's literary history about four thousand years ago, even before Star Swirl the Beaded, considering his scrolls used indentations. Er," he face scrunched up in perplexed reflection, "so... I guess you could say that these might be the first uses of magic."

"Ever?"

"Well, when you say it like that, it really ought to put things into perspective," said Discord, grinning.

Corvo's determination erupted with rapid-fire page flips, swiping his fingers along certain lines, only to bring his attention back to those ancient illustrations.

"Hold on!" interposed Discord in surprise. "Perhaps it's best to not jump to conclusions just yet. I actually have no idea if these are the first uses of magic. But a good guess nonetheless could bring us somewhere, wouldn't you agree?"

"Tell me something, Discord, these signs—can you perform them, or interact with them in such a way?"

"Perform!" guffawed Discord, now looking at the book with distaste. "What ever do you take me for, Corvo? This Spirit of Chaos upholds his own standards. This magic is too shabby for me."

"It might draw us something, or somewhere," he insisted. "Come now, Discord, heels up!"

Discord frowned and took a closer inspection. Something was twitching in him, inspiring in his own sense of curiosity a step of wariness. "Wait a minute," he declared sharply, and twisting his neck he gazed up at the rest of the books, and proceeded to levitate a select tomb from its creaking shelf and placed it in between him and Corvo. The latter took to a position of observing what he was up to.

Discord flipped through numerous pages until he landed on more illustrations: these broke off at a rip in the page, but nevertheless represented in its own artistic surface a feeling of regret, of which they could not explain right away.

"Right here," said Corvo with an almost unrestrained animation in his voice. "Notice the intricate circle, round the edges—the small flowers and numerals painted—the streaks of sentences are shooting out from its center again. What are we catching up to exactly?"

"Mm—something I'd rather not bother with," Discord admitted in a long, tired voice. "The only thing I could possibly bring up, going by these pictures, are the different styles. If you notice, one is menacing and dreary, and the other? Oh, completely calculated and a bit organized—I'm talking about the circles with that last one."

Corvo was silent, staring almost blankly at the pictures and words, and in a faltering voice he said: "We must not waste time. Do you hear me? Tell me you do."

"What are you hoping to extract from this nonsense?" questioned Discord doubtfully, raising an eyebrow, as if about to leave.

"There is one fact, one very convenient fact, which I feel strongly in its contexts," said Corvo, with an expression on his face that Discord had never seen before, an expression of adamant and frank emotion. He spoke decidedly and somehow indirectly. "Magic is, for all intents and purposes, a web of interactions. The reason for Sombra's return was my mere presence two years ago: my magic reacted wildly with his dark magic, initiating a strain which rose him from his burial in the ice. The longer magic goes without interaction, the greater its sensitivity. This is what I aim for: if we decipher the magic in these books, which has been cold for thousands of years—supposedly—we may create the correct stream that should lead us to Sombra. Do you follow?"

"You're trying to go after King Sombra!" exclaimed Discord in animation, his whole face becoming distorted. "Did you forget who he is? I'd have a better time performing stand-up comedy at the Gala than track him down."

"Show some effort," said Corvo imperiously, as though trying to provoke a response from Discord. "Eh, do you not have a 'deciphering' spell of some kind? Anything works, really! Our time is short."

Discord wanted to say something, but his source for words remained hollowed by a rather strong consideration for these books, and even Corvo, whom he grew faint about. There was very little time, this was true, and he found himself in a contradiction of both wishing to inform the princesses and staying put; his eyes stuck on the cryptic wildness of the cryptic drawings. Something here seemed to be in reverse, quite unnatural.

A moment of regret rang in his whole body, but at last he huffed in grumpy tones and lifted a claw. "Fine, give me just a second—but if things turn sour, I refuse to take the blame!"

"Right, right!" Corvo ardently agreed. "But keep to confidentiality."

"Huh?" Discord looked at him unusually. "So you don't intend to tell Princess Celestia what you're up to? My, my, and here I took you for a proper teammate."

"I try to be decent."

"You owe me for this," deadpanned Discord. He channeled his magic, as hastily as he could, and deliberately poked the paper ten times, as though he were impatiently knocking on a door, each tap causing ripples. His chaos magic was stiff at the moment, unable to arouse even the smallest reaction with the older-than-dirt inscriptions. He at once took this for a weak link. His own magic could not create a reaction. He guessed if the book itself might have been chaos magic.

But then the letters started to vibrate, almost ready to bounce off the pages; they started to rearrange themselves, but to their disappointment when it stopped the words were still incomprehensible. Or so Corvo assumed.

A happy grin swept across Discord's face. "Ha, take that!" he cried.

"What is it?"

"I can read these now. I couldn't before. It appears these tombs hold a very weak bond with chaos. A pity indeed." He went on to scan the pages and flip back and forth between the illustrations. "That took quite a bit out of me, believe it or not, but it reads here: White Light magic. And on the circle, the one shooting out these lines, it says: Black Light magic. Light and black—ah-ha, the oldest forms of sight, and the oldest forms of magic. I was right all along!" he ended triumphantly.

"This is strange indeed," said Corvo. "You stated that it 'took quite a bit' out of you, so we must stop with the chaos magic. It must be accustomed to chaos magic, that is. How about a sample of my own..." he lit up his Mark, and the results were immediate.

The tomb jumped, its pages flitting back and forth at a blinding rate; the black letters burned with a blue glow, some disappearing and reappearing at random. Corvo struggled to hold it down, and Discord's magic showed no signs of influence over the book.

When the Mark on his hand deactivated the tomb went limp. Both Discord and Corvo exchanges wild looks, and the latter quickly flipped back to the illustrations, while on the way noticing about a third of the pages were now blank.

"I understand now," he said in the highest degree of excitement. "Your magic, Discord—it's Equestrian, and so is this book; my magic is foreign, from another world altogether." He chuckled coolly to himself and rose to his feet. "But dark magic is unique as well. Sombra spent two years in my world, close to me; his magic is practically intertwined with the Outsider's magic, or my own Mark. But this old brick?" He gestured to the first book, suddenly ripped off the two pages with the illustrations, and almost unconsciously stuffed them into his inner-pocket. "We can use this kind of thing to follow Sombra's trail of dark magic. Can you do that?"

"I can," Discord drawled out slowly, almost inaudibly. He still wasn't sure about this and remained in an internal debate with himself. "But will I? That's a whole other question."

"Why are you scared?" asked Corvo, as if suspecting Discord of untold embarrassment.

"Scared? Pfft, come now, Corvo, you know as well as anyone what dangers King Sombra represents at the moment." He's almost as strong as Tirek now.

"He has gotten stronger, I know."

"Listen up, Corvo, because this is important," said Discord urgently, frowning all the same: "ever since Sombra returned to his former self his power has grown exponentially. In fact, I'd wager it'd take the combined force of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna to just be on par with his magic—but," he put strain on these words, "the more this blasted smoke spreads across Equestria, the stronger he becomes. There's a reason I used the term 'exponential' after all."

"The Crystal Heart can still defeat him."

"An impossible task!" Discord turned round and crossed his arms stubbornly. "Yes, it's true: using your magic, that of the Outsider," he ground his teeth at the name, "I can sense magical imbalances. But to seriously go after him, King Sombra? It'd be a suicide mission!"

"Discord, it is in my best interest to help you and your friends—my pleasure, in fact," said Corvo affably, leaning against the wall a little. His affability took Discord completely by surprise. "But there is not much else we can do, now is there? We are still on the run, and sooner than later, Sombra shall destroy Equestria and kill all of us."

Discord looked down and thought for a moment.

"But what's your goal, the end-game?" he shot out indignantly. "Surely you must have one. Find Sombra and then: what?"

"I simply do not want Celestia or Luna involved, that's what," said Corvo in a gloomy voice. "All I need is a final confrontation with Sombra, just one, that is all, and you must help me."

Corvo spoke each word with heart. It was at this moment where everything came together in his mind; this decision to leave unnoticed was the product of all the pieces he had managed to gather grounded on the center of his own rationale, and he was confident in it. He had already heard about Celestia's plan to travel back through Equestria underground, where the smoke could not touch them; he had gone back and forth dozens of times on Luna's words and actions as of recent, and their prospects, as well as his interpretations of them, no matter how much Celestia disapproved. He had a very clear—in fact, an all too clear—scheme in mind, but one he couldn't reveal, not just yet.

This was the so-called expected deduction mentioned earlier.

At last Discord decided: "Ugh, fine then! I'll go with you. But don't get the wrong idea, Corvo. I'm going because I want to; this place is awfully boring, I can't stand it! While it might not fit my position"— a sly smirk flashed on his sharp lips —"I might get something out of this. Very well, on we go! Hmm, what's the matter? Are you feeling improper now?"

"No. Just thinking: why languish any longer, why wait?" said Corvo in a deep voice. He sighed and shook his face amusingly. "Come, let's go join the others. I hear Celestia talking now."

He climbed the ladder back up, with Discord close behind, right to the primary room.

* * *

"Princess Celestia?" said Twilight softly, trying her hardest to smile.

"Yes, Twilight?" came Celestia's response, exchanging glances of concern. "Tell me whatever you want."

Twilight momentarily dropped her eyes and bit her lip. She didn't know how to phrase it properly, most likely because she never thought she would have to say it, but at last she murmured carefully to her mentor, as to make sure know one caught on: "I'm starting to feel sorry for Serath."

"Are you now?" said Celestia. She looked searchingly at Twilight, as though she were pleased with something.

"Just look at him, princess," said Twilight again uneasily, thinking to herself there was something yet to be discussed.

She was right. Serath was not behaving very comfortably. At times he would talk continuously, almost loudly and laughing, sharing whatever stories he could and even explain, though he knew the ponies didn't understand everything, his research on medicine. It was this relentless openness that made Spike almost admire him, as it were, getting him to listen to all of his dragon-related stories and always went on to ask Serath the biggest questions he could think up of: what rhymes with 'orange', how to pretend to sleep more convincingly, how antibodies worked, not-so-subtle romance advice, and so on and so forth. But then there were those times when the situation dawned on Serath, forced him to take exceptional notice of what had occurred in the past two days; it was at these moments when a grey shadow would appear over his face, and he would suddenly go quiet and sit by himself, or fidget uncontrollably. And when asked what was wrong, he either replied with a sad shrug or he dissolved into a strange laughter.

His company was most appreciated, there's no doubt there; but even so he somehow felt bad for talking about himself, and always preferred to strike up conversations concerning Equestria and the ponies.

"It isn't right to have him stay here," Twilight went on. "It's fun to have him around, but he also has a family waiting for him. And he reminds me nothing about Corvo, except for looks," she suddenly exclaimed thoughtfully. "That isn't bad, is it, princess, to look at him this way? I really do hope he manages to return to his world in the end."

"Nicely rounded off," said Celestia, looking intently at Twilight with a quiet and searching smile. "You've proven yourself to be made of great empathy, and it shows. Think what you feel is right. I won't stop you."

"I understand, princess," said Twilight somehow more firmly than before. "We've always tried to same everypony, and any newcomer should be welcomed. Hey, I know," she added hopefully, "maybe we can invite Serath over some time to talk about the magic of friendship, and princess, you could join us, and we'd get along better. That's a much better time to share what we have in common than being plopped right in the middle of Equestria's demise. Would you approve?"

Celestia laughed weakly and leaned back on her seat, leaning just a bit closer to Twilight than before. "Of course I'd approve, Twilight." But a suggestive worry crossed her face. "Though, and pardon my intrusion, don't you think you're all too readily thinking about this stuff? I believe only Pinkie Pie would plan a get-together so soon."

"Oh, right, sorry!" said Twilight with a flushed face, laughing nervously and resumed staring at Serath from across the room. He took notice of her staring and threw in a polite wave. She waved back, but at once an overwhelming amount of pity struck her. "I really hope he'll be alright."

"Hmm?" Celestia looked back to Twilight.

"That reminds me!" exclaimed Twilight familiarly, yet smiling sheepishly at her princess. "I asked him to see the picture of his family he mentioned, though I never got the chance."

It was at this time that both Corvo and Discord revealed themselves from the room with the two chairs. Corvo wandered in with long, far-reaching strides, his face highlighted with something mysterious, as though he were deep in thought and wished not to be disturbed. Discord didn't have much else to say, merely announced himself but otherwise stood still near the corner, with a horribly ironic grin plastered on his long face.

"Twilight and her friends told me where you two went," said Luna the moment she saw them walk in, as though she expected them to arrive at this. Her voice suggested a lingering curiosity. "Down in the books?"

"Yes, reading books," said Corvo.

"Very big books," claimed Discord with a feverish gleam in his sententious eyes.

"I'm not expecting you to have found anything," said Celestia, shifting her now-compassionate focus to Corvo. "Those books are remarkably old."

"The dust gives it away," muttered Corvo. "Or even the creaky shelves." He sat on the floor besides the hearth and eventually started to tap his foot. He couldn't leave, not yet; he needed an excuse most of all, and this became apparent very quickly as he noticed Celestia and Luna whispering to each other and eyeing him.

"But did you?" came Celestia's inquiry suddenly.

What can I say here? thought Corvo. Would she expect anything, or know that I know, or... "No, the letters are too scrambled."

"I thought so," said Celestia, tones of surprise disappointment ringing in her voice.

"Perhaps we should inform Corvo of our next step," suggested Rarity.

"Let's go now then!" said Rainbow Dash fervently. She flew up to stretch her wings after being on the couch for so long. "I'm getting real sick of be cramped up in here for so long. This pony needs some space!"

"Rainbow Dash, the princess already told ya to stay indoors," said Applejack in reproach, but she too seemed to be out of it. "Ah shoot, we gotta stick together, 'n' it means hidin' 'neath our tails like a bunch of scaredy ponies. Darn it!"

"Don't worry, Applejack, we'll be back in Ponyville before we know it," interjected Fluttershy softly. She tapped her friend on the back; Applejack nodded in response.

"Ah'm fine, Fluttershy. Honest."

"I, uh, think I agree with Rainbow Dash on this one," said Pinkie Pie with a solemn look on her face. She slumped off the couch onto the floor and heaved a sigh. "It gets really lame after a while... and I miss Sugarcube Corner already!"

"I agree with the general consensus," remarked Luna, her voice clear and thick. "Any further dwelling in these ruins would be nothing short of redundant. We must make our way through the tunnels and meet back with Princess Cadence."

"Allow me a minute to myself," announced Corvo suddenly. He rose to his feet at once and strode across the room to the front door. This instant change in action nearly caught Celestia by surprise.

"Hold on," she called back dubiously, "I thought we'd agree to stay indoors until everypony else leaves." Her expression changed into something of a haughty look, staring at Corvo with enough doubt as to be passed off as mockery. "For all I know one of King Sombra's minions might attack when you're alone, eliminating a powerful opponent. You won't stand a chance, I'm afraid." But this 'expression of mockery' was very clearly an act, Corvo assumed.

"I will only be a minute, right by the porch here," he replied absentmindedly.

And before there could be any further protest he walked outside and swung the door closed. There was now a momentary silence, only then broken by Discord: "We really should act quickly, Celestia dear. Who knows what King Sombra might be hatching, right now, this very moment!" A large rubber band flashed into existence before him; it started to pull itself apart. "The tension, it's so astonishing, ready to snap"— the band broke loudly and vanished —"at any time. Just say the word and we'll be off."

"We'll be off soon, Discord," said Celestia. "There's still a hoof-full of hours till I'm meant to raise the sun. With the ability to navigate the tunnels via teleportation, this should all be over soon."

"If King Sombra doesn't catch us first," Discord objected glumly. He started pacing back and forth round the room—rather, floating back and forth—with a hard, centered expression on his weary countenance. He added in an undertone: "He's far too powerful now."

"We'll make it," said Celestia smoothly with a small smile. "The nearest train station is close to White Tail Woods, about half an hour off East by train ride—if we ride fast. We'll start heading back to the train."

The door opened and Corvo walked in.

"Like I said: a mere minute," he remarked, but still bore a solemn look.

"Corvo, we are to trek back to the train," said Serath before anyone else could.

"What were you doing out there?" asked Twilight, raising an eyebrow.

"Gazing at the field," said Corvo. "It's rather eerie out there, the night sky is exceptionally dark."

"Uh-huh," said Twilight in confusion, but otherwise thought nothing of it.

"Back to the train, you say, Serath?" went on Corvo in a monotonous voice, his words each contrasted with the other, as though he spoke them with a sparse individuality. "Eh, it makes sense to bring the Crystal Heart back—we would have to eventually, isn't that right?"

"Right," said Celestia matter-of-factly.

"We better start going then," said Luna distinctly. She beckoned to the six ponies and Spike; they all looked to one another, displaying different shades of either assurance or confusion, and one by one were led outside with Luna waiting. Corvo moved about the room almost mechanically, as though his steps were premeditated; he halted in front of Discord, said: "I want to grab another page from those books, to see to something, is all," and Discord followed him back to the smaller room, glancing mysteriously and even sardonically at Celestia.

As for Princess Celestia herself, sweat began sweeping down her temples. She took several deep breaths. The air grew colder and harder to stay still. Her heart had been pounding violently the entire train ride here, ever since they had set their eyes upon the smoke in the Crystal Empire. But she needed to keep calm and think clearly. She cared too much for her ponies to panic, considering what they were about to do, and the uncertainty of it all. She summoned all the strength she could to conserve any and all possible will. She believed in them, in herself.

To note elsewhere, Corvo was right concerning the eeriness of the outdoors. The fields were wide and expansive, with not a tree in sight save for the hedge lines in the distance. The sky was a colossal black mass, devoid of brightness, cold and unmoving; the world here was halfway into an abyss, it seemed. It was as if the night ensured a dead silence among nature. It struck out almost painfully to the ponies how far out they really were, and every now and again they would look over their shoulders as though an intruder were about to strike. The darkness and the lack of sound, with the exception of their loud breaths—this is what glued them together in an instance. Only Luna stood a bit out, using her horn to lead them.

"We're going now," said Celestia irritably, but with concern in her voice. "I can hardly see my sister and the others, only a faint light..." she peeked outside and strained her eyes.

"Half a minute!" cried Corvo from within. "Less, even."

"And why is Discord with you?" Celestia now started to grow restless. "We need to catch up to Princess Luna."

There was no response this time.

"Corvo, are you done yet?" Celestia wandered into the smaller room, her breath now becoming visible. The torches were put out. She lit her horn and stared into the basement below. The light cast hard shadows against the piles of tombs, the crooked shelves, and the depressions within the stone walls; but that was it. They were gone.

Chapter 7: Contradictions

"So... how far off is the train again?" inquired Pinkie Pie, almost beside herself with weariness.

"The same distance as our walk from there to here, Pinkie Pie," said Luna. "Around fifteen minutes, give or take." And then she added in an expansive voice, deliberately aimed with the utmost sincerity: "I trust you all must be wreathed with fear. No need to worry, my friends. We'll make it back safely. As long as I'm here..."

The golden blast of a teleportation flashed before them in an instant; standing there was Princess Celestia, her eyes cold and uncomfortable. She quickly closed the gap between them.

"My, were we really walking that fast, Tia?" said Luna in surprise.

"Corvo is gone," announced Celestia with apprehensive ardency. "Discord too. They must have taken off back in the shelter."

Exclamations arose all round.

"What do you mean they're gone?" asked Luna, not quite willing to catch the drift of her sister's exclamations. A nervous shadow swept over her face.

"What!" Twilight enunciated, jumping forth between the sisters, her eyes flashing with a terrible agitation. "No, no, no! Corvo left? As in: he's disappeared? Completely gone, like—poof?—just like that?"

"I'm afraid so," said Celestia, quieter than before. There appeared to be a lack of focus in her eyes.

"Whoa, whoa, hit the breaks for a second!" interjected Rainbow Dash indignantly. "If both Corvo and Discord are gone, where could they have headed off to?"

"And why Discord of all ponies?" said Applejack. "Beg yer pardon, but none of this seems right."

"Serath!" Luna nearly shouted with a new stage of indignation, throwing out a piercing glare at Serath, who was badly startled and looked at all the ponies confusingly.

"Yes?" he muttered out.

"You know Corvo best," Luna went on, taking long strides towards him. "Where would he have gone to? Why exactly? To what extent is his motive? If he is no longer in the house, he must have convinced Discord to teleport them out. Surely you must have an idea. Out with it!"

"I don't know anything," said Serath, inclining his head low.

"Nothing neither me nor my sister could think up?"

"Yes, precisely that," he replied softly.

Celestia bore a pained look, one which hinted at an overwhelming perplexity, as though her heart were bleeding spitefully. Right now some new and practically tormenting recollection of her knowledge on Corvo made an immediate impression on her; and she did not like what she concluded.

"There's two possibilities, all things considering," she said rather irritably. "Either he ventured out to gather more help, or—and this is the worse of the two—he went after King Sombra, believing that he has a chance against him."

"That could explain why Discord would tag along," said Fluttershy with drooping ears. "Ever since the Tirek incident he's been really eager to help out in whatever way he can."

"Why would he wish to contact other ponies without informing us?" said Serath. "Corvo is very pragmatic; leaving us in the dark at such a moment will prove to be a hinderance."

"Neither of us knows what goes on in his head," said Celestia. "He might have his reasons, but putting aside basic scrutiny, I seriously can't imagine what might possess him to go after King Sombra on his own. Even with Discord's assistance they'll be outmatched."

"Oh my, this is how we are now?" said Rarity meekly, as though she scarcely believed them.

"We better not cease our gait," said Serath quickly. "More efficient to discuss these woes while on the fly—double time, or however they say it."

The ponies all realized he had a point and hastily resumed their walking, noticeably faster than before.

"How did those two simply vanish under our noses?" exclaimed Luna gravely. "Ah, what were they thinking? We need answers!"

"We all do," said Celestia firmly.

Their chatter during their trip to the train station turned out to be surprisingly redundant. Everypony was either confused, shaken with fear, or readily angry at what had transpired. Serath did not say much, preferring to listen to all he could catch onto, but with each passing minute an aching conviction blustered up in his mind. He was absolutely certain Corvo held his own reasons for disappearing on such short notice, was even almost, much to his annoyance at himself, relieved to witness such a spastic willingness on Corvo's end. It at least alluded to a decrease in his anxiety problems.

Very little could be said for Luna. She was evidently displeased, even horrified, to hear such news, but her strangely ominous exterior remained present.

Celestia was in a state of trepidation, both in the echelons of indefinability and the planning process, as it were. A vague premonition kept growing in Celestia's mind that an inevitable, dreary catastrophe was about to occur. What this catastrophe could turn out to be, to what order of magnitude, Celestia could not define. If Corvo wants to put himself in harm's way, so be it, swept through her mind. Just don't make it anymore difficult for us. We must get the Crystal Heart back to the Crystal Empire. It's now or never.

* * *

"Are you certain you took us to the correct location?" asked Corvo insistently.

"Yes, yes," said Discord with nonchalance on his face, seemingly chasing away something else of greater concern.

They stood surrounded by long trees, most of which were old and gnarled, and bent low. It was still extremely dark; the forest proved to be more of a distraction for movement than what they had hoped for. Corvo navigated the area using his Dark Vision, but Discord remained bumping into trees or spiked rocks every minute or so. At last he grew terribly vexed, and with a loud groan he summoned a ball of white light. Immediately every part of their environment within a range or fifty meters was descriptively visible.

"Good call," said Corvo, lowering his Mark.

"Nevermind that," huffed Discord, and at once cast forth a most curious glance at Corvo. "How does this work again? Wait, wait, was it that we combine our powers and track down Sombra based on the reaction we get with his dark magic? Do I remember right?"

"Think of it like a chain. I use my Mark to arouse the illustrations on these papers (Black Light and White Light magic, eh?)—then, as it were, you sense magical imbalances, that being dark magic, and from here on it is a game of 'warmer or colder.' This will work."

"So much potential falling squarely on your shoulders," Discord smiled caustically. "All that's left is for us to save Equestria, defeat King Sombra, and win our medals—and by 'us,' I definitely mean you. Your idea and all."

"Let it stand that way. Now then, before we fizzle out, ah, here..." He took out the two mildly crumbled papers from his pocket and held them forth, as though they were meant to magnify something. His Mark struck a turquoise glow, and the papers themselves wavered back and forth on their own, a gleam swiping through the letters every once in a while; it was as if he held these documents underwater.

"I caught something already!" exclaimed Discord. His whole body slithered and shook up and down, a metallic wobbling noise escaped him; he immediately snapped a claw and the two were zapped away.

When Corvo found his footing he witnessed long streaks of sand at his sides, ahead was a large glittering river, in the middle of it a distorted elliptical reflection of the white moon. They teleported to a lone beach. The ball of light previously conjured had disappeared.

"Lovely view," mused Corvo, and suddenly a slow, half-hearted grin spread over his face. "Tell me, Discord, are we closer to the source of magic you sensed? Are we?"

"Eh, likely closer," drawled Discord, his yellow eyes glowing strangely. But then a change flashed on those eyes, one of evident trepidation. "I've never felt my head get so fogged up before... hmm... Corvo, you're positively certain you want to chase Sombra down the alley?"

"No turning back now," retorted Corvo imperiously, and paused. "We abandoned the ponies outright," he said again firmly. "Surely they are looking for us now, or Celestia might even feel wrathful. Who knows what at this point."

"I admit, Corvo, I'm the nosy type, but I only agreed to this on the basis that you know what you're doing." He stuck out his neck and gave Corvo a sour frown. "And do you?"

"Yes, I do. Come on then, again!" He lit his Mark, effectively agitating a magical response from the papers.

Discord tightened his jaws and, with a scrunched face, snapped his claw powerfully; but only a handful of sparks flew out. "Well, would you look at that?" he said, his whole countenance deflating wearily. "This isn't a good spot, I'm afraid. The frequency isn't right. I can sense the dark magic, but only its afterimage; let's go..." he licked his pale lips, which hinted at a pretentious smile, and narrowed his sight far ahead. "There, down the beach. Hopefully I'll pick something up."

The two walked hastily alongside the river's lips, where it met the wet sand, side-by-side.

Corvo's gait was somehow almost lackluster, mechanical even, as though he only knew how to walk straight; his eyes were sedately glassy, and a gloominess swept over his pale face. At last his head began to buzz, but he scarcely took heed of it, and with the exception of his moving legs, the whole of his composure was as immutable as stone.

"You look very out of it," Discord threw in, for the absolute sake of it.

"Must be the silence," said Corvo with a forced smile. "Ah, devil take it! Not even a cricket within earshot."

"'Devil' take it?" echoed Discord curiously, his ears perking.

"The unsavory atmosphere of this whole night, is all," laughed Corvo almost inaudibly, yet his face betrayed extraordinary excitement. "Hmm, however, as you inquired, a 'devil'—there must be a little devil in my heart, and I cannot decide on which line to cross."

"The line with Sombra, you mean? My, your persistent grumpiness is truly fascinating, really! But which line, precisely which line do you refer to?"

"How I ought to act, is what I refer to, Discord. From what I have observed Sombra almost reveres me, as it were. If I take hold of the opportunity to converse with him once more, and possibly for the last time, it shall be the end," he spoke out with a malignant grimace. A weak chuckle escaped his lips. "Ha, ha, your expression is that of confusion, I can tell. When we confront Sombra, he will be bewildered, is what I'm getting at."

"As it were?" added Discord with the utmost inclination for mockery.

"Ha, ha!—as it were, as it were." Corvo exhaled quickly and closed his eyes for a short moment. "Would you agree with me in saying that Celestia is the most fastidious among our small circle?"

"Maybe. What brings it up?"

"Well, you see, it is not in my intention to distort the significance of the word, not to an absurd degree, anyway, but perhaps she has some sort of connection with White Light magic."

"Who am I to make sense of White Light magic?" replied Discord with a shrug, but nevertheless he paid careful attention. "And what's the meaning behind 'Black Light' magic? How can light possibly become black?"

Corvo looked closely at the papers in his hand, especially the second one with the wide circle. He went on sharply: "This must be White Light, the good magic, you can say. After all, 'white' is the colour of good. And the other one," he flipped to the paper with the crooked and dark letters, "Black Light, I presume. Black—darkness—darkness is bad. Dark magic? And Equestrian magic, the sort you witness out of the conduct of love and friendship—Twilight and Cadence... hmm..."

"You make some awfully blunt analogies," said Discord with a strained voice, but right there cautious optimism flashed in his eyes. "I think you may be on to something, however. Corvo, Sombra's dark magic took from your unrecognized Mark two years ago. It's the reason he's back."

"I know that already."

"Well!" Discord suddenly tossed out. The strain on his face suggested a repressed laugh, and an all-new stage of extraordinary, even naive, curiosity. "Come to think of it, Dark and Light don't have much of a reaction to each other. They're the first of its kind, after all. Must be used to the other by now."

"My magic is somehow linked with that of Sombra's, and as such I suspect White Light will lead us to him."

"This is all needlessly convoluted," said Discord in a low voice, reaching the limits of his patience. "We'll probably need a graph and diagram to make sense of this all. It's almost like your explanations don't explain anything at all!"

"I, uh, have been told that before," mumbled Corvo uneasily.

"I'm not surprised," deadpanned Discord breathlessly.

"You must understand. If Sombra's magic is Black Light, then I should aim my magic at White Light to narrow the focus. Doing the same with Black Light here shall put your 'magical imbalances' all over the map." He stuffed the ripped paper with the cruel writings into his pocket and stretched out the sketched circle.

Suddenly, as though remembering something of capital importance, Discord stopped short and pondered: "I believe that my interaction with Black Light could explain this foggy migraine I'm getting. Oh, fine by me! We'll exclusively rely on the opposite!"

"Opposites attract, like the magnetic poles," said Corvo, grinning. He ignited his Mark.

An intense exclamation seized Discord when he himself activated his chaos magic. He looked round wildly, as though he did not understand what was going on, and at last involuntarily rested his gaze on Corvo, as though he were being forced to look. His expression acutely resembled that of ominous uncertainty, he struggled to find the right magic, but in the end he retracted from this so-called 'ominous' power as a new wave of pain hit his head. It appeared that the paper did not respond accordingly.

"Eh, this is a bit hard to describe!" exclaimed Discord feverishly; he was caught up in the heat of the spell. "It's almost like this magic hates you, Corvo, like it's attacking you; White Light magic is everywhere and nowhere, if that makes any sense."

"Hmm, this should have worked," said Corvo regretfully. He intently examined the paper in his hands. "I, ah—I believe it must be reacting to Sombra's smoke all over Equestria."

"Funny you say that, because if so, how did we manage to teleport onto this beach?"

"We were caught in an erroneous current, is all." Corvo hummed to himself, deep in thought. "What did you feel with the White Light magic?"

"Oh dear, how do I go about laying this out for you," sighed Discord pensively, swiveling his wrist as if it were an awaiting gesture. "Your very presence was the only thing that, er, existed!"

Something of surprise transformed on Corvo's face, but he simply nodded.

"The thing is, Corvo, this White Light nonsense was shooting out from everywhere, but whenever I looked it vanished, except you: all the magic was pouring into your very center, right down to your chest; but the unfortunate part is that it turned out to be short-lived: I couldn't sense anything beyond a kilometer or so."

A ting of doubt struck Corvo without warning. Almost impetuously he stuffed the current paper in his hand back into his pocket and drew out the other one.

"Here," he demanded hastily, his Mark glowing once more. "Try your luck on this one!"

What followed was immediate: no build-up was necessary to Discord's searching for a magical imbalance, or lack thereof. He thundered a snap and the two teleported in a blitz.

They reappeared in a massively expansive wheat field. The horizon was flat, but to their right, way off in the distance stood walls of spiky mountains. There was not much in terms of pony civilization in this area.

"Where are we now?" asked Corvo quickly.

"Closer to the south, I think," said Discord; he circled all his fingers round his eyes, promptly turning them into binoculars. There was nothing special to see. "Seems like that other paper worked, which wasn't the one you expected, huh?"

"So Black Light—Sombra's dark magic—is bringing us closer to him, and only him? I don't understand..." he drifted off and nearly sat down, but thought better of him and continued walking. Dubiety, the sort of feeling so unexpected as to be perceived as spiteful, burned in Corvo's mind, which annoyed him to no end. "For all intents and purposes it should be occurring the other way round: my Mark resurrected Sombra's magic, so it should stand that Dark Light would be attracted by my Mark. But the White instead, it... damn!" He lightly slapped his forehead. "Am I missing something crucial? I have in fact spent much time near the princesses."

"That's nothing but redundant information," huffed Discord irritably, crossing his arms, only now deciding to follow closely behind Corvo. "Sombra's dark magic is clearly more sensitive to your own, Corvo, and I personally regard Princess Celestia's magic to be a non-factor. We're all wrong sometimes, after all. No need to feel down and out about it."

At last Corvo ceased his gait, his eyes lit up with anticipation; he completely recovered his self-complacency, and most traces of his former agitation and indignation were gone.

"I am not wrong," said Corvo somehow sadly. He looked sorrowfully to his left palm; he closed it, turned his wrist, and stared hard at his Mark. "Damn it. Come on, Discord, again, again!" He drew out the paper with the plain circle and chains of elegant words. His Mark burned with magic once more.

Discord heaved a dumbfounded sigh but nevertheless decided this was for the best. He concentrated his chaos magic and, as before, began to shake. The same result occurred: everything round him, everything save for Corvo, darkened in his point of view.

"Nothing worth noting," groaned Discord after a second, furrowing his brow.

Their following attempts were largely in vain. An hour of empty trial and error left both Corvo and Discord in states of frustration. They constantly moved round the field, back and forth, picking specific locations to test out these imminent "imbalances," and while the supposed White Light magic continued to fail hopelessly, the Black Light source outweighed their initial plans. Corvo couldn't locate the problem, and whenever he assumed he had it figured out, and went on for another try but with a different set-up, it still didn't work. There seemed to be no predictability to this ancient magic.

At the end Corvo was quite beside himself, and reflections of skepticism flashed in his mind with each passing minute. There could be no way, he went on to contemplate, that Sombra wasn't using a variation of Black Light (all forms of Equestrian magic originated from these two), and Sombra was definitely from Equestria, there was no denying that. Something was indeed missing from the picture. Discord was just as clueless and, despite several suggestions he threw in to explain this impossible contradiction, it was to no avail.

Eventually Corvo found a rose beyond the edge of the wheat field; he stared longly at it, but did nothing else. When he stared at the rose he saw its beautiful red pedals at first, but then its charm subsumed with the darkness about, and the rose wilted. This moment nearly put him off his feet. What an off-putting rose. Why was it here, and why did it surprise him? A seemingly beautiful piece of nature turned to death without meaning to; but that's ridiculous. Flowers aren't sentient, they don't mean to do anything. One moment there was the red rose, and the next a grey and withered rose. He stared at it for an entire minute.

At last a seemingly absurd epiphany struck him.

He wandered back into the field, to Discord, who had by now given up on testing his magic with the papers.

"This is how it is, huh?" remarked Corvo, his face unusually pale. "White Light ignores all save myself, even if my Mark should be accustomed to Celestia's magic. And Black Light... is..." His eyes widened, and he felt a sort of shudder rise within him. "Corvo, you blind fool! How did you not even consider this possibility?"

"What is it?" inquired Discord with terrible anticipation; he started to become exasperated with the insignificance of his considerations and angrily wanted to leave. "Well? Don't leave this poor Lord of Chaos hanging!"

"Discord, why is 'White' Light any good, White Light in particular? Dark or darkness is synonymous with Black Light (sounds familiar with Sombra's powers, doesn't it?), but why would we jump to the conclusion? We are conditioned to expect that the glowing purity at the end of the tunnel is good, 'white' is the lack of evil, symbolically speaking. And yet this all contradicts. What if Sombra is the one who uses White Light? What if Equestrian magic is Black Light? One must know the light to know the darkness, but which is worse? Which one should we fear?"

Discord blinked rapidly. He tugged at his beard and looked skywards. "Now that you mention it," his voice suddenly became far more serious than before, "there's no moral side to magic. It's a lot like mathematics, really, depends on how you utilize its potential. But why bring that up, Corvo?" A sly grin spread on his lips. "None of us are confused about our morals, or I would hope so. Whatever do you mean by which one should we fear?"

"Take forever to explain." Corvo stared almost stupidly at the paper in front of him, like he could not believe his own eyes, he did not even want to entertain the overwhelming complexity of something he himself knew little about. "The line, Discord, the line in everyone's hearts. The line separates order from chaos."

"Chaos?" Discord smirked triumphantly and menacingly.

"Not magic," continued Corvo, not taking notice of Discord for a moment. He was anxiously tapping his foot, and was even gnawing at his nail. "Chaos might kill you, and order," he inhaled uneasily, as though he were running out of oxygen, "order might strip you of free will, your freedom, that is. Within the realm of magic, in that particular vacuum of pre-magical existence, you can conclude that only the dark was known, but when light arrived, I think it started all sorts of differences and actions, concrete and abstract, good and evil. Before only darkness—order—and then when light arrived it disrupted the order and brought forth chaos. If White Light is chaos and Black Light is order, then the line is inverted. It is not merely my intuition, Discord, only I most adamantly infer that the latter is of Equestrian emergence."

"I suppose that'd explain why White Light attracts so unambiguously to King Sombra," said Discord dubiously; he was still wavering on the issue.

"White Light is, in essence, that which destroys, and Black Light is that which builds. Now I see: Celestia is the upholder of true dark magic, but 'dark' magic brings hope; Sombra has the light to destroy. After thousands of years of written knowledge, thousands of years of editing and interpretations, the pony historians must have misplaced the two."

"Oh, ho, ho!" laughed Discord amusingly, clearly at the end of his own peculiar suspense, and had finally taken to condescending hand-waving. "I can't tell you which side of the line I'm on, Corvo, or if I'm right on the line, or if I'm anywhere near the spectrum in the first place. Are you seriously telling me that the alicorns have been using the real dark magic all this time, all because of mistranslations? But within all bets I'd be willing to strike myself down if you manage to find King Sombra by these means of magical imbalances. In practice I concur, but only because that would prove what you said to be true, and if that happens, the very foundation of Equestrian magic will crumble. Ah, I've never seen such wicked irony before. It's incomprehensible!"

"Crumble, you say?" said Corvo mechanically, almost as if he were unaware of his exact wording. "Once we manage to defeat Sombra, what in hell do I care what happens to Equestria?"

* * *

The closest train station available was further away than Celestia had anticipated—they had followed the rusted tracks, but miscalculated the distant. But at last they arrived in one piece. The station itself was two large wooden platforms on both sides of the track, holding up wobbly ceilings with dry planks. One of these platforms was actually a small room, accessible through an iron door in the back. As expected the door didn't budge, and Luna blew it down without further idling.

The room itself was small and apparently weather-worn, but no pony had taken a step in for years, judging by the outdated tools inside. There was a counter, on it a cloth with random pink patterns; there were shelves, but all were empty. This shop—if it was a 'shop' to begin with—had been closed and run down before, since the windows were boarded up.

Behind the counter they found a trap door, revealing a ladder heading underground for nearly a roughly fifty meters. This, of course, was the complex tunnel system which ran through all of Equestria. When the ponies and Serath reached the bottom they looked both ways: the tunnel was dry and dirty, and stretched onward into the dark. They went off north. Celestia took the lead, Luna stayed behind as the last one: both had their horns illuminating.

"Princess Celestia?" said Serath, after a minute had passed.

"Hmm?" she cast a brief glance at him, then resumed facing forward.

"I wonder why nobody has brought this up before, but—"

"No, we're not going to walk the whole way. That'd take weeks, and we're low on supplies as it is," assured Celestia with a calm air. "Eventually we'll reach a fork splitting off in four separate directions. Once there I can properly teleport us through the correct one."

"Teleportation is a linear process, Serath," put in Twilight, catching up to walk by Serath's side. "To do it successfully you gotta keep a mental image of a direct, physical path, and in between the spell cast you'll follow said path."

"So you cannot teleport through a wall?"

"You can," jumped in Luna. "The theoretical path you conjure up must, in some good sense, go around it. Any opening will do, naturally."

"That must be the reason why Twilight couldn't teleport out of the dreadful cave she was thrown in by Queen Chrysalis," said Rarity thoughtfully.

"Heh, right, that..." mumbled Twilight uneasily. "But, er, anyway, you've gotta be vaguely familiar with your surroundings," she once again addressed Serath.

"That's not all," said Celestia. "You must also maintain a mental image of the place you want to end up at, so it's impossible to teleport to a place you've never laid eyes on."

"I see," said Serath with faint confusion on his face, as though he were still trying to figure something out.

Celestia noticed this and went on, apparently even glad to explain it: "There have been placed many crystal checkpoints throughout these tunnels. These crystals work like magical screens. They serve the purpose of maintaining the images of every stop in the underground, as well as certain posts above ground, assuring a quick way to teleport out, or rapidly across the tunnels, in the case of an emergency."

"I never could have believed it two days ago," said Serath, strangely animated. He gave Celestia an avid glance and pondered for several seconds. "So we travel in between the joints of these tunnels. A safe plan, I trust?"

"Readily assured as far as we know," said Luna.

"I do have to wonder about those books Corvo found in that basement." Serath tapped his chin in a strange sort of rhythm, looking all ahead of him as if he were expecting an answer.

"The last I saw of him he snuck down in the basement," said Celestia, as it were, to herself. "But which one caught his attention?"

"But what was meant to be down there, princess?" asked Twilight suddenly, with a glint to her eyes.

"Notes on ancient magic, practically useless to us in modern times," replied Celestia in a conclusive voice, as if she were experiencing boundless certainty. But neither one seemed to be expressing what they were really thinking.

"I... I have to wonder what will be the first thing to come out of Corvo's mouth when we meet up again," said Serath almost breathlessly, excitement lingering in each word. "So ventures off the 'brave knight' to slay the dragon amid the narrowest of hopes. But I am familiar with Corvo's antics; he knows what he is doing."

"Does one of his antics include needlessly abandoning his comrades to walk blind in the conflict?" said Luna heatedly, turning to look hard at Serath. "After all, we have all got a hoof in the grave now thanks to him."

"I wouldn't be so sure," said Celestia in a completely calm fashion, quite ready to show her optimistic side. Something about Serath's trust in his friend had made an extraordinary impression on her. "Corvo wouldn't leave you here, Serath, not at all. He's also thrown us in the dark, as a means to make sure we don't know his location; so he's still in Equestria, and he must have a goal in mind so dangerous as to not want to risk our lives. Discord went along by his own choice, I could only conclude, and the only scenario I see in which Discord takes off without a goodbye would be to face the villain himself: King Sombra. Why else, all thing considering?"

"How about to create a distraction?" jumped in Twilight thoughtfully.

"Whatever it is, he must have gotten his inspiration from those books," said Luna through clenched teeth, although she did her best to hide this fact.

Luna had been containing quite the bewildered contempt within herself, ever since she learned of Corvo's leave. She had swayed into a more personal pattern of behaviour, frequently speaking in undertones and always had perplexed contemplation flashing in her dark eyes. I won't go into the details of Luna's current state, which was very unexpected to begin with, but more importantly because I don't understand it myself. It was as though she held a cruel hatred for Serath, unbeknownst to everypony, not because she hated Serath, but particularly because he reminded her of Corvo's abrupt, almost insulting get-away. She was having marked difficulty understanding the current predicament, as well as Sombra's position now. Anyway, we shall get to that later on.

The conversation soon died down, and the company remained walking forward for nearly five minutes in silence.

"Hey, Serath," said Twilight. She was walking so close to him the two were almost touching.

He exchanged looks with her and smiled. "Yes?"

"You don't have to answer this, but I'm curious: how did you and your wife meet, and why did you marry her?"

"Did you two meet at a party?" inquired Pinkie Pie greedily.

"Let him talk, Pinkie," said Applejack, paying close attention.

A ridiculous twist of excitement and comical joy was the effect produced on Serath's face. He smiled widely and strangely shook his head in approval. "Oh, glad you asked!" he laughed. "This is so funny, it really is funny!"

"Ah, love, such a wonderful emotion!" added Rarity joyfully, swiping her hair from her face.

"Ha, ha, it is! Now then, I'll inform you of one of the earliest memories of my wife, it tells you what she is like, and maybe why we even became engaged. She lived across the street from me in this little town in the south; I met her when I was nine years old. And I think I fell in love with her the moment I saw her, although I doubt the feeling was necessarily mutual. It was round that time when I got glasses," his voice suddenly jumped, and he smiled even more, "a-and I was very, very proud of these glasses. They were a sort of wood-rimmed style and superbly cut, and, you know, I was really proud of them. At one point she came up to me, and I asked her: 'What do you think of these?' and she responded: 'I think you look really funny and silly in those!' she pointed to me and ran back into her house. And it was only twenty years later when she finally told me she always wanted to have glasses and was merely jealous of me. I suppose my wife decided to give me a good poke about it. Our relationship built up over time and, eh, you know, as it goes..."

"Gah!" gasped Pinkie Pie, wildly grabbing at her throat. "Too cute! I can't take it!"

The others exploded with giggles and laughter. Serath chuckled nervously, his face red as a lobster. Even Luna was mildly amused.

"And what about Corvo?" said Fluttershy with brighter eyes than before. "Does he have a family?"

"As in, a wife and children? No," said Serath. "Corvo is married to his work, if anything. Still, he is satisfied with life; in regards to the interpersonal facets, he chooses quality over quantity," Serath spoke this while lightly striking his chest.

"Good to know," said Celestia, reflecting a small smile. "Judging by your character, I think you've made some fine decisions in life. I do, by the way, wish you luck on your path of medical expertise."

"What inspired you to become a doctor?" asked Twilight. Her friends' ears immediately perked at this mention. He somehow managed to captivate these ponies with his laborious studies, which surprised even him.

"Well, I suppose it fits my position rather well," said Serath in a slow, meticulous voice; his eyes dropped and his smile waned, not because the question saddened him, but due to the sorting out of an appropriate answer. It had been a long time he had received such a curious question.

"Well, I—oof, this is challenging," he went on, humming slowly and considerately to himself. "My father was the source of encouragement roughly twenty-some years ago. The old fellow worked as a caretaker in a nearby inn, of the dated fashion which no longer exists. On a cold winter evening he came home with blood on his hands, already dried up; I asked him about it, since I had never seen blood on his hands before. He looked at little me intently, smiled, and said: 'A passer-by tripped over the hooked part of his carriage, injured his chest very badly. I was there to lend a hand. It's what our people ought to do, boy.' In return for my father's quick hand at patching the passer-by offered him a single item from his carriage, whatever he wanted, at no price whatsoever. He insisted, as I later found out, which explained the basket of mushrooms my father had carried back. Mushrooms are my most favorite food, always has been that way, and so my father picked the basket filled with roasted White Buttons, thinking of me. I—heh—thought nothing of it, either that or I forgot entirely. About half a year passed by. At this point my father was away on a business trip, something concerning a woodlot with a foreign official, but I digress. I was taught to say 'May fortune smile upon thee' in another language, back in school, one which I shall not take up now. On my way home I found a man on the side of the road, sitting next to his horses and carriage; he was writing a letter, and repeated the words he wrote down out loud to himself. 'Lucky me,' I thought, 'he seems to be speaking that other language, the one taught to me at school' (fine, I will reveal to you the language: Serkonish, tongue of the far north), 'so why not?' I wandered over to the man and said, in that same language: 'May fortune smile upon thee.' I happened to have pronounced a word or two wrong, the man laughed and was quick to correct me. He asked for my name, I told him—'Serath Hemsworth, sir'—and something of joy lit up his eyes at the moment, I took notice and all. This man with whom I had given my name was the passer-by from six months prior, as he said, almost in a lisp: 'You are Hemsworth's boy, aye?' I nodded, and immediately he revealed the scar across his chest. He laughed once more. I then inquired about the paper he wrote on. It turned out his mother had passed away—something of a fatal brain fever. He grasped by small hand with both of his big ones, and told me: 'I was cut down on the side of the road, folk walked by me nervously, and your father reached his arm down to me, propped me onto his back, and took me to a bed and took great care of me. The bleeding had stopped, and I was off the next day. If it was not for him I would never have laid eyes upon my mother a final time.' She was already off the deep end back then, and this passer-by nearly missed the final days of his mother's life. He thanked me once more, and what for, I went on to reflect. He gave me a mushroom, a White Button, and I resumed my gait. I eagerly took a bite, and then it came to me: my father was always there for me when I least expected, when I could not do my homework, when I wept needlessly, when the thunder outside was too loud, when I was a little boy in the backyard, with no shoes, and he would embrace me. And the mushrooms! He remembered! Just... I mean, so ungrateful. I was so ungrateful. What was I thinking? 'It's what our people ought to do.' To help those in need is my calling, if that makes sense. I apologize!" he spoke suddenly with a flustered face. "I did not do the story justice, most of what I prattled on about must have come out quite incoherently."

"Don't apologize," said Celestia in a soft voice, a half-hearted grin now spread across her face. "We all need fortune, don't we, Serath? You could help us reach it."

"And did you tell that story to Corvo?" asked Luna.

"Yes, of course. We talk and share a number of stories, some quite humorous, too."

"Talk, huh? Yeah, I realized that by now: you and Corvo like to talk a lot, about all manner of topics," mused Twilight, but something of intense concentration shone on her expression. "There's nothing more enjoyable than a good conversation, but you two went on for who knows how long discussing ideas that could make a pony's head spin. Why do you value just talking with Corvo so much, about anything?"

"Whatever are you getting at, Twilight?" asked Rarity, her ears perking.

"Let's just say you inspired me," said Twilight, setting her gleaming gaze on Serath. "Where did you learn to say all those things? We can all learn from one another, and you really hit the nail on the head about how important speech is. Feels like I've been missing out, even after having read all twenty-six volumes of Star Swirl the Bearded."

"Glad to inspire you," returned Serath with a heartfelt smile. He danced his sight round from pony to pony, and saw Luna paying close attention; he shrugged involuntarily and continued: "Take the most true facet of each pony, say, what represents the most truth, from ten different ponies, and combine them—that gives you a literary hero. Now do the same with a million literary heroes, extract from them what is most true and heroic, and"— he kept closing and opening his hand in front of his eyes, as though he wished to grasp something of immeasurable incomprehensibility —"what you hold on to, rather—what you have is genuine truth, the truths of a meta-hero. And what better way to seek the truth than to share a dialogue every once in a while with a close friend? Look at this discussion we are having, to the degree that it's working: we both are trying to articulate our preconceived notions of reality, and I do that, you listen, then you do the same, I listen, and maybe you and I have some comments, but together we are both building something different than what we had when we first started this conversation. In a sense, we are participating in a process of articulating each other's characters, and I mean that most technically. Part of your character is an amalgam of the information you have encountered, and a lot of that is articulated wisdom, and so its sole construction, if you are having a good conversation (and that is also a conversation that is meaningful, and you can tell that when you have the conversation), it is that you are, as it were, decomposing parts of yourself, your false presuppositions, you let them die, and you let something new reemerge as an alternative. You participate in this process of metaphorical death and revival constantly when you have a meaningful conversation. You shall discover your intellectual errors, you will let them go, and a new part of you shall emerge. And then another part dies, and another part emerges. That is the ultimate exercise of death and rebirth... it is the general mythology of redemption, that which makes up the rationale of talking."

"Very well put," said Luna with feeling, at last allowing herself to crack a smile, which surprised her greatly.

Celestia decided to not respond, and instead remained gazing forth as if it were the only thing that mattered.

And the other ponies did not even know where to began. Most of their mouths were agape in the most awe-struck sense. The words Serath had just articulated carried ideas they never even thought about before. They agreed with him, of course, but could never figure out why until this very moment.

"And those are your most treasured values?" asked Twilight quickly, as though she would not get another chance.

"We are products of our environments," said Serath. "It really is incredible how the latter half of our lives is entirely made up of the habits we acquired in the first half. We are all born puppets, influenced by strings, and I wish to be a genuine individual, free from those strings." Suddenly his eyes took on a sad, weary look. "I want that more than anything."

"We're here," Celestia suddenly broke in. The others all threw their undivided attention ahead.

The tunnel split off into four directions, all of which connected to a small circular space, and in the center stuck out a long post, slightly bent; it held four sharp crystals on its sides, each pointing to a single opening.

"There we are," said Luna, hurrying to the magical post, as did the others, huddling round the crystals. Upon closer inspection there appeared holographic images on their smooth surfaces, constructing highlighted regions throughout the tunnel system. It was nothing too spectacular: they saw images of other rooms with similar-looking posts, some were wider than others, or darker.

"How do you know which one to pick?" asked Serath, unsure of which crystal to study.

"Easy," said Celestia as she lit her horn. "I can read the positions of the crystals based on their magical notations."

"Their... what?"

"I'm familiar with magical senses, traces, imbalances—that sort of work. I can follow the track back to the Crystal Empire."

"It's difficult to explain to a non-unicorn," said Twilight.

"Just roll with it," said Rainbow Dash dissuasively, evidently uninterested in the explanation. "When it comes to magic you gotta live and let live, don't think about it too much, y'know?"

"I was taught to ask questions, not ignore the unknown in the scientific field."

"I'll lend you some books on it later if we've the time," said Celestia in a low voice, by now focusing intently on the crystals, her horn glowing brighter than before. "Ah, there, I got the path. It'll take a number of teleportations before we're underneath the Crystal Empire. If you're wondering where exactly, there's an underground entrance right beside the castle."

"I trust you have a plan, correct?" said Serath, listening with great attention. "That is to say, the Crystal Empire is by now draped in that black smoke. If it really is as fatal as we believe it to be, how are we to slot in the Crystal Heart?"

"I have a way," said Celestia. The words broke involuntarily from her. She smiled for comfort, but a second later a shadow formed over her face, and she groaned to herself. "I know a spell, but—now's not the time to be playing fifty questions. We need to hurry!"

She at once surrounded all of them in her golden glow, and in unison both the fellowship disappeared and the center-left crystal flashed for a brief moment.

* * *

Corvo's new method indeed proved to be useful. They finally succeeded in leaping from the wheat field, and found themselves in a dry tundra. The horizon ran off flat for what seemed like an eternity, but they now stood on a decaying road leading straight ahead. To their right could be viewed the lateral edges of an orange canyon, which indicated a southern region. Soon afterwards a chill and sharp wind picked up. The moon was starting to wane as well.

"Down this path, you say?" said Corvo, squinting his eyes to look ahead, but he couldn't see a thing; the lack of light meant they could barely make out the details a couple hundred meters in front of them. They had already been walking for some time.

"Yes, I sense the magic growing stronger up the path," said Discord.

"I wonder if we will last long enough to see the sun again," Corvo got out bitterly, as though his tongue were impossibly heavy.

"You want to see the sun again?" Discord looked at him in solemn surprise.

"Not because I miss a natural light source, it hasn't even been a full day after all. But we are surrounded by the dark, and we can only navigate this road through the moon's light."

"You weren't complaining before."

"But Sombra's all-encompassing smoke is the darkest shade of black I have ever seen before, sort of like if it absorbed all light and reflected none. What if his smoke is right there, in the distance, a mere kilometer or two away? It hardly produces a sound, and this wind keeps ringing in my ears. For all intents and purposes we might be minutes away from death, and never know about it. What do you make of that?"

"If that were true, I'd meet my end cursing," said Discord with a grin. But his lips twitched and froze, as if he gave a start; something of exasperated dead seriousness inclined on his long face. "Pfft! I bet I could scour through the history of pony-kind and not find anyone half as evil as Sombra."

"And what of Celestia's evacuation plan? I mean, she ordered a mass evacuation on the whole country, right?" An ironic, lifeless laugh escaped him. "I have no idea how many ponies have died thus far, but none made it out safe from Canterlot. How many bodies right there? One-hundred thousand? Two-hundred?"

"Enough to mourn for a long time," replied Discord, dropping his eyes.

For one moment the thought struck Corvo that Discord would never smile again. Perhaps the dead night sky was getting to him.

"I think Luna is helping Sombra achieve his goal," came out of Corvo with no warning.

Discord cast a hard stare at Corvo, quite taken aback, scanning him as if he were mad. But Corvo was hardly shaking (we don't count the cold wind), but instead everything about his composure and countenance showcased consistency, an adamant conviction like no other. Discord slumped down a bit and hummed, deep in thought.

"Mind repeating that?" he said almost caustically, twisting a finger into his left ear. "You think Princess Luna is under King Sombra's direct control?"

"Right."

Discord shot up his back and kept blinking to himself for several seconds. "Really?"

"Call it what you will, but I have my doubts."

"Corvo, first thing's first: what magnificent piece of evidence do you hold to defend such an allegation?"

"Nothing concrete yet."

"Then why are you so worried?" Discord was getting strangely excited now. "How did King Sombra ever manage something as complex as mind control, and when? But even if what you're saying is true—absolutely no pony has caught on, not even the highly vigilant Princess Celestia herself? Magic of that caliber isn't entirely inconspicuous, you know. Why did you come to that conclusion?"

"Call it a... a..." He paused, searching for the right words. "Call it a 'fit of passion,' if nothing else."

A fit of passion? Is he yanking my tail? thought Discord; but he said nothing yet, and seemed purposely to refrain from speaking.

"Come now, Discord, how am I to compose myself in times like these?" Corvo all but threw his arms up, firmly tightening his fists, accompanied by a weak smile. "I do not even know where to begin on explaining my reasoning for suspecting such an ordeal from Luna, and yet I do. Funny, is it not, the nonsensical nature of the mind? I often assume that all of our struggles in life can be predicated on the fact that we seek contradictory things simultaneously. We truly are 'walking contradictions,' but—enough of that! I have been thinking about this for quite some time now. Sombra released his gaseous weapon two days ago, I believe. What kind of foresight would lead to the destruction of the Crystal Empire the moment we arrived there? The Crystal Heart was never meant to be discovered, but from what Serath told me he was the only one capable of unlocking an obscure, magic-absorbing lock. Even if I came to the rescue (as I have done) without Serath in the picture, we would depart immediately, for time is of the essence now. But Sombra knew—all of it."

"King Sombra knew Princess Celestia would be the one to go after him, and you'd be hunting for him no matter the objections," said Discord curiously, at last catching the drift of what Corvo was latching on to, all the while he'd been looking at Corvo from time to time with wide eyes.

"It was almost like he knew we were going to split up," continued Corvo with a glassy look, he had even forgotten that he was walking. "We know what trouble he aroused in that crazed village, but does that explain everything else we just covered? You see, I kept running all these notions through my head, and—hmm, I noticed Luna enjoys her alone time, like back in the Crystal Empire—and I was completely scrambled. Without even thinking next I said to myself: 'Luna is working with Sombra, she is under his control, something is off.' For an extraordinarily brief moment, less than the blink of an eye, rage burned within me; and back in the train, I looked Luna square in her face, and rage was burning in me, and without understanding it myself, I thought: 'Luna is undoubtably against us, she is the enemy.' I wanted nothing more in the world than to expose her right then and there, frenzied fear was in me then and there. Eh, why are you giving me that look? Not seemly, is that it? Not suitable in my position?"

"Frenzied fear?" repeated Discord in a low, searching voice. "Is that the so-called 'fit of passion' you were taking about?" And suddenly, even inappropriately, he erupted into a crooked laughter. "Ha, ha, ha—no, stop, please stop! I can't take it! First the bit about dark magic, and now this?"

Corvo's eyes remained following the road. His face read indifference, and at once he sighed.

"Why should I fool myself?" he said, not exactly puzzled, but perhaps with disappointment. "What reason do you have to believe anything I say? Of course you would doubt my convictions. Very well, I hardly need your opinion as it stands, only your magic."

"Hey, hey, hey!" rapped out Discord with a strange air, smirking almost pitifully. "Absurd as what you say sounds, it's practically my obligation to believe you. I've followed you this far, haven't I? Haven't I place my absolute trust in this plan of yours? We're both staring the abyss deep in its ugly mug, any further and that'd be considered the leap downwards. We've journeyed through all this distance, Corvo; I'm aware that there's no turning back, I've known that since the beginning. May as well go along with what you're saying. In fact, it makes a decent bit of sense. If Princess Luna truly is under the binding influence of King Sombra, and placing the Crystal Heart in its rightful place would theoretically eliminate him, then doing so must relieve her of his control, correct?"

"My thoughts exactly. But there is a minor hole in my hypothesis," he added, with a dubious expression on his pale face. "Not enough to omit Luna's back-stabbery, but it is still of some concern. Luna must be contacting Sombra in some manner, so in that case, what manner?"

"There's no way he could have predicted all of ours moves and instructed Princess Luna accordingly. Unless you want me to believe that, too."

"What? No, of course not. Sombra may be dangerously cunning, but he cannot observe future events before they occur. Ah, I need to know!" He started biting his nail. "Serath's arrival had to have been an accident, and yet nothing makes logical sense unless that lunatic is privy of Serath. Sombra used the mirror to connect our worlds, as a means for him to cross over, but I think he overlooked a detail."

"King Sombra made a mistake?" said Discord, raising an eyebrow.

"Yesterday morning Serath and I were conversing about the mirror. At a certain point, although I cannot pinpoint the exact time of wording, there was an aggregation of the ideas we had been tossing up in relation to variations in magic-based reactions. To spell it out plainly, dark magic might react violently with regular unicorn magic, but not at all with chaos magic, but my Mark could either de-power or propagate either one."

"Oh, I think I get it. It's just like chemistry!" chuckled Discord.

"Well, inorganic chemistry. I believe the only way Sombra could have linked our worlds would be by finding the right magical equation and, as it were, mapping it out through a catalyst: the mirror. I have no notion of what he did wrong—perhaps the balance was off, or the predicted timings, whatever—but I felt a significant reaction between my Mark and the mirror. I met up with Serath, and the whole thing just collapsed, sucking us back into Equestria, more or less when Serath showed up, as though the magic had to hold on to a non-magical entity."

Discord crossed his arms, forgetting the weight of the nearby magical imbalance momentarily. "Two years ago, your second visit, and four months before then, your initial one—he had all that time to plan ahead, to slip into your place and craft the black smoke. My, how poetic should it be that you released King Sombra when you were really just trying to protect your poor city."

"Poetic and inconvenient," huffed Corvo. Besides, either I went to Equestria and revived Sombra or a war would erupt.

Myriad little jingling noises arose right in the direction they were heading. They hadn't even taken into consideration that anything else could be out there with them. Corvo immediately put his hand to his sword's folded handle, and both he and Discord halted uneasily.

Corvo could vaguely descry a large, swaying mass approaching, but specifically what remained hidden in the dark. A second later and there could be heard a strange whistling.

"Is it a pony?" asked Discord with nonchalance.

At last what emerged before their eyes was indeed a pony. An aging stallion, with a narrow face and hollowed cheeks, which contrasted peculiarly with his small eyes and shabby mane. He pulled from behind him a tiny wooden cart, decorated on both sides with pairs of bronze bells. He halted before them, as though he were unfazed to see a human and draconequus standing next to each other in the middle of nowhere.

"Dawn's still a way's off," said the stallion stiffly. "You two fellas out in the open at a time like this?"

"And who, my good pony, might you be?" inquired Discord curiously. He quickly swept his serpent body round the cart, and abruptly appeared again from behind Corvo.

"I don't think that matters, I'm afraid," huffed the stallion, bouncing his eyes back and forth between the two strangers with ominous cogitation.

"Better question: why are you out here?" asked Corvo, relaxing his shoulders.

"My mates received news of death taking hold of Equestria, sir. Our princess ordered her subjects to leave as soon as possible. I'm making my way to the western border, sir."

"The evacuation was sent out two days ago," said Corvo, and for some reason he looked behind him, then back. "How many ponies are still in Equestria, would you estimate?"

The old stallion looked falteringly at Corvo, as though he did not understand the question, and his small, green eyes blinked involuntarily. "I don't know, sir," he said at length.

"Fine then. But like I said, two days ago you should have been notified of the 'death.' Why are you still in Equestria?"

"Got to be certain my family heads out safe first, then comes the exchanges. I'm one of the last ponies from my area to be taking off."

"Then we ought not to waste each other's time. Go, head for the borders."

"What about you two?" he asked suddenly as Corvo began walking forth again. "Shouldn't you both be running with me?"

"Us?" said Discord with an inappropriate grin. "We're heading to the very heart of all this madness, to save Equestria. You can thank us later."

"Maybe," sighed Corvo. "I should avoid black smoke if I were you, just to say. Farewell."

They then departed, but Corvo was left feeling cold, like he did not get to express everything he wanted to. He and Discord resumed their gait in silence for nearly a minute.

"He was very odd if you ask me," remarked Discord, breaking the silence.

"I wonder what was in that cart."

"Oh?" Discord was ready to add a second remark, but his entire body began to vibrate, his eyes burned with animation, which went unnoticed by Corvo.

"Eh, leave it be. Now I know how the Outsider could not sense Sombra's arrival with his own magic, and when everything over two years ago was put into place. I was thinking about how Luna and Sombra are contacting each other, and I remembered that—"

"New signal!" cried Discord in a state of fervour, which readily made Corvo drop whatever was on his mind at that moment. "It's the strongest one so far."

"Excellent!" Corvo took out the paper with the 'Dark Light' writings and ignited his Mark. Discord hastily took hold of the now visible trace and focused his own magic, slowly orientating his body to match what he sensed.

"There we are," said Discord breathlessly. But he did nothing, and only stared at Corvo with a strange, fixed look. His face suddenly captured an air of desperate resolution.

"What is it now?" inquired Corvo with tremendous haste, watching his words carefully. "Why did y—ah, why do you look all twisted? Did we miss something critical?"

"I can feel it," Discord breathed out with decision. He even began to shudder. "Oh, I can feel it alright. We're close, Corvo. We're very, very close. My powers are begging me to run away, to get as far away from him as fast as possible. All my nerves are screaming danger. The presence of King Sombra is right around the corner. This may be out last stop, but who knows..." And a little twisted line came into his caustic smile. "Any final words of departure before we go? Anything you want to say, to get off your chest? You got any redemption left in you?"

"Nothing worth noting," replied Corvo with a cruel smile, even with a sort of menace in his voice. "And what about you?"

"Me? Well..." Discord inhaled longly. "I... I was... I'm glad that I know how to live a meaningful life. In spite of my abhorrent past self, I was taught how to carry the burden; I was taught how to come to terms with my mistakes; I—was taught how to stand solidly by the ponies who can rely on me."

"Hmm, really now? And who 'taught' you those virtues?"

"A friend," said Discord resolutely, and at once snapping his claws. The two were gone in a blinding blast of magic.

* * *

The drab environments of the tunnel stood out this time, somewhat fuzzy for a moment as a temporary visual effect of long-distant teleportation. Most of the ponies instinctively shook their heads, and soon huddled together again, right next to Celestia and Luna.

"Not much has changed," said Serath familiarly, blinking hard. "Phew, now that is a tad dizzying!"

"I thought up of some last-second short cuts," said Celestia, right off the bat surveying the next set of crystals, but these ones were a different colour. "We travelled, just now, something like four hundred kilometers. That's my guess, anyway."

"Gee, I didn't even know about this underground system till today," remarked Spike gleefully. "This is awesome! We'll be setting that bad boy"— he pointed to Celestia's saddlebag, in allusion to the Crystal Heart —"into its rightful place in the Crystal Empire before Sombra knows what hit 'em."

"I wouldn't celebrate just yet," said Twilight, although the opportunistic glitter in her eyes betrayed any sense of worriment she carried. "Er, I mean, we have to be certain everything'll play out smoothly and in our favour."

"Ha, nothing can get in our way now!" exclaimed Rainbow Dash.

"Gotta agree with you, RD," said Applejack, inclining her hat.

However, while the ponies swayed into a small chatter, Serath's attention somehow fell on Luna, who stood the furthest from the group by roughly a foot. Although he was acquainted with her by sight—at least—he only now truly began to study the remarkably unknown change in the whole of her physiognomy: her very face, ever so inclined to expansive gazes and cold smirks, now only weighed with an air of ominous detachment. Serath might have been wrong in his assessment, but to his mind she looked as though she did not want to be there (not in the way that every single pony clearly wished to be sitting comfortably at home right now, without having to worry about King Sombra, but more along the lines of actually holding a gloomy disdain for the fellowship). It was almost like a nervous impatience, masked by characteristic quietness, had partly dominated Luna.

But on that later. Serath was just ready to ask Luna if there was anything on her mind she wished to share, or if not, then at least reflect an assuring smile in her direction; but then Celestia declared admission of their next teleportation, and just like that they took off with another golden flash.

The next room they appeared in was larger than the previous two, about twice as wide even. Rusted pipes ran in bent pairs along the circular walls, and continued on to meet several more pipes throughout the tunnels. They were covered in dark moss, blatantly showing its worn-out age. Some of these pipes were even shuddering, and noises of what was believed to be hot steam spewed, echoed all along the tunnel system.

"Are you positive this is a good idea, Tia?" began Luna mysteriously and importantly, speaking in a rapid whisper. A dreadful reluctance could be felt by her composure alone. "I don't want to suggest anything, I don't want to lift the veil, but, I mean, what if something happens?"

"Worrying this late in the game will do us no good, sister," replied Celestia imposingly but with dedicated compassion. She forced a smile. "We've got to pull ourselves together. Complaining about our suffering will only make it worse."

Luna is displaying some early symptoms of a serious fever, thought Serath, who had been listening. And... Corvo told me about his suspicions. He thinks Luna is hiding her true colours. But I know practically nothing of her relationship with Celestia, so who am I to judge? Now that I think on it, Corvo is wrong. What he says is implausible. If that Sombra king were to possess any of us with his dark magic, it would be Celestia: the leader of this group.

"Ready again," announced Celestia, her horn glowing for the third time. "Serath, step a bit closer. It's easier for my magic to latch on to you when we're together."

"Uh, right!" said Serath as he took a step forth.

"Answer me this, Serath," said Luna, looking hard at him as though he did something wrong. "When you meet up with Corvo once again, what'll you tell him?"

"It depends on the outcome, really. Whatever happens I will probably question his actions, and his reasoning for them. It is only natural to want to know."

"It sure is," she said, as it were, to herself. "How else are we to counter the unknown?"

"The unknown?"

"Nevermind. It's nothing."

Celestia teleported them straight through the correct tunnel again. But upon reappearance they immediately took heed of a disturbance: the pipes were still there, but now they held severe dents all across them, and were shaking like mad, as if something were trying to break free. It was noticeably more noisy here than five seconds ago. It stuck out like a sore thumb in the dark.

"Whoa, this doesn't look too good," commented Spike, even afraid to go near the wild pipes.

"How long has it been since these pipes were last treated?" inquired Twilight readily.

"I'm not familiar with the exact schedule, but this isn't right," said Celestia, biting her lower lip, completely distracted by the unnaturally unstable pipes. "These tubes are the ones that transport water to cities such as Canterlot, and further down is the Crystal Empire's system."

"So we are under Canterlot," assented Luna in a subdued voice. "I suppose I'm correct in saying so. But that means—" an intense trepidation overlapped her face. "Sister, the center of King Sombra's smoke is here, in Canterlot Castle, where it all began. Do you know what that spells for us?"

Trepidation of greater proportions flashed in Celestia's burning eyes, which reflected in her actions. She hurriedly found the appropriate crystal and started to concentrate her magic.

"We need to move ahead!" she said through clenched teeth in a tone suddenly charged. "We're right under the beast. It'll be too late if—"

A pipe a dozen or so meters from behind them burst violently: its metals arms flew outward and shrapnel tinkled out. But in that instance, much to their horror, the deathly black smoke poured into the tunnel at an alarming rate. It was spreading quickly, too quickly for anyone to get a word out.

It would take less than a second for it to cross them.

Terror struck all of them instantly. Luna looked at the smoke with a contorted face, far too shocked to react properly.

Serath fell over in his vain attempt to run away. The ponies, all with darkened expressions, screamed and grabbed on to one another.

Celestia wildly grabbed hold of each and every one of them with her magic, and using all her might teleported them right away.

For the next short moment none of them knew what was going on, it was as if their entire surroundings became alien to them. The ponies tossed their heads round frantically, seeking the black smoke, but discovered a separate room entirely. The pipes were still present, behaving normally this time, echoing the noises of rushing water.

Serath rose from the ground, striking his forehead lightly and coming to his senses. They had indeed made it out alive, and now stood, he assumed, a few hundred kilometers away from that initial accident. But then a new apprehension for the uncertain took hold of his heart: his eyes aimlessly gazed among the ponies, with no clear point to focus on, but a thing or an idea seemed to be standing out somewhere, just as something will sometimes obtrude itself upon the eye. These thoughts all flashed before him within the first second or two of reappearing in a different room. It was his instinct, either learned from his Medical Academy experience or by mere nature, to question everything when something unexpected happened and vanished just as fast as it had happened.

Finally having restored his clear head, what was "obtruding" came to him: Twilight was on the ground, the only one not standing up, and while the ponies were still recovering from the shock of the imminent danger, Celestia and Luna ran to her at once.

"What's the matter with her?" he heard Luna ask in tones of disbelief.

Celestia was there, kindly nudging her with a hoof, while her friends surrounded her; but an ear-piercing scream rushed out of Twilight. Nearly everypony was taken aback, shook with horror. Twilight was shaking uncontrollably, her screeches wavering in volume. Tears began swelling in her eyes.

"Twilight!" cried Celestia sorrowfully, followed by calls from her friends.

"Somepony do something!" cried Spike feverishly, clutching Twilight's shoulder. But it was as if she hardly recognized them: she kept on gasping and squeaking wildly, shuddering rapidly like she were possessed.

Serath rushed to her, parting the crowd and bending low, all with a strict expression.

"She is in a great deal of pain," he said mechanically, leaning closer to her.

"We can see that!" seethed Celestia, trying desperately to figure out what had happened to Twilight.

"Not just that," went on Serath in a crystal clear voice. "Intensive pains plus the seizures—possible disturbance in her nervous system." He hovered over Twilight, staring straight down into her face: she showed no signs of perceiving that anyone else was in the room with her, or even hints of receptiveness. Her eyes were somehow vibrating, like they had no control over themselves.

At last Twilight delved into a state of pitiful wheezing and crying, but still loud enough to be passed off as deranged shrieks.

"Can't you do something to help our Twilight?" asked Rarity imploringly, as she herself verged on tears.

"She must be experiencing double vision," said Serath in a low voice, intentionally ignoring the ponies. "Must not be her nerves then. Did any of you see what happened to her right before the teleportation? Did she trip, or—"

"The smoke must have gotten to her," said Luna abruptly, her entire composure stiff, unmoving, as though she were afraid to touch anything. In fact, her face in general was overcome with a certain gloominess.

"Right before we took off?" said Pinkie Pie in grim surprise.

"I noticed it, right in the corner of my eye. The smoke teleported with us, and Twilight was the furthest behind."

A sharp cry escaped Twilight's now-bloodless lips once again, drawing their attention back to her instantly.

"Given the directness of her pupils, Twilight here is hardly conscious," said Serath. "Let me think: blurred vision, neurological deficiencies, pulsing levels of physical pain, seizures, impaired cognitive awareness—"

"Get to the point!" interposed Celestia, quite beside herself now at her inability to do anything.

"These symptoms," continued Serath calmly, "this all suggests increased intracranial pressure, but... ah, damn it!" He finally allowed anger to flash in his eyes. "I have dealt with these problems before, but only in infants, and to a far lesser degree."

"Wait, wait!" interjected Rainbow Dash in haste. "What the hay did you say before?—increased something pressure? What is that?"

"A rise in pressure in the fluid that surrounds the brain and spinal cord," said Serath, dragging a finger along the back of his head for a visualization. He sighed deeply, rising a little on his knee, now having learned of Twilight's condition. "So that is what that smoke is capable of? It hardly scratched her back side and this is put on the table? It must have boiled up her spinal column or something."

"Serath, listen," said Celestia pleadingly, turning to him with an imploring face. "None of us here are qualified for this, but you are. Maybe we can help in some way. Can't you, at the very least, relieve Twilight of the pain?"

Serath seized the moment to survey the long looks the ponies were throwing in his direction, all equally transparent in undeserved emotional pain. Twilight gave a shrill cry once more, and the ponies, at first, nudged closer to her, but found themselves in the awkward position of having absolutely no idea what to do.

But Serath swept a palm over the cold sweat on his forehead, and proceeded to remove his overcoat. He tossed out to the side the tracheostomy tube from earlier, a pack of medial cloth, a pen, his wallet, and several papers stapled together of unimportance.

He strode over to the tormented Twilight and, having folded his coat, carefully slid it under her neck.

"But what are we supposed to do!" exclaimed Rainbow Dash hotly.

"Not much," said Serath in a low voice.

"You can't expect us to jus' idle on," reproached Applejack.

Yet another bout of convulsions shook Twilight to no end, an she began to groan quietly.

"Do something!" exclaimed Pinkie Pie, trying to lean closer.

"I am trying."

"You gotta try harder. This is Twilight we're talking about!" said Spike.

"I am aware of that."

"I don't know how much more of this I can take," said Fluttershy breathlessly, weeping indignantly.

"Hurry!" cried Rainbow Dash again.

"How about you all shut the hell up," retorted Serath, firmly and imperiously, never taking his sight off Twilight. The five ponies, as well as Spike, almost fell on their rumps in bewilderment. Celestia and Luna were standing aside, watching the whole scene with hopeless anticipation.

Serath sighed and continued in that same tone: "This situation is to be treated with the utmost respect, and nothing less. Shouting can only worsen her condition, so I demand complete silence. Twilight has certainly gone off of it: never in my career have I encountered such a severe state of hydrocephalus, if such a diagnosis can hold up under a hospital's examination. I snuck my coat under her neck for breathing support, it can help with stability. But that is all there is. I truly do apologize for saying this: there is genuinely nothing else I can do."

A grave shadow swept over Celestia's face. The ponies were still trying to process this information, some were even crying now.

"Nothing you can do?" asked Luna solemnly.

"Even if we were back in my house, or better yet, the university where I do my research, we have nothing at the ready to treat her condition. Our nineteenth century science hardly understands the causes of encephalitis to begin with, let alone the mess that is hydrocephalus. The most we have are alcoholic remedies to numb the physical agitations, maybe for the day. But this?" He fell off his knees, pressing his back to the wall, and looking keenly at the ponies' frenzied faces, and especially Spike, who stood there paralyzed, beyond words, totally helpless to save his best friend. "Believe me, if I could rid her of this horror, I'd do so in a heart beat."

"But she'll pull through... right?" said Celestia intensely, with weak notes ringing in her voice.

"I suppose I should not hold back on informing you of any possible complications. Best case scenario: permanent neurological problems, most likely paralysis if you want my personal opinion." He was quiet for a moment.

"And the worst case scenario?" asked Luna as though the answer to this question was the only thing that mattered.

"Worst case: Twilight will be gone. Let us hope it does not come to that."

"W-wait, wait," said Spike, the corners of his mouth quivering. "If y-you're a doc—a doctor, you do this all t-the time, right? How often do your patients... you know, go away?"

"That is impossible to assess correctly," said Serath. "Previous encounters of mine with increased pressure in the spinal column were with infants, roughly two-to-six years of age, and they never expressed so much pain as Twilight does. Out of those I knew..." He paused sharply, as though something bitter stung in his mouth. "Listen, we should not dwell on these pointless anecdotes. What remains of capital importance, right here and now, is doing whatever we may to prevent her death—any death, actually. I will not have it. Please, none of you take offence: there is absolutely nothing any of you can do, nothing I can do outside of professional speculation."

"Actually, there may very well be a way to save her," said Celestia suddenly.

Everypony's eyes lit up, and were on the verge of loudly responding in surprise, but Serath hushed them, and set his gaze on Celestia with terrible curiosity.

"There's a chance placing the Crystal Heart in its rightful location will heal Twilight," continued Celestia with a weak, desperate look plastered on her face.

"How would that work?" inquired Serath, his voice quieter than what was expected from the animation on his face.

"If the smoke was the cause of this problem," replied Celestia, but she paused hesitantly, as though she were unsure of what to add, "well—and we know the Crystal Heart can destroy every last trace of it, wouldn't it serve this purpose?"

"Are you saying that fragments of Sombra's smoke is inside Twilight, and by effect causes her this pain?" contemplated Luna.

"That... might just be the problem," said Celestia with a new gravity to her voice. Twilight's friends were all eyeing the princesses almost hysterically, hoping for any fraction of hope, and at last looked to Serath, as though for confirmation.

I can tell Celestia is grasping at straws here, thought Serath, ambiguity inclined on his analyzing face. I can in no good effort judge the properties of the smoke's 'magic,' but basic biology does not concur with such a conclusion. Even if the smoke were to be cleared, I do not see how it will reverse the neurological effects. Come now, Serath, I best not crush them. "Hmm, yes, seems rather plausible. Fine, now we have even more reason to save the Crystal Empire."

"So there is a way to save Twilight," said Spike with new-found hope.

"And when will we be off to the next post, Tia?" asked Luna, although she was looking nowhere in particular, and seemed to ask as a reference for her own reflection.

"I can't decide what effects teleportation may have on Twilight just yet," said Celestia. "Serath, do you think she'll get temporarily better, like how a strong headache will subside at times?"

"That is only natural. Look, she has gone quiet now."

Twilight's body went limp. Her eye-lids dropped heavily into a senseless expression.

"How long till we get to the Crystal Empire?" asked Rainbow Dash impatiently.

"A few more jumps, Rainbow," said Celestia with decision. "I promise you all Twilight won't meet her end, not like this. I've lived far too long, unlike her. She deserves to see all the wonders life has to offer, much like you, her friends."

That last line immediately inspired a sense of passion in each of their hearts, evident by the hot gleam which struck their eyes in that moment. It was all they could think about.

Luna, on the other hand, looked to be more in her own bubble. She expressed a vague determination, but it was all somehow superficial; in actuality there was little to no vigour in her countenance, and if anything, she seemed even sad. Of course, as far as I can tell, this is to be expected given their situation, and perhaps it was a characteristic response to be doubtful or cynical, and like I have described, it seemed to be exclusive to her.

"Give me five minutes," said Serath, staring searchingly into Twilight's deathly pale face. "I want to wait for a bit, just to study her condition more calmly. That is all I ask, then we will go." But he was breathless. Perhaps he intended to express his idea with more art and naturalness, but his speech was too hurried and debatable.

But Celestia would rather not have objected then. She was completely and horrifically worried for Twilight, and adding her genuine trust of Serath's intuition, the alicorn decided to go along with it. Twilight's friends took up one corner of the room, likely to start up some quick, albeit glum, chatter, while Celestia and Luna were by the crystal post.

That left Serath next to Twilight, who for the next five minutes had been going over what he memorized in several books. I won't write down exactly what he was thinking, but it should be mentioned that this entire time, starting with Twilight's physical illness, Serath had been mapping out his own experience as a doctor, that's to say, he was comporting himself exactly as what would be expected of him back in the hospital. But, at last, he let himself survey Twilight as a regular person, not only the mechanical amalgamations of a learned doctor; and Serath was suddenly hit by a great surge of sympathy. He felt an unpleasantness darken over him. He slowly reached into the outer pocket of his shirt and pulled out the picture of him and his family. And then Twilight sluggishly opened her eyes, which were almost bloodshot.

"This is me," he said in a barely audible whisper, and without even thinking he lowered the photo right before her. "My wife, my son, and his baby sister. Once this is all over you can keep this." He placed it back in his shirt with a trembling hand, and he said again in a low, ragged voice: "I... I'll keep this safe. Just, you know..." he suddenly stood up and suppressed what felt like a shudder.

"You look all but happy to stay here," remarked Celestia, catching the attention of everypony in the room. "I got hold of the next spell. We're going."

Serath nodded to show his understanding and agreement.

"About time," said Luna to herself in a sarcastic tone.

And once again they were off, ever closer to the Crystal Empire.

* * *

"What is this place?" said Corvo, looking all round him.

They stood before a dirt pasture, approximately several acres, surrounded by sickly looking trees and low hills. What was most unusual was the plethora of stones, varying in size, scattered across the land. There were even a few large boulders jutting out of the ground. A little ahead was a fenced ring, although the planks that made up the fence were largely old and broken down. It was as if no one had lived here for a long time.

Within the fencing was a little cobblestone house, apparently sturdy in its construction, with small windows. Next to it a windmill of commendable height, and right after that a long, matte grain bin with a wide, wooden door for the entrance.

The night sky had brightened up somewhat by now, the silver moon was resting deep in the west.

"Now isn't this quaint!" remarked Discord, walking ahead of Corvo. "Who would've thought we'd end up in Pinkie Pie's rock farm."

"A rock farm?" said Corvo dubiously. He found himself thoroughly unimpressed with the ugly scenery, and subsided into a dignified silence, watching out carefully for anything out of place, as it were.

Discord, however, acted much more lively. He paced about, surveying the countless rocks on the dirt, and strode right up to the fence.

"My, the choice of wood here is particularly drab," he said in a provocative voice, somehow even pleased with himself by mere virtue of his own presence.

"What on earth is a rock farm?" inquired Corvo, even more confused than before. "How does one farm rocks?"

"Oh, you know, a little of this, a little of that."

"No, I don't know." He set his attention squarely on the old-fashioned house, and began making his way there. "But why am I questioning 'rock farming' of all things? You all capitalize on unexplainable sorcery, but at the same time put modern technology to decent use, like oil lanterns. Equestria is seriously the most contradictory country I have ever visited, and believe me, I have visited some truly antithetical autocracies."

"You should see where I live," Discord smiled caustically.

"I... you said we were close," said Corvo. "Do you sense any imbalances, or is Sombra nearby?"

A dulled blade from the windmill suddenly broke off, flapped about and eventually towards the fence, and swept to the ground. It impacted against the ground a number of times before it came to a halt; and its weak echoes made Corvo realize just how quiet the outdoors had been.

"Everything is dead," said Discord. His smile had quickly vanished, he even lowered his shoulders and let his arms go limp without a trace of magic on his part.

"What do you mean: dead?" said Corvo, turning in his general direction. "No one is here but us."

Corvo was meaning to leave once again, but something about this farm bothered him. Discord was watching the cobblestone house steadily, although for seemingly no reason. There was not a hint of jesting on him now.

"I don't mean other ponies," said Discord again, as though utter quietness was the last thing he expected. "There's nothing here. Well—how do I put this? No magic, no 'imbalances,' certainly no other pony. It's almost like this farm doesn't exist: its physical appearance is there, we'll give it that, but I take nothing away from it, I don't sense a thing."

What the hell is he going on about? thought Corvo, but nevertheless his face became gloomy with unease. If Discord cannot sense anything, is this farm the end of the journey? Have we made it? But... I do not see anything. "Discord, do you at the very minimum have any idea of Sombra's location? If not then this whole abandonment of ours was a vain attempt."

"Oh, this truly is a disaster!" declared Discord with a strange sincerity. He heaved a sigh, and his lower lip drooped out like a pancake. "Eh, is it too late to reminiscent about the good ol' days when I was a statue, frozen like a stump, or are you too serious for that?"

"No," said Corvo firmly. "Pinpointing Sombra is the priority. It's not a habit of mine to leave work unfinished, and seeing it to the end could potentially save Equestria and reveal whatever Luna is hiding. Listen—perhaps we could scout out the area, look in that house for a half-decent start. And besides, whatever is there to show might often—"

Discord suddenly gasped loudly, as though something inexplicably grabbed hold of his throat. His eyes glowed a sick yellow, much to his shock, highlighting horror on his contorting face unlike nothing else.

"What the hell!" cried Corvo in extreme perplexity, and ran to help, but in an instance lashes of black smoke spewed from the ground, immediately covering the air round Discord, effectively hugging him.

Corvo instinctively teleported away from the danger, but was taken off guard upon noticing that the smoke, completely identical to what had engulfed the Crystal Empire, didn't want anything to do with him. It obsessively drowned Discord, and in a moment his screams were void. The smoke then vaporized and the result was a deathly pale Discord spread across the ground, entirely still like a dead thing.

Corvo couldn't speak. He couldn't even think cohesively. And before a single conclusion was made, something of an apprehensive placement dominated the corner of his eye. He rapidly turned left and, as though nothing else carried much weight, Sombra was standing there, smiling menacingly. His hard expression was not so much good-natured as accommodating and ready to assume amiability if the occasion should arise.

Traces of magic just evaporated from the tip of his curved horn the moment Corvo looked at him.

"Alright, you found me," he said, feeling a strong need to start the conversation. "What did you have in store? Oh, I see, Princess Celestia isn't with you. I was anticipating you, but not accompanied by him..." He cast a brief side-glance at Discord's lifeless body. "It's consequential how you all assumed my smoke is only spreading from Canterlot. I can still produce it on my own, anywhere I'd like, at any other time. And look at what it's done: sucked the magic right out of him," his voice suddenly rang with notes of sorrow, which contrasted sardonically with his unapologetic smile. "Ah, Corvo, I think this may very well be the last time we meet. And believe me, oh, definitely believe these next few words—my eyes will be looking down on you in the next hour."

"I expect that you are ready to forgive yourself, because I promise you that today is the worst day of your life," said Corvo with an intense severity that burned in his grey eyes. All I need is to stall for time—hopefully. Damn it all!

"Don't bolster me up just yet," returned Sombra, turning round to the house and beckoning for Corvo. All at once his face expressed a sudden solicitude. "Let's go inside, if you know what's good for you. It's pretty cold out in the open." When Corvo obliged (albeit with terrible and anxious reluctance) and followed him closely, Sombra added: "It's a good sign that you treat me so familiarly."

Corvo was in a state of panic and excitement, the specific kind of nervous excitement where one opens up a rare and finite opportunity with only that very moment to act upon it, or else the opportunity shall never reveal itself again. His throat felt tangled, he couldn't even decide on how to start, and before that, he realized that Sombra was taking him inside the house. But he blocked any and all mental doubts and remembered the 'expected deduction,' and convinced himself that everything would play out in his favour.

A true shame, Discord, he thought. You should not have died like you did, but it happened, so now you will lay there, cold on the ground. Farewell, my friend.

The air was impressively clean in the house, and had a strange gravity to it. The kitchen was adjacent to the living room, displaying wooden cupboards, shelves, and a stone furnace, but the entire place was completely gutted, not a single item was left that wasn't nailed to something. The living room was also fairly empty and drab, only boasting a long oak table, with two chairs pressed opposite to each other at the very end, and in the space between the chairs was a chess board with a full set of organized pieces at the ready.

Right above the table there was a spot on the ceiling that looked to be paler than the rest of the visible paint round it, also with several holes ripped out. Corvo thought a chandelier used to hang there, but he could not know for certain.

As if seemingly agreeing without words both Sombra and Corvo sat down on the chairs, facing each other and the chess board—the latter of whom took a moment to glance out the window to his right: it was dark, but he could still make out the low hills and bent trees far away.

"You're white," said Sombra, smiling amicably. "Looks like you go first."

"Why are we playing chess to begin w—" Corvo began as he looked down, but was struck by the absence of his king. He glared disdainfully at Sombra. "What is this supposed to be?"

"I really should have organized my speaking points better," sighed Sombra with a thoughtful look on his face, as if he were contemplating defeat. "Let me tell you how this'll work. We're sitting in the southern region of Equestria, down the middle map-line or whatnot. At this point my smoke is forming an upward parabola, and its moving down on us quick," said Sombra with a sort of concern. "You do know what an upward parabola is, do you?"

"Yes, I understand something as basic as a parabola. Keep talking."

"Oh, good, just... you know," he coughed and retained a sharp focus in his speech. "I could estimate if you really insist, throw up a time—how long it'll take for the smoke to cover us. Maybe thirty minutes. It's only one or two dozen kilometers off from here. But adding in foliage could buy you some extra time."

"What the hell are you up to?" said Corvo with fury. Suddenly his eyes gleamed, he leaned back on his chair, and a crooked smirk appeared on his lips. "Ah—maybe I understand after all. I believe you about the smoke, you obviously want to get rid of me as soon as possible. But why not now? I cannot harm you, but you can kill me. What are you holding back, Sombra? If I had to guess you probably want to learn something from me. You're keeping me here, occupied with this bungled chess game, just to clear up your own scheme."

"And do you know what my scheme is?" reproached Sombra with an almost hysterical curiosity. A bitter chuckle escaped his mouth. "Heh, heh—I was about to reveal my scheme. I'd advise to not put yourself on a pedestal just yet, after all, you haven't scored any points in this battle. You wanna learn something from me too, eh? Is that so? We're both extractors. Sounds poetic! Heh, heh—but we'll only proceed with this conversation once you've retrieved your king. That's the only way you have to take me apart, to crush me like a cockroach. It's through the sheer will of a board game, the means to amplify determination—that is, the determination to kill me, both literally and metaphorically—that I see you walking out of here alive. But like I said, that's not going to happen. And so I... heh... I'll tell you where the king is!" His entire countenance suddenly resembled something of a hysterical fit, as though something snapped peevishly in him, precisely as he said those last few words, like he just couldn't stand the wait. "Upstairs, second room to the left! It's on the bed, right there on the bed, just waiting to be taken. Go on! Don't believe me? Time is slipping by, you know! Go grab that miserable piece, slam it down on its rightful square, a—"

Corvo stopped time right away, effectively freezing everything in place. He hurried himself, teleported up to the second floor and into the suggested room in a smooth instance.

* * *

Celestia, Serath, and the rest resumed their travel without much interruption. For the sake of brevity I won't give an account of each stop, what they said in what rooms, and the whole. Celestia teleported them five or six more times, and each jump seemed to get darker than the last—literally, as if Celestia's horn was getting weaker. But this wasn't the case exactly. It turned out that the underground, as it drew nearer to the Crystal Empire, really did resist magic. Nothing damaging, but nonetheless worrying.

But again, we don't need the details. Twilight's condition dominated her entire being from start to finish, and with the exception of certain spikes in pain, she kept quiet for the most part. The sight was particularly hard on Spike, for reasons that should be obvious. Serath told them of the fables he had learned as a boy, the typical hero mythology, where the knight would venture far from his village, slay the dragon, claim the gold, and so on. But Serath couldn't even come to terms with why—on what grounds, that's to say—was he relaying these old stories. For comfort, no doubt, but that hardly had a visible effect on the ponies. It didn't change the reality.

Unbeknownst to him, though, Luna took a great interest in these fables. But was it really 'interest,' the sort created by sheer boredom? This might be hard to explain, but it has always been my belief that the motivations which drive our actions are inconceivably more complex than our subsequent explanations for them; and so even the most mundane actions—such as taking interest in off-the-cuff fables—are simple at first, only to reveal that they were the product of a whole string of thoughts and ideas nested in a potential agenda. But we all have our own agendas, now don't we? You can't not have an agenda.

I apologize for the digression. We better get back to the story, notably, when they arrived at their destination.

At this point both Celestia and Luna were conjuring powerful lights from their horns: up close it was almost blinding, but upon taking a step or two away one's vision would be abruptly subsumed by darkness.

Once they had reached the last room—that is, the last room they intended—they started walking down the tunnel this time, on the lookout for a door. Applejack and Rainbow Dash both hoisted Twilight on their backs, with some moderate difficulty, but were soon off, and Serath was right next to Celestia.

"Shame that Corvo couldn't be here with us," said Celestia. "He can see in the dark, could have scouted ahead, if you catch my drift."

"He must be in a worse situation if he has confronted Sombra," said Serath with conviction. "That is his preliminary goal from what we can guess."

"That's most definitely his goal," threw in Luna, who had been averting her eyes from the sable walls. "Maybe this entire journey we have undertaken will become its own story, told through the generations of ponies to come."

"King Sombra really outdid himself this time," said Celestia. "In all my times of raising the sun I've never seen such an attempt to destroy Equestria before."

"Villains must be stepping up their game," remarked Pinkie Pie suddenly.

"He's definitely the worst of 'em," said Rainbow, frowning.

"I quite agree," put in Rarity. "Tirek, Queen Chrysalis, the Everfree Forest itself, even Discord at his lowest traits—none come to the levels of monstrousness that is King Sombra."

"You all speak about a hierarchy of villains?" asked Serath with great curiosity. "Fascinating. I myself believe that the capacity for evil exists within a number of stages. The more evil it is, the further at the bottom you are. I read that in a ballad."

"King Sombra must be stationed at rock-bottom then," said Luna.

"I look at it in a different light," said Serath in a low voice, as though he were confessing something.

Luna's ears perked, she looked at him like a complete stranger, turning her full attention to him. "You disagree?" she said slowly.

"The worst act of evil, in my mind, is intentional betrayal."

Luna looked to be entirely taken aback by the honesty in Serath's tone, which was lacking even a trace of sarcasm. She didn't want him to continue—it brought back memories of her Nightmare Moon days—and was unsure of how to word that. But before she could get a word out Serath continued:

"If we base evil on a hierarchy, I believe betrayal sits at the dark bottom. I do not mean that you misbehave by someone else's standards. I mean this: when you know that, by your own standards, you are doing something that is devious or malevolent or underhanded, and you know it, and you still do it—that is your own judgement you bear on yourself. If you look at why you do that, the longer you look at it the deeper a hole you dig. And believe me, people can recover from almost anything: injury, bullies, loss of property; but no one can recover from the betrayal of a loved one. When someone you have known all your life as a dear friend or a partner tosses you a foot in the grave, that seriously destroys the person. Sombra is the enemy who threatens your world, and so be wary of the snakes."

"Well struck," said Luna with a tense satisfaction. "Would Corvo agree with you?"

"He is mostly on the same page with me, about our capacity for doing wrong, but he takes very little interest in debating the topic, that is, about the aspects we do not see eye-to-eye on, much to my surprise."

Celestia halted, as did everyone else in her lead. They had suddenly reached the doorway.

"We're here," she said.

It led to yet another room, but this one in particular was narrower and more squared out, somewhat like a rectangular prism. While before the walls were made of flat stone, this room had been constructed out of crystal bricks, and although they did not glow, the change in aesthetic was pleasing. At the very end of the room stood a ladder, leading up to an entrance wedged into the ground.

Celestia at once recognized this location and announced that they were directly under the Crystal Empire, and more specifically, next to the Crystal Castle, about ten or so paces off.

"We made it!" cried Pinkie Pie, beaming.

"We're really here, huh?" said Applejack almost breathlessly. "Darn, maybe mah glass was half empty, but Ah was seriously startin' to have mah doubts if we ever could make it."

"Everypony, listen up," said Celestia importantly. She drew out the Crystal Heart from her saddlebag and held it up for all to see. "Our mission right now is to place the Crystal Heart directly under the castle. Once there it should activate its magic. The fate of Equestria hinges on this."

"I can't see a thing, sister," said Luna, who had used a scanning spell to see through the ceiling above them. "Nothing but black."

Twilight began groaning again, completely taking Rainbow and Applejack off guard. They carefully laid her down, but to their growing fear her groans grew louder, and at last she was shrieking in pain, covering all the ponies' faces with grim animation.

"We gotta act fast!" cried Spike in despair.

"Celestia, what was that spell you mentioned earlier?" inquired Serath anxiously, striding over to Twilight's side. "You claimed to have had something in store. I cannot tell how much more she can take."

A degree of extraordinary sadness seemed to resemble on his Celestia's face. She retracted the Crystal Heart, holding it close to her chest, wandered over to the ladder in spite of the pleas for help, like she couldn't hear a thing.

"There is no spell," she drawled out in a faint and exhausted voice. "You all should stay here."

"What?" said Luna instantly. "Sister, what are you talking about?"

"Yeah, what are you talking about, princess?" said Spike in surprise, stamping with both feet

"I never had a plan to dispel King Sombra's smoke," said Celestia, trying her hardest to go on. Her eyes were glittering and she breathed with difficulty. "To speak plainly, I'm the one who will charge through and place the Crystal Heart. I can hold it off for maybe a moment, but I can't promise anything else."

Everypony was stirred, looks of protest highlighting their features.

"Why would you bring us along if you wished to protect us!" reproached Luna hotly. "We could have gone off west, beyond the border."

"Pardon mah sayin', but Princess Luna's got a point," said Applejack supportively. "You don't need to do this by yerself."

"Truth is, I was afflicted by an internal debate all this time," said Celestia pitifully, her ears drooping. "Maybe I didn't think far enough, must have gone off the deep end, but I truly believed we'd all make it together. You could've stayed in the train, or ventured off to safety with Princess Luna's guidance. But"— notes of conviction rang in her voice —"I'm afraid we can't pull this off in one piece. I'm the only one who's powerful enough. I realize that now."

Serath, at last, got up, pale from fright; an imploring smile lighted up his face.

"I admire you, Celestia," he said. "You truly care about your ponies, you care sincerely, and... what else am I to add? I have no right to tell you what to do, but I implore you to have plans for tomorrow."

"I have no way of knowing how this'll turn out," said Celestia in a soft and, as it were, controlled voice. She frowned painfully as Twilight's shrieks grew louder, which immediately brought tears to her friends' eyes. "There's nothing any of you can do. If I push my magic to its limits I'll buy a second or two of protection form the smoke, and that's that." The glow of her horn intensified. "I'm going to teleport up there."

"I should have known," said Serath, leaning stiffly against the wall. "What could we do against Sombra's smoke? Perhaps we all went off the deep end together believing that."

"This wasn't part of the plan!" cried Luna, nearly spluttering at every syllable.

As Celestia prepared to take off the ponies broke out into desperate pleas. Serath merely bowed his head, with a look of defeat overlapping him.

An extraordinary and, you can say, contradictory change washed over Luna's precise position and posture. The reflection on her eyes were entirely unnatural, no way to tell how she really felt; her horn was not glowing, she didn't move an inch, the strains on her face resembling anguish: she had no idea what to do, as if she both hated her sister for pulling off such a stunt and completely accepted it asa necessary sacrifice.

If only Corvo hadn't left, swept by her mind in a sort of fury.

Suddenly Celestia summoned up a powerful surge of magic and, to everypony's shock, she teleported them all outside the room, far off down the hall, away from her. She heard multiple distant voices from them, shouting and weeping at the realization of what had happened.

Now that that was out of the way, Celestia looked up and spread her wings. She forced herself to breathe slowly, as to combat the shuddering in her shoulders. She was about to go out there, a mere second away, it was coming. It all boiled down to this moment, after all, which, for some reason, completely baffled her. Three-quarters of a second. Half. She was about to do it.

And right before that the intense gloominess on her face vanished, which resembled something of an unusual change. She kept staring at the ceiling, and her face brightened, as though she had nothing to fear. The trembles were gone, and she was in control of her emotions.

Celestia began laughing long but quietly to herself. She mused how ridiculous it all turned out to be, how ridiculous it was of her to have believed they could all fend off the black smoke; she went on laughing, pondering, and, getting the last chuckle out, blasted right out of there.

What she felt next, amid her waning magic, was seemingly the full force of a freight train; and she wondered if her eyes were closed, because everything was just as dark as when she had them open.

Author's Note

So, chapter 8 was initially going to be a part of this chapter, but due to pacing issues I decided to split them.

Chapter 8: Sombra Debates Corvo—The Expected Deduction

The door was gone, torn off its metal hinges, but he paid no mind to that. In fact, when Corvo saw the carved figure of a tiny king piece laying stone-still on a white-sheeted bed, and after he greedily took hold of it, his eyes had completely swept by a much larger figure right there in the corner of the room.

For the moment Corvo forgot that he had stopped time (which places tremendous amounts of stress on the body if held for longer than, say, thirty seconds), and observed the grim sight he missed.

A stallion, it looked to be, was laying flat on the wall, as though gravity had turned sideways. His neck was stretched, hanging his sunken face down onto his chest. He must have had quite the life under his belt: grey hair, apparently what survived on his face from age, covered his cheeks, much like sideburns. A black capotain hat rested directly below him. Upon closer inspection revealed a rough piece of rope tight round his neck, which extended through a cut-out hole in the ceiling.

Suicide? came to Corvo as he looked the dead pony up and down. Who is this, how did he hang himself, and when? I doubt it could have been any earlier than last week. Did Sombra do this? But why does it matter? However, a most curious effect was produced on his considerations after having stumbled upon this incident. He mechanically bent down to pick up the hat, and was surprised to find a note under it. He unfolded the paper and read it hastily:

Mine own life cannot beest w'rth t. Anon t's eith'r me 'r the King. T's the King. Thou art nothing who is't doth take the dark charm... So is the endeth.

While Corvo had been reading he gradually rose to full height, as a change came over his face. His only regret right now was not having studied Old English more in-depth when he was younger. Or was it contemporary English? Or something else he had forgotten? In any case, what he took from the letter was a blackmailed suicide, most likely, and definitely of the recent, but the whole motive seemed very distraught. That he couldn't figure out, nor did he have the time, as right when he was about to read it again his chest pulsed with a severe pain, and his entire body felt like it was burning. He dropped the letter and, gripping the chess piece, he teleported down the hall and into the first floor once again, all in a blind and fluid motion, without thinking about anything else.

He fidgeted back into his seat, as though he was about to act violently, and deactivated his scorching Mark. All at once when time resumed he inhaled loudly; for the first quarter of a second he could have sworn the world went by twice as fast than normal.

"—nd hocus pocus!" Sombra went on in his frenzied state, but shock was plastered on his face when Corvo quite harshly slammed the king right on its empty square. He was breathing heavily, his eyes twitched—looked to be on the verge of bloodshot—but he acted as though nothing had happened.

"Shall we weave to it?" he said in a deliberately pedantic voice.

What the—!" Sombra sputtered, not understanding Corvo's current position. At first he was in alarm, but his expression slowly swayed to a half-senseless grin. "W-ell—eh—why, damn—ha, ha, took me a bit to catch all that. I see you're bragging up a full team now. Heh, good." His eyes glowed mysteriously, he practically had quieted down, noticing nothing else but what they had started off with: the chess board. "So then, you make the initial move."

"Who was that pony?" said Corvo, still recovering from his exhaustion. He placed a pawn two paces ahead.

"I... huh? What pony?" said Sombra, genuinely taken aback this time, like a drunk who grew sober in an instant. "What are you talking about?"

Corvo stared hard at Sombra with distrustful eyes, reflecting his own confusion, unsure of what to respond with; but he passed from confusion to uncontrollable contempt, growing quite angry with him already. "The stallion upstairs, you damned lunatic! The old dog who was tossed under a rope."

"The rope? What are you... what... oh! Yes, yes, yes, yes!" cried Sombra as it all came to him. It seemed that, for a second, he sincerely had completely forgotten about that ordeal. "That 'old dog' as you called him, of course!" He slapped himself on the forehead. "The old-timer, that's him. Heh, heh," he once again delved into a sinister laughter, finally having taken the action of moving his own piece. "Pinned there like a, well, like a pin doll! I informed him of the specificities. Happened this night, believe it or not."

"I thought so, but what do you mean by specificities?" Corvo moved his knight, and for the rest of their long and, as is to be expected, diminishing conversation they resumed their play; and this all happened very lightly, without much mind put into the moves. I won't recount each and every move they made, as that would be unnecessary, although I might just bring up the most vital moments of the game, such as all the checks, the corner tactics, the taunts, and even the imminent checkmate, which I think there is one if I remember correctly.

"Well, it's of no consequence really, but if you want to know, it's when I arrived at this rock farm," said Sombra. His face was suddenly solemn and impressive, which gave him a positively malignant look. "I was in that level of preparation where I needed a place to hang around, any place would do. Came right by this house, thinking: 'Well, it could be worse.' It c-oul-d be worse! Heh, heh. That old dog—his entire family had left. No idea what he was still doing here. But when he saw me he immediately wanted to leave. I calmed his spirits, naturally, and we talked for who knows how long... ten minutes? Eh, whatever. And I, in a mathematically calm manner (that's how calm I was: it's on the level of mathematical calculation!), informed the dog that he should stay, and stay forever, and the rest is history. Didn't take much convincing on my part! The dog got so depressed he straight-off hanged himself," he added with a certain nonchalance. "I supplied the rope, and I supplied the idea. Do you understand now? Understand anything special?"

"Nothing special, save one little remark," replied Corvo at once. "You supplied him with the idea—did I get that right? Well, so you told that pony to kick the bucket? And he did it, just like that?"

"You'd be very surprised with how easy it is to turn a pony's heart cold. I laugh in mockery when I'm told that ponies love life. A wild notion, but one that's, of course, a characteristic feature, indirectly mediated by Princess Celestia."

"So you declare in argument that there is no value to life," retorted Corvo, firm in his wording. "Rather to the point, but I must stand on the opposition. Why are you doing all of this? Why brew up that deadly smoke, why kill ponies in the hundreds of thousands, why threaten to destroy my world as well? Feel free to correct me if I am way off base, but you spout off a lot of histrionics; nothing you say sounds logical."

"And what are you supposed to be: the arbiter of logic?" reproached Sombra while laughing his prolonged, impudent chuckle, looking boldly into Corvo's face. "Didn't we dispute this already? I think we did, didn't we? Well, you observed that I wanted to be the last pony alive when everypony else was dead."

"I absolutely and certainly cannot accept that."

"What is it you 'cannot'?—that you absolutely and certainly 'cannot'?"

"You yourself declared that it was an outright lie," said Corvo bitterly, who at this point was starting to act beyond of style. "You devil. Why not wander back to the darkness that initially spawned you!"

"Devil!" cried Sombra. "Why, oh why, Corvo, must you go and offend me like that? See, the things you call me! And I... eh—forget all that. Allow me, Corvo, though I'm a buffoon and I play the buffoon, yet I'm the character of honour, I want to speak my mind. It's true, I'm the soul of honour, while you're nothing but wounded vanity. Don't deny it! Maybe you came here to speak your mind, but for now allow me to speak mine."

"Maybe I came here to speak my mind?" echoed Corvo, which was a superb catch on his part, knowing exactly where the weak spots were. "So you really do not, in fact, know why I have come."

"Come on, go easy on me," said Sombra in an exhausted and caustic voice. "What do you want? Let's not forget you came looking for me, it wasn't the other way around."

"I was looking for a way to stop you and your evil plan."

"Tut—tut—tut! Sanctimoniousness and stock phrases! You're throwing down an old gesture surrounded by old phrases. Put a stop to me and 'my evil plan,' eh?"

Is he really going to underestimate me like that? thought Corvo. So be it, you miserable fool. This will be easier than I thought. "You mentioned back in Vanhoover that you lie to end all lies, and you do so to study the consequences of our actions. What do you mean by that? Why not elaborate since we're here?"

"I could tell it to you how it's supposed to be, get to the gist, but why not I talk about some past details first? Did you read the stories? A thousand years ago I undertook the Crystal Empire—out of passion—but Celestia and Luna came to the rescue. They locked me in a state of suspended animation within the glaciers for one thousand years. How was I meant to react to that?"

"Wait, wait, hold on," hurried in Corvo. "You undertook the Crystal Empire out of passion? How do you mean: out of passion?"

"For pity's sake, everything!" erupted Sombra with the most extraordinary feeling. "The Crystal Empire has played a great part in my life! It's cost me many bitter tears! It cursed me, calumniated me to the bone, spread stories about me all over the place! It's formed me, my very core, everything, everything! Ha, ha, what isn't out of passion?"

It must be noted that the Crystal Empire never had played any great part in his life, and he never had shed a bitter tear owing to it. The truth is that he never once cared for the place, it wasn't even an active goal in his mind to destroy it; the Crystal Empire's takeover a millennium back was propagated by sheer coincidence, namely, by his uncontrollable need to spread suffering to others and the Crystal Empire's proximity when he had these feelings. But he was so carried away by his pitiful self that he was for one moment almost believing it himself. He was so touched he was almost weeping. But at that very instant, he felt that it was time to draw back.

"Heh, I'll repeat, it was my fit of passion that compelled me to enslave the Crystal ponies."

"What the hell did you say!" Corvo snapped sullenly. "How can something as ridiculous as a 'fit of passion' come from your mouth? Are you trying to make me laugh?"

"So now it's your turn to take offence?" said Sombra shrilly, for some reason becoming extremely satisfied with himself. "Tut—tut! A drop of cognac or, in your case, whiskey would be nice to lower the tension."

But Corvo made no response.

"Hmm, listen, my dear, do you ever stop to question the why's, not the how's? I'm no scientist, at least not predominantly, but I know a thing or three about neuropsychology and, more practically, neurochemistry. What compelled me to beat down on the Crystal ponies and wage war against the princesses? Beyond the hysterics and the rationalizations, what drives us to do what we do everyday? Just what made me who I am? I won't go too far back and discuss my earliest memories, but it was the transmitters, exactly the transmitters!"

"Transmitters? You mean like brain signals?"

"Yes, that. I've come to a revelation: one thousand years ago, when I took it upon myself to dominate the Crystal ponies with my dark magic—and they never expected a thing!—when I laid out the entirety of my plans, when I controlled my subordinates, even which directions I looked and what food I ate, it was all mediated by my transmitters. I look to the right because, right in that moment, the transmitter relating to the muscles in my eyes which allow me to turn to the right activate, and only then. When I thought up of which spell to use on the ponies, and decided on a spell, the transmitter relating to said spell just so happened to race into my conscious before all the others. Just to expand: I know hundreds of spells, but when preparing my plan, most of the transmitters relating to all of those spells didn't wake up immediately, and so I couldn't choose them, even if I knew them, how to cast them. Our transmitters do everything, just about everything, for us in the most technical fashion: where we walk, what we say, the manner in which we map out our day—so what's there to feel sorry for? Why is there so much controversy revolving believing? Proofs are no help to believing, especially material proofs. Princess Celestia believed Princess Twilight would defeat me back then in the Crystal Empire, not because she's a hardcore rationalist who could only see the plausibility of my defeat, but because she wanted to believe. What does that mean: to believe? I might just play the contrarian because that's what the opposition does, because my transmitter for it overshadows all other transmitters. I'm a realist, but not a materialist. Heh, heh!"

"Why are you talking nonsense again?" broke from Corvo wearily. "None of that is original. The argument about the transmitters—I have heard that one before. It was the lecture given by a friend of mine this March."

"I'm glad we can be so informal with each other," said Sombra heartily.

"You damned fool! Now I remember: you took those exact same words from him, from Professor Edwin Arbmos. He spoke at length about how our brain chemistry is theoretically predictable. What, were you present during his lecture? I already know you snuck into my world for two years, but I think you were following me, too. Do you suppose I should stand on ceremony with you for discussing transmitters? None of what you said is provable. Are you going to go off on philosophy again? If you cannot say something concrete, then do not bother; talk of something amusing instead. Why not talk gossip?"

"Well, maybe not gossip, but close enough. I'm listening to you, and I've begun to take notice that you really have considered talking to me sincerely. Right here, when I stay with you from time to time, my life gains a kind of reality and that’s what I like most of all. You're treating this conversation like something very real, and that puts a smile on my face. I really do care."

"What else am I to do but converse with you sincerely? Play chess in complete silence? Allow me to guess: did the transmitter relating to 'passion' and 'fits' demand that you take over the Crystal Empire? Let me guess a second time: did those same transmitters tell you to spread that lethal smoke all over Equestria?"

"I'm thrilled that you managed to catch on!" laughed Sombra blandly. "When I was in your world, in Dunwall, I spent an enormous amount of time in the library. I read a great deal of books, all the ones recommended by academics. In one of those books the author brazenly declares: 'Any act done out of love is beyond good and evil.'* Imagine my surprise, the unimaginable artfulness on my face when I read that. So I went on thinking, that since I may only organize my transmitters, and can't dictate them directly, my acts of love are injunctions. What is good and evil, by the way? I'm evil, and Celestia is good? That's no fair. What I do as a product of love is just as affectionate in nature as what she might do. Love is all the same, just oriented in different proportions. If my love leads me to murder, who's to say Celestia's love is any better? Does she have the 'good' transmitters?"

Sombra said that he spent a lot of time in a library, thought Corvo. What is that supposed to mean? If he was in a public library why would no one see him? Did he use an invisibility spell, or better yet, did he assume human form? The latter isn't too much of a stretch, adding everything else in.

"You want to know what makes you evil, Sombra?" said Corvo, smirking. "You massacre innocent ponies in the six or seven digits. That creates chaos, which in turn shakes the equilibrium of society. Your 'love' for evil is a parasitical problem; and what better way to remove parasites than to exterminate them?"

"What sort of rebuttal is that?" Sombra was frowning. "Your moment of weakness, eh? You scold me, you even threaten me! Why are you so cruel, Corvo?"

"Would you like me to tell you why I came looking for you?" laughed Corvo; but at the same time a shadow went over his pale face. "To tell you the truth, I myself am still trying to find the answer. Call it intuition, I came here out of sheer intuition. But I do have a reason, my brain is screaming at me right now. My whole thought process, the uninterrupted sum of its influence, was made up, it created a result, and upon that result I decided to abandon the ponies. It is almost like I'm unconscious of it, that I searched for you because 'passion' rushed into my heart. I was so inspired, and to such a degree, that I went right along with this unexplainable cogitation to find you. And yet as of now I am still trying to figure this all out."

It should also be noted that this result Corvo is referring to, this inspired passion, was in fact the expected deduction: that is, a complicated deduction, but one which carried a delayed reaction. We will get to that later on.

Sombra was listening attentively, filled with an ironic righteousness that reflected in his piercing gaze. He laughed and said: "Ha, well then—well, well—so tell me this, Corvo, were you overtaken by a fit of passion, just like me?"

"A fit of... passion?" said Corvo with a long stare, as though this were the first time he ever heard of such a phrase. He began to shudder. "No, no, why would I be overtaken by something so fantastical, so superstitious? Are you daft? I was not talking about 'fits of passion' or whatever you mean; I just felt sorry for Celestia. That is all."

"In that case, I shan't altogether be sorry, for then my object will be attained," said Sombra, feeling all traces of mockery leave his self-complacency. "Joking aside, it doesn’t matter to me, scold if you like, though it’s better to be a trifle more polite even to me."

"Scold you?" laughed Corvo. "I scold myself for being here."

"If you scold yourself then it's to my credit," said Sombra with dignity. "Ha, ha, why are we digressing all of a sudden? You don't want to admit your fits of passion? Fine, leave it as it is."

"Do not let me discourage you. What else did those 'fits of passion' make you do? For starters, how did you get into my world?"

"Using my own magic, of course! Dark magic has a unique reaction with the Outsider's magic, that being the little mark on your hand. I understand why you came to Equestria in the first place: stop the upcoming war between our planes of existence. That was all true, of course, and to my convenience. Your initial presence broke me free from those glaciers, I followed you back right under the Outsider's nose, and I managed to engineer a magical mirror, and stole the Crystal Heart during your second visit. Funny, isn't it? Princess Celestia caught on, she secretly took notice of my mysterious absence (although she couldn't do much, given the two year wait) and—"

"Damn it, I know all of that already," interposed Corvo. "Why go on and on with your mouth about what I'm very well familiar with? This is nothing new, you are really just offering me a carcass of these tepid facts which we have all had burned into our brains thanks to you. Are you supposed to be raving, or what? Are you sure you did not latch onto a fit of redundancy, rather than one of passion?"

"You're no better!" cried Sombra excitedly. "What about you, Corvo? What are your fits of passion, eh?"

"There are no 'fits of passion,' you damned fool," said Corvo severely, as though he had swallowed something bitter. "All you have done up until now is prattle, you prattle on about pseudoscience, 'fits of passion' make no sense whatsoever, it bears no influence in the scientific circle. Precisely what are you aiming for? To throw me off my feet by convincing me I do everything out of love, that my actions are all based on 'transmitters' related to affection? Of all the things you could have told me, out of all the thoughts, you chose the stupid ones. That is active decision making, not pseudoscientific transmitters. You are awfully, unbearably stupid. What am I to do, just what am I to do?"

"Okay, okay, let's put fits of passion down on the sidelines!" cried Sombra, trembling all over with animation. "Heh, let's talk about the devil in all our hearts."

Corvo made no response again.

"Okay... okay... we've all got those little demons in our hearts, don't we? We sure do! And I know you know that: our capacity for evil, the most vile atrocities, all available within the back of our minds."

"Why would I know that?" said Corvo wearily.

"Who doesn't know about our capacity for evil? Our friends tell us all the time! And they repeat it to us, just to hammer the nail home!"

Serath told me that, thought Corvo, much to his surprise. He described the infinite capacity for evil we all hold. I was skeptical at first, but... did I believe him? I think not, or maybe I did. Did Sombra overhear our conversation back then? Sombra predicted our actions perfectly and planned accordingly, as I explained to Discord. So Sombra clearly knows about Serath, though I doubt he is willing to admit it. May as well try...

"Sombra," began Corvo, "I need to know for certain: is Luna under your control? Back in the illusion, in Canterlot Castle, did you put her under a spell of some sort?"

"Wh-at?" pronounced Sombra, blinking to make sure he still had his senses. Suddenly a crooked, ambiguous smile slowly contorted on his face. "Heh, heh—ha, ha, ha! Corvo, is that why you came looking for me, to find answers to that kind of allegation? You really know your comedic value, eh?"

"Is that all you have to say?"

Sombra sighed. "If you really want an answer, then: no. Princess Luna isn't under my control. If I could manipulate an alicorn like that any smart pony would go for Princess Celestia, too. And I think Princess Celestia would notice if her sister was working against the good of the country."

"I thought you would say that," said Corvo unimpressively, typical of a poor relation. "Check."

"A masterful gambit!" laughed Sombra, moving a piece in his turn. "There, protected by my bishop now. Forced to move back or I'll claim your queen."

"Tell me this, if nothing else: what exactly does that smoke do when it consumes a pony, or a person? We are all avoiding it as if it were the gaseous form of lava. Is that it?"

"Wouldn't you like to know. Eh, fine, I'll be blunt: it destroys all the aspects of the body which enables you to physically function. Think of it as a super acid. A single second in its grasp and you're done for, I'm afraid."

"You should have produced a greater effort then. Your attempts to kill me and the princesses are lamentable."

"Corvo, my dear acquaintance, above all things I want to behave like an honourable pony and to be recognized as such," Sombra began in an access of deprecating and simple-hearted pride. "This genocide I'm initiating—it's about the journey, not the destination. Maybe you expected something a little less quaint."

"Why the hell would genocide be perceived as quaint?"

"Why wouldn't it?" said Sombra in return, his face opening up to genuine surprise. "I mean... first of all, first of all, do you know what quaint is?"

"Why would I not know what quaint is? A child's vocabulary right there."

"Well, if you read history, Equestrian history, it's quite the bloodbath. Over nine hundred wars have been recorded, either due to territorial reasons or tribal hatreds, especially the pegasi and unicorns. There've been genocides in the past, I'm not the Ur-example. But ever since Princess Celestia and Luna took the reins it's gotten a lot quieter. Running a genocide is very old-fashioned." Sombra looked up thoughtfully for a moment. "Hmm, could be one of the reasons why I'd release my smoke."

"Yes, of course. It makes sense you would think that."

"Ha, ha, quaint, vert quaint! Goes to show the march of time, doesn't it? Our lives are like specks, gone in the blink of an eye when put up against the backdrop of the cosmos. Billions of years go by, and what about me?—Celestia?—Luna? We've been around for over a thousand years, but compared to several billions? An uneducated comparison at best. In all those years, how long did it take? How long till we got hold of ourselves and built civilization?"

"Who are we to know?" mused Corvo. "The historians have been keeping busy with all the work."

"But maybe you'll never find out. Corvo, are you afraid of dying?"

"What a painfully stupid question," reproached Corvo venomously. "Most everyone is afraid of dying when the time comes. You fool!"

"You're scolding again?" said Sombra, lowering an eyebrow. "I didn't ask out of sympathy. You don't have to answer."

"You already told me that you fear death."

Sombra suddenly began laughing, with careless and sharply impolite eyes staring straight down at Corvo. "Ah, that's right. I'm afraid of dying. But I am also afraid of a certain discovery we ponies have made, and by the looks of it, humans have made the same discovery a long time ago. Who knows how much I'd give to strangle the first being to have discovered this particular thing. Can you guess what that is? No, no, I won't tell you, you have to guess, toss up an answer."

"How am I to know? Territory?"

"Not even close!" Sombra laughed again. "Come on, dust off that brain of yours. It isn't too hard now."

"My bad," muttered Corvo wearily, as though his tongue were heavy. He rubbed his face and sat up straighter, and went on: "You are scared of the grave, you also want to kill everyone. In addition it sounds like you hate this so-called 'discovery.' Er..." Corvo stopped suddenly, seeming struck.

"You don't look very good," said Sombra, and a line of pleasure appeared on his lips. "Headache?"

"Shut up, you fool!" Corvo suddenly snapped.

"You keep calling me that, and look at the good it's done you." But then a strange and deliberate change assumed on Sombra's face. He still kept his devilish smirk, his eyes softened noticeably, readily reacting to Corvo far more clearly. "This time I'll act honestly and explain what I mean. I was saying before that I'm very fond of all the archaic violence scattered throughout history. We ponies have changed immensely, and the rate is going faster than anything I've ever seen before. It's amazing, really! But wars are no good for the future, especially the near future. You see, that's why we avoid wars nowadays, and why I brought it up in the first place: it's to no one's benefit. Not the future!"

"We have known about the future for quite a while now—millions of years, in fact."

"But isn't that such an enigma on its own?"

"The fact that we know about the future? Possibly. Real life is an enigma. Is that what you were upset about: that we discovered the future?"

"No, but close. We discovered time," Sombra was speaking quickly, his face somewhat flushed. "No other animal is conscious of the fact that they're conscious, absolutely no other animal. But what about intelligent beings like humans and ponies? Give a wolf twenty pounds of meat and he'll eat it all without stopping. Animals don't plan for the future, but we do. We're all too conscious, we're self-aware, we can bargain with the future. For pity's sake, what a powerful tool: the ability to bargain with the future, as if it was a person! Nothing is more astounding than bargaining with the future! The idea that we can interact and understand the future is partly from the moment we became conscious, and what a moment it must've been! It was a developmental stage on the way to even being able to say the word 'future.' It boggles my mind how, in the span of six million years, we somehow, along the road, started to call ourselves self-aware and bargain with the future. And we have no idea where these incomprehensibly sophisticated ideas come from."

Sombra was shaking all over, his eyes burned with extreme excitement.

Corvo even found himself mildly amused and added: "Yes, we can indeed bargain with the future. Just like sacrifice, we give something up to better our lives round the corner."

"Yes, yes, yes, yes!" Sombra sputtered, exerting himself as not to get too distracted. "Sacrifice! That's just what I was thinking!"

"Even in the most ancient of times there were sacrifices. That is, sacrifice something of high value, like a pure-white goat, to the deities above the sky. Well after we obtained perfect consciousness we dealt with bargains for the future using sacrifices."

"Ha, that's all different, it's all been changed!" laughed Sombra with a sort of insistent obstinacy. "Do you know how much blood was spilt before we, the intelligent beings, were able to sacrifice abstractly instead of killing something? For pity's sake, we had to act it out: 'The gods above enjoys the blood you shed, they're happy with it.' We went with that idea for who knows how long. Fifty thousand years? Hundred thousand years? We killed in the name of decorum before we got anywhere near the idea that sacrifice can be in the abstract. So tell me: when did we learn that we can sacrifice in the abstract? On what grounds did it ever occur to us? Consider the smoke I'm spreading a sacrifice: Equestria for the truth! I can't love a pony up-close. In the abstract, sure, but not up-close, it's impossible. And so if my affection (which, let's not forget, transcends good and evil, because those are too up-close) is of the most abstract nature, it's only reasonable to believe that I can affectionally spread the smoke and no pony may hold a complaint about morals. They'll fight back, of course, because self-preservation is the instinctive response, there's nothing more rational than self-preservation. But why are you fighting back against me, to save Equestria and vanquish my smoke, my dark magic? Is it because you don't think my sacrifice is abstract enough?—because you and Celestia have made up your verdicts: that I'm evil and she's good, so the latter must win by default? Are you using morals to stand against evil, or do you stand against evil because everypony, yourself included, wants to live in the end? You see, you see! Wanting to live is concrete, it's the bargain of the future, it's intrinsic; but using a coward's rulebook of morals, to defeat me because 'it's the right thing to do,' and nothing more, is in the abstract. When sacrifice involved ritualistic killings that was all we knew, and so I declare in the present: all I know is that type of sacrifice. I spread my smoke because I blur the difference, not because I'm placed on one side of a good-and-evil binary argument. That's to imply, I do what I do because Princess Celestia would tell you: 'We have to defeat the villains; it's the right thing to do.' In that case how can you call me evil, if I act on my own affections? If Princess Celestia conceded that she acts on her morals just to keep on living, and not just append the phrase 'it's the right thing to do,' I'd retreat my smoke and give up, I'd do so in the blink of an eye, because only then would she be justified. But no, ha, ha! That isn't the accepted truth! And so I'm still standing, at the ready to bring Equestria with me to the abyss."

"Check," said Corvo, with a smile of hatred "Eh, interesting premise, but you hold a double standard: if you do what you do out of affection, due to your own subjective sense of good, then that, too, is placed within the realm of abstractness; and by your own logic, you have no foundation to say we are unjustified in our attempt to stop you, since it no longer matters if it stands beyond good and evil or not. As such, you're full of holes. You have no idea how to argue, only that you want to commit genocide because"— his eyes suddenly gleamed —"you, Sombra, are a murderous hypocrite, an insane waste of life in every possible manner. Nothing more than a miserable, stupid murderer, and nothing less."

"You upbraid me every moment with being stupid," said Sombra severely and bitterly. "Intelligence isn't everything. I've got a kind and merry heart, I haven't insulted you once. I'm not trying to dispute your own philosophical reflections, whatever those are, I'm just explaining mine to you. Is that bad?"

"Maybe not, that is to say, not unless you break free from check," said Corvo impressively. "You are insufferably incompetent at this game. I have played ten-year-olds smarter than you."

Sombra moved a piece, only to lose his queen and be placed in check once again.

"You know, I always took it that the king and queen are a realistic representation of marriage," said Sombra, smiling comically as though he had forgotten everything they've been talking about. "The king has to take one step at a time, but the queen's crazy—she can go anywhere. Ha, ha... eh, what? Not a funny joke? Hey... hey! Are you sleeping!"

"I might well be," replied Corvo with a rude smirk.

"Heh, I once thought that, should the universe ever collapse on itself, the old morality would begin anew."

"That is all very charming," sighed Corvo, "but are you going to play or not?" Sombra moved a piece and the game resumed normally. "And new morality, you say? You cannot even swindle without a moral sanction. To hell with your ideas!"

"To hell with my ideas?" said Sombra, looking ironically at Corvo. "Whatever for? I guess they're a tad underused, probably even out of impracticality, not originality, strictly speaking. Heh, fine as it stands. My ideas are bad, they're unintelligent, I'll give you my admission there. But how about we bring up another topic? I like what you said there about owing to a moral sanction. I believe we all need approval to do what we really want. Be it the official law, or a personal philosophy, or by your own spirits—it's all very cowardly, in my opinion."

"Why would the law be cowardly?" asked Corvo.

"Well, I—ha, ha," he once more broke out into a frantic laughter. "All you've gotta do is take a long look around. On the outside ponies are good, oh, but on the inside who knows what they're like. It sounds insane, but it's actually very common for the average pony to think about committing violence or even killing somepony they hate. How many repulsive, dirty, downright dangerous thoughts do ponies (and people) think up on their own, in the privacy of their heads? Imagine the unforetold embarrassment if everypony could read every other pony's minds? Priceless, isn't it? Ha, ha!"

"Good thing we do not act out our conscious desires like uncivilized animals," said Corvo as though brooding, yet smiling all the same, "otherwise whenever a man saw a good-looking woman walking down the street we'd have a massive problem."

"Just what I was thinking!" laughed Sombra, his eyes gleaming. "We, as a society, keep to a set of agreed-upon morals as a means to not do whatever we want. But I repeat: cowards!" he exclaimed furiously. "Whenever a pony refrains from committing an immoral act it's not because it's 'wrong,' but more along the lines that they're too scared to do what they want, and so they cowardly hide under the guise of morals. Most of what you call morality isn't morality at all, it's just you being too afraid to do what you want because you're too weaselly to admit that. You say you don't do those things because you're 'moral,' but it isn't true. You'd love to do them if you were brave enough. But you aren't. Ponies don't love life, they're terrified of life, but they're too terrified to properly come to terms with it. They pretend to be good for not doing what they really want to do."

"I see. You spread this smoke because you refuse to play by those rules. You do what you desire."

"You're not a saint either," said Sombra, inclining his head mysteriously. "You've killed folk en masse in your world—masqueraded as the epitome of justice."

Corvo stopped smiling, as though horribly depressed, his face looked to have resembled an uncomfortable upheaval, involuntarily keeping his sight on the chess board.

Sombra, far too distracted and carried away by his own eloquence, continued with a twisted smile: "But I paid attention to the details. That's what I do best, Corvo: I look at the details and I remember them. Your deeds as the masked vigilante—the 'Wandering Stranger,' heh, heh, heh—they're slowing to a crawl. You've gotten less enthusiastic. In consequence, your killings are no longer a moral obligation, but instead you do them begrudgingly. Am I right in saying that? I mean, I don't actually know, it's a guess on my part. Heh, heh, heh, but I've noticed it. What is it? Do you hate your city or something? Do you no longer care? When I sent you that letter you came back to Equestria all too fast, like you were waiting for a reason to return. It took you less than a day even! With a letter as cryptic as mine there's no way you jumped to the conclusion about Celestia so quickly. In spite of—"

"Be quiet, deceiver!" Corvo interrupted feverishly. "You spoke correctly: it is a mere guess, you don't really know. So stop with the frivolous hogwash."

"Frivolous!" exclaimed Sombra. But then his face took on an expression of resolution. "Hmm, I did poke your principles a little too sluggishly there. Sorry, should've done a finer job. But back to moral sanctions: do you understand my position on it?"

"I hardly agree with you," drawled out Corvo, his eye-lids apparently heavier than usual. "Our own personal sense of right and wrong exists to settle the suffering we endure in our lives. Nothing to do with cowardice."

"You make a terrific point there. The suffering we've got to endure... heh. Consider that another potential reason for why I'd spread my dark smoke: to amplify everypony's suffering. No, no, no—no. I don't do it out of spite, I do nothing out of spite, it's foolish, very, very foolish. However, to stand as the last pony when all others are dead, it gives life some meaning. Life is directionless if others stand next to you."

"What am I to say to that? Go ahead and feel resentful about life if you'd like. Why in hell would I care?"

"Because there's so many reasons to be resentful about life!" cried Sombra harshly. "Everyone you know is gonna die; you're gonna die; everything is unfair and unpredictable and out of your control; there'll be suffering along the way, a lot of it you don't deserve; and most of it unnecessary. That's the tragedy! Unnecessary suffering is the worst kind of suffering because it doesn't need to exist. And yet it does, all due to the ponies around you!"

"What about it?" laughed Corvo sarcastically, almost with hostile feeling. "We deal with unnecessary suffering in life—true. So your response is genocide? Rather than reduce your miserable problems you complain about them and make it worse for yourself? You truly are the most pathetic, ridiculous being I have ever had the displeasure of laying my eyes on."

"And you know how to reduce the suffering in one's life," observed Sombra sententiously. "But it's the unnecessary suffering, precisely the unnecessary suffering, that strikes me in the heart. Why does it happen!" He looked to be on the verge of weeping, as though he had not listened to Corvo's insults. "Let me tell you: it's bad conduct. Bad conduct from us ponies. My response is to make the suffering necessary. They all run away, evacuate from Equestria, all in order to live, to breathe the clean air tomorrow. That's necessary! Ha, ha, it's interesting how ponies believe suffering is what gives their life purpose, but the suffering to which they attach said purpose is unnecessary since it can be gotten rid of with a change of behaviour. I'd assume that purpose is unnecessary, superfluous even, because who would keep their suffering (ninety-nine percent of which is unnecessary) if it could be disposed of or changed irrevocably? For what other reason should I carry out my genocide? Suffering is unnecessary, and therefore existential meaning is inessential. Ironic, isn't it?"

"Now you use circular reasoning," said Corvo, somehow troubled. "Existentialism is meaningless because of its nature?—that is what you declared. That nature being your own bungled attempts to tie necessity for suffering to the question of meaning. What a nonsensical correlation. By that logic I suppose we ought to refrain from warming our houses, as they sometimes lead to unnecessary house fires, and hearths are hardly the paramount feature of a house. Now I know the reason behind my headaches: your inexpert rhetoric."

"Again with the cruel chastising!" cried Sombra crossly, but, twisting his mouth, he quite literally forgot about his crossness at once and smiled maliciously. "Go, you say what you will, and I'll be honest enough to accept your criticisms. I could never be angry with you, Corvo. You're on the watch, you've come to stop me, but first, you've gotta learn something from me."

"And you need to learn something from me, otherwise why keep me alive?" said Corvo, returning the malicious smile.

"Can't say if you're convinced about that yourself," said Sombra with notes of disappointment in his voice. "Eh, what now? You want to dissuade me from something? I think not."

"Then you do not mean to take to proceedings?"

"Um! Wait, what do you mean by that? What proceedings? Eh... Corvo?"

"Ah, checkmate!" said Corvo triumphantly, knocking off Sombra's king with a knight.

"Oof!" guffawed Sombra, completely taken for surprise. He stared at the chess board wildly, surveying each piece with precision, and at last he looked up and heaved a deep sigh. "That's kind of a shame. I could've sworn I'd be the victor. Oh well, such is life; I mean, I only started playing chess recently, so I'm not very good. I hear Princess Celestia is a master, though."

"I can attest to that," said Corvo. Damn it, have they not placed the Crystal Heart yet? They should have had more than enough time. What in the world is happening?

Sombra looked out the window for a moment, observing that it was darker than before, which satisfied him greatly. Turning round he said to Corvo in a confidential half-whisper: "Earlier you made an inquiry about Luna's mental state, if she really was worth trusting, or if she's just following my orders and giving away your position at every step. I can give you a sufficient answer to that—radically sufficient, in fact."

Corvo raised a skeptical eyebrow but leaned in, listening intently.

And Sombra suddenly jerked, as if he experienced an unwarranted fit, violently hurling the board from the tables, scattering the pieces. His twitching face highlighted a maniacal vigour, his eyes burned.

"Of course Luna was under my control!" he gave a piercing cry, followed by an incoherent laugh. "Of course she's been double crossing you all, especially that dear Celestia! Ha, ha, ha, ha!" He fell back down, trembling from stimulated emotion. "I'm well aware of your friend, Serath. I know he's here. I definitely know about your group plans, in tremendous detail, from the moment you left for the Crystal Empire to your ride to that shabby little cabin. I know how long you stayed in that shelter, and for what purpose. Princess Luna has been telling me all this time. I've been well informed on just about ev-er-y-thing! Everything!" He was wheezing. Every fiber of his body shook joyously.

"I... I was right..." said Corvo monotonously, as though he didn't believe it himself. He felt a tension build up within him, right in his center, leaving him terribly cold, almost like it were about to stop his heart.

"And you want to know how?" cried Sombra, terribly pleased with himself and the whole situation. "You want to know how Luna and I have been keeping in touch all this time, for the past few days? There's this grey book, a grey book with a black numerical plastered right on it. You must've seen it, you had to. I specifically made sure to leave it out during the illusion I trapped you all in, I wanted you to get a good look, to set your eye on the thing as a distraction. You see, my dear Corvo, there's actually two grey books, the second one's in my possession. It works as a two-way system: write something in one and it'll appear on the other, and vice versa. A perfect match! Ha, ha, ha, ha!"

But every feature on Corvo's pale and indeterminate expression remained locked with a sort of incredulity. His whole posture, stone-still as first, slowly rose from his seat, and with a mysterious air looked ominously and darkly at Sombra.

"You've been fearing the unknown for a long time, that which lurks underneath," went on Sombra nonchalantly. "Whenever Luna had some alone time—and if you've noticed, she must've had the decent amount—she would write to me. It's all been according to plan, Corvo, my scheme is indestructible. Ha, ha! How does it feel? I'm willing to bet Princess Celestia failed, she's failed a long time ago, and you've been grasping at the invisible straws."

I believe that now is the best time to reveal the "expected deduction" that had been tormenting Corvo up until this point.

That is, Corvo roared with laughter at once, and he laughed frantically, maniacally, and with no cohesive direction, for what felt like an eternity, the entire time his eyes glittered contemptuously, overlapped with violent tremors. Sombra stood watching, seemingly struck, and deathly pale. At last Corvo ceased his laughter and breathed hard several times.

"Sombra," broke from Corvo slowly, with a horribly condescending air, "are you absolutely positive Luna was able to inform you of everything, including today? I see it in a different light: you were waiting for me here, she must have told you of my departure, and you guessed I would come."

"Don't—jump to conclusions, Corvo," said Sombra through tight lips. He started to sweat at the temples.

Corvo once again fell into an almost childish bout of giggles, evidently pleased with himself in the highest magnitude. He couldn't contain himself and, with stutters of elation in his voice, he continued with an unprecedented malign smile: "Let me tell you something, Sombra, and believe me, this 'something' will indeed ruin you, it will ruin you to oblivion. Call it a 'fit of passion,' but not only did I suspect Luna's submission to your will and magic, but I acted as if it were true; and on top, I knew you two must have been contacting each other, as I earlier deduced that your plans only add up with knowledge of Serath's presence, which, as it so happened, was a sheer accident, far removed from your initial plans. Unfortunately you overlooked the magic mirror and it sucked him in, at last suspending the magical reaction to equilibrium. And now? Now let us get to the present. I abandoned the ponies, but I did so without telling them, I remained vague, but I went further: I disappeared at no warning, that is, when Luna least expected it, for the entire time I acted within the boundaries of the group. I imagine it must have been quite the shock. I used the suddenness to my advantage: Celestia was going to travel underground back to the Crystal Empire, and she would always be on the move, so the last time Luna had the window to write to you was right before I left, as she would not get any other chance. That is why I waited, waited until the very end to make my move. That must have terrified you, it must have thrown you into a stupor, no longer receiving confirmations to your orders. You see, with my absence and Discord's—a benefit that he came—Celestia would hold no brakes, she'd race to the Crystal Empire as fast as she dared. By all probability this scenario left you and Luna in respective awkward positions: that is, you did not have enough time to instruct Luna on what to do (which would have been easier, since it is far more discreet to read a book rather than to write in one) because uncertainty clouded your judgement, and so by the time you predicted that I was after you, and when I arrived, it was all too late. Luna was forced to act on her own, and Celestia... ha, ha, you know, I legitimately trusted Celestia. I put my faith in the chance that she would come to out-wit her sister. Due to the lack of communication between you two, your entire plan went awry, and that left you blind ever since then. What is to be done in the end? Celestia will reach the Crystal Empire, either now, in a minute, an hour—as long as I'm here, you have no hope of stopping her, of reaching her in time. It is also the reason why you have not killed me yet: given this disturbance you wished to know what I was up to, what I had gone through to arrive at this rock farm, and for whatever reason."

"Then that settles it!" seethed Sombra, and a slow, impolite grin, one that represented a new stage of desperation, spread over his face. "What are you waiting for, Corvo? The last thing I'll do now is muse. But... but... ech!" He looked round, as if expecting there to be someone else in the room. "True, everything you say is the axiom of truth! Now, however, I've no need for you, you told me everything. I'm not gonna kill you, though—meaning I won't kill you myself. My black smoke is close, ve-ry close, just a few seconds away, in fact. You're a dishonourable warrior, nothing but the paragon of disgraceful sport! You can't kill me, Celestia is far off, who knows how far off, and in a few seconds we'll be buried in the smoke. It's here, listen, listen, do you hear it?—hear it? H-heh, h-eh..."

"The parallels are quite amusing," laughed Corvo with genuine happiness. "Oh, where is the silver lining you long for? Is it here? Well, I too am looking for a silver lining, but even if I die now, what difference shall it make? You lost, Sombra. I may die, but your fate does not change: you lost. And the upshot ought to lean one way or the other, and I believe that I will walk out of here alive. How long has it been since our chess match began? Half an hour, I think. I could have gone for longer, but what else am I to do? What is to be done in the end anyway?"

"I didn't lose! You lost! You! You! You l-os-t!" cried Sombra, as though he were incredibly drunk. And for an instant he truly believed that: the house shook, piles of dust poured from the ceiling, the scattered chess pieces jumped up and tinkled further apart form one another. A web of cracks appeared on the window to the left, bending it inwards, and when it shattered the black smoke poured in at an alarming rate.

What came next occurred so quickly, with such shocking timing, and with no warning, not even a far-away signal, that I can only describe the event as the characters experienced it.

It seemed as if a giant ray of white light streamed into the house, covering every inch of every object, but this was in a flash. The air altered to an alien geometry, completely perplexing them both, and the unexplainable bends of light and visual angles in the air was coming from the window. The smoke slowed down, surrounded by crystallized images.

This all culminated into a sweeping shockwave that detonated among them, gleaming with magical shards; it sped far past the cobblestone house, way off into the distance, and the smoke was nowhere to be seen.

When the sound died to a clear silence Corvo was positively stunned. Then it came to him: Celestia, Serath, the ponies—they succeeded. It was a wall of crystal light that scanned right past the territory, and hardly anything looked black anymore. In fact, what stunned him even more, producing bewilderment in his now-glowing countenance, was his whole body: it radiated light, and glitters flashed all over him. And more surprisingly, he was partly transparent.

"Ha, ha!" he cried in earnest, his voice carried some new-found strength. "I'm made of crystals! I feel light as a feather, too. My coat looks like it measures two thousand carats! Unbelievable!"

The crystallized effect on his figure seemed to have subtly altered his attitude, too. He was nearly shaking in rapture, his mind glowing and heart nearly weeping for joy, quite uncharacteristic of him, if I may add.

In fact, he almost forgot about Sombra. His eyes immediately took on a searching look; he wandered round the table and, lying there on the floor, shaking and groaning pitifully, was a creature that barely even resembled Sombra. It was him, there was no doubt there, but he had shrunken somewhat. His face was sallow and thinner, the mane on his head was almost gone, reduced to wisps of blackness. His horn was broken off, the top end nowhere to be seen.

"Pfft!" scoffed Corvo carelessly. "Pathetic. This is who you really are?"

Sombra weakly lifted his head. "Please..." he spoke in a slow, shrill voice, seeming to move his tongue with difficulty. "You... beat me... I-I-I-I'll ad-mit it... please..."

"So that is how it is, huh?" tittered Corvo. He took a second to look round him, whistled proudly, and looked back at Sombra. "I take it that that magical blast was not part of your plan. Am I correct? Well, in any case, a disaster on your part. Luna is no longer under your control. But, er, I must ask: does she still retain the memories of helping you, or is all of that wiped? Who knows the guilt she'll feel if the former is the case."

"I... I don't k-know!" squeaked Sombra in a childish, anxious voice. "B-but you beat... me! Go... take me t-to Princess Ce-les-ti-a..."

Corvo was ready to consider the proposition, but right then and there an eerie change went over his expression: the brilliance on his face began to fade, gradually overcome by a grey shadow. His confident, sensible smirk was replaced with a scowl, and his eyes burned like hot coals.

"Oh dear, what a terrible mess we have here," he said gravely and emphatically. "I ought to clean it up." And he suddenly drew out his folding sword, which gleamed in response to the glow of his coat.

Blood-curdling horror was the effect produced on Sombra's sallow face. He attempted to cry out, but coughed up blood, and could only moan in a severely faltering voice.

"I don't wanna die! I don't wanna die!" he kept imploring hopelessly, exerting himself to stand up.

"Is self-pity a new habit you obtained today?" said Corvo. He strode over to Sombra, raising his sword. "Pfft! You have come to grief, you oversized pest, so here you meet your end."

"No!" sputtered Sombra violently, saliva spraying from his mouth, utterly ignoring the great pain he was in. "I don't wanna die! I don't wanna die! I don't wanna die!"

Corvo stopped short, and remained standing over him like a tall statue, sword in hand, ready to strike, cold death reflecting in his murderous glare. Sombra froze, but continued repeating, as it were, to himself: "I don't wanna die. I don't wanna die."

"Ha... ha..." escaped Corvo's twisted lips. "Sombra... this is too good for you." And he wildly struck Sombra down with his sword, the latter whom gave a strangled, frenzied gasp, and sunk all of a heap back on the floor. Then Corvo dealt him another stab, and another, and continued the motions like a madman, and did not stop until blood was spread on the floor like an overturned glass.

He stopped at length, panting, watching down on the pony's battered body; then, he cleaned his sword on a nearby cloth to sheath it back in his blue greatcoat, and bent over Sombra's face. He was dead: his eyes were staring out of their sockets, the sickened whole of his face was contorted almost convulsively.

And suddenly he gradually vaporized into a stream of ashen-grey smoke, it lingered in the air for a few seconds, and at last disappeared. No traces of him were left, not even the gushes of blood.

"Finally, back to my senses," sighed Corvo in accomplishment and strode out of the house. The sun was resting right on the eastern horizon. The grass was glowing and rustling, the trees took on an orange highlight, intertwined with the beams of natural light; it was so bright that he was momentarily forced to shield his sight. He wandered to the fence, at length coming to realize his immense exhaustion, sitting down and sighing.

"Good grief," he said out loud, "how am I going to get back?"

He saw Discord's lifeless body, limp as before and in the same position. Some of the colour seemed to have drained from the draconequus's form. A tragic shame indeed, or so he thought.

"Good question," Corvo picked up the Outsider's monotonous voice. He turned slightly and, right before him, with that same pale, unimpressive face and black eyes was the Outsider, carrying his hands behind his back and walking over to Corvo.

"Entertained?" said Corvo, smiling an ironic smile.

"A lovely time for me," replied the Outsider. "The revelations, the words of betrayal shared, intrigue and mystery—and you were in the eye of the storm, a punishing spirit. I have watched over Serath as well, and I must say, what a serious twist that turned out to be. Who would think Corvo Attano's doctor friend would be caught up in the battle? Hmm, very interesting."

"There is nothing else to worry about then. Sombra is dead, the ponies are back together, Serath and I can return to Dunwall at last."

"And no future war, as far as I can tell, which means you succeeded in your original goal. You have done nothing but amaze me at every turn."

"Okay then, will you mind taking me to the Crystal Empire? I would walk, but my legs will get tired."

"Might as well."

But as Corvo rose to his, feet the Outsider lowered his shoulders, recovering some lost gloominess to his thin lips. "A lot has happened without you. Princess Twilight was injured, Princess Celestia threw herself at the smoke like a martyr, but Serath interested me most of all."

"Are they alright?" asked Corvo, not taking his eyes off the Outsider.

"Hmm, yes. They're all breathing, and will live to see the years to come. But"— he furrowed his brow —"what about Discord?"

"The poor sod is dead. Can you not see that?"

The Outsider hummed in thought and went over to Discord, and said: "No, that isn't right. He is alive, barely, but I can sense his life force."

"Really now?" said Corvo with a start. "Then what happened to him?"

"No magic, from what I ultimately observe. But Discord will recover, give it some time. He is simply unconscious, a minor coma even." The Outsider crossed his arms, inclining his head to Corvo. "Are you ready to be brought back, with Discord's body?"

"Damn," groaned Corvo, as if he were disappointed with himself. "Celestia will surely berate me for this. Ah, but that is no excuse, so yes, bring him along."

The Outsider nodded his head: time froze for a second, and when Corvo blinked, everything resumed. He was back in the Crystal Empire, right under the Crystal Castle, and all the others were there, their bodies crystallized just like his.

Author's Note

*Paraphrased quote taken from Nietzsche's Beyond Good and Evil.

Chapter 9: Transient Observation

Corvo needed a second or two to readjust. The sun was raised, and as such, it was a bright, clear morning. The Crystal Heart levitated beneath the great arch of the Crystal Castle, rotating indefinitely and producing a mesmerizing light.

Twilight and her friends (and she was being tightly embraced by her friends), the two princesses, and Serath were standing by the Crystal Heart, extreme joy expressed on their faces. In fact, all of their physiognomies glittered and gleamed brilliantly.

The joy was short-lived. They set their eyes on Corvo and Discord's limp body, showcasing different shades of shock or indignant anger; and Fluttershy quickly strode to Discord, hoof over her mouth.

"W-what happened to him!" she cried.

"Corvo..." said Celestia imposingly, looking down on him as the rest surrounded him.

"I am just as despondent about this as any of you!" he said instantly. "But no need to worry. Discord is far from dead—a tad unconscious, however. Look, the rises in his chest, he still breathes."

"We should take him to the medical room here," said Serath with decision, bending low over Discord and putting a palm to his forehead. "Still warm, but clammy. He needs a bed to lie down on. I guess the rest can be left up to the medical ponies of this castle."

"You've quite the tale to tell, Corvo," added Luna, who was standing closest to Corvo yet spoke the loudest. "Why in Equestria did you abandon us like you did?"

"And how ever did you get here?" asked Rarity in confusion.

"I will tell you later, but not now," replied Corvo.

"I think now is the perfect time to tell us," said Twilight with distrustful eyes. But she involuntarily flinched and rubbed the nape of her neck. "Ouch, I still feel some pressure back here."

"You too need a bed," said Serath strictly. "We are unbelievably fortunate the Crystal Heart's radiance healed you. It denies the fundamentals of science, but—eh, what can you do?"

"What about the science of love?" said Pinkie Pie, smiling.

"Love is a chemical reaction in the brain designed to propagate the species," said Corvo, and he pointed to the Crystal Heart, "not that."

"Stop avoiding the subject," said Luna in an imperious voice. "We'll be taking you in for questioning once everything has been sorted out."

"Then let's begin sorting everything out," said Celestia, whose spread wings began pointing in different directions. "Twilight, you and your friends should head back to Ponyville. I'll inform you of anything important via Spike's dragon breath should any changes arise."

"Good luck, Princess Celestia," confirmed Twilight, she bowed low, as did her friends.

"Come by for cake!" beamed Pinkie Pie, already slurping with her tongue.

"Oh, um, Serath," said Fluttershy with a worried face, "will Discord be alright?"

"Of course," replied Serath with a friendly smile. "He should be back on his feet in no time. Give the day what it deserves, go join your friends."

Fluttershy thanked him dearly and walked back with her spirits held high, although she snuck in a final concerned glance at Discord, which Serath noticed.

"Discord seems to be the impenetrable sort," Serath called out. "Nothing I can't understand here. Everything should be fine."

"Race you to the train!" cried Rainbow Dash. The girls shared a laugh and trotted off, followed by: "Hey, wait up!" from Spike, who ran after his friends.

Celestia continued: "Princess Luna, I ask that you check all the safety bunkers around the city, as well as the barracks, in the event that anypony fell behind the evacuation." Luna nodded in understanding and flew off. "Serath, Corvo, you two head for the medical room. I'll teleport Discord with me and meet you there."

"Can you not simply teleport us with you?" interposed Corvo.

"I can," said Celestia, turning round and igniting her horn, "but I'm giving you two some walking time to discuss things among yourselves. When we get there you'll be awfully busy with me." And in a flash she and Discord vanished.

"Phew, you must tell me what happened on your side of the coin!" said Corvo after he took in a deep breath. The two friends walked round the road and through the crystal entrance.

"I highly suggest you start, Corvo," said Serath with a fixed stare. "I am very glad you're alive and well, but why take off the way you did? Goodness, just look at Discord's condition! And did you find King Sombra? What happened to him, if you know the answer?"

"I do, in fact, know the answer," said Corvo importantly. "Sombra was promoted to glory."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"He took the train to glory. Er... no? Took the last bow; wearing the pine overcoat; swimming six feet under; shuffled off his mortal coil."

With each word spoken Serath assumed an increasingly more serious look, eyeing Corvo dubiously.

"Dead, Serath! Sombra is dead! I cut the maniac down myself."

"Yes, I caught on to the euphemisms," replied Serath flatly. "You killed him in self defence, correct?"

"Not in self defence," said Corvo. He crossed his arms and exhaled slowly, as though struck by a chilly breeze. "The Crystal Heart's power—or I assume it is the Heart's—arrived just in time, less than a second before the smoke touched me. Supreme luck, that's what! Or maybe it reacted like a wave pushing oil, the shockwave carried the smoke with it. Hmm, I will look into it later. Anyway, it ruined Sombra. He collapsed down on the floor, wheezing and crying, and in the best intentions I killed him."

"Hmm, a shame really," sighed Serath with low eyes. "Executing criminals is legal in Dunwall, and to my protests, as you are aware, but what about Equestria's legal system? Will Celestia take kindly to this news?"

"We will find out soon enough."

"But Corvo, why did you leave, and why did Discord accompany you?" asked Serath with renewed, albeit uneasy, curiosity.

"Glad you asked," said Corvo readily. "As you know, I suspected Luna was under Sombra's control."

"You told me that, yes."

"It took a turn for the worst—that is, I was right. Sombra conceded in full detail."

"Wha—really?" sputtered Serath in immense surprise, and in an instant he was reduced to silence.

"Indeed. Luna is acting quite normally," observed Corvo. "I would say she lost her memories of ever obeying Sombra, as those were not her own. That should explain it."

"Are you absolutely sure Sombra told the truth? How do you know he did not merely toss a lie in about Luna to throw you off guard?"

"That's the first thing which came to mind when he confessed. But I believe him. I sensed no trickery, he had no reason to lie, everything adds up to it—I read into everything."

"Hmm, I see. But why did all of that compel you to take off?"

"Sombra revealed their means of communication: two grey books, acting somewhat like receivers. Write text in one book and it will appear on the other. You see, Luna only had one opportunity left to write to Sombra before the ponies left that shelter, which I made sure of by taking off without a word, right at the end, I even acted misleading for the sake of vagueness. By the time I found Sombra he would not have had enough time to instruct Luna on what to do, if he even could, effectively cutting off their communication."

"That holds some truth. We watched one another the whole way through. I never noticed Luna looking at a book with her back turned."

"After I arrived at the rock farm—"

"A rock farm? What in the world..."

"Absurd, I agree. Moving on, the entire time Luna believed Sombra had everything under control, and while she acted on her own accord, Sombra prattled on for what felt like two eternities."

"Prattle, you say?" Serath scratched his chin, pondering. "What did Sombra tell you?"

"Very little worth our time," said Corvo, and he felt himself that he did not say this from good-natured importance, but involuntarily, from resentment. "Quite a lot of incoherent drivel; he attempted to persuade me, I think, but simply to learn about my plan. Only thing he said that is of some significance was Arbmos's theory of predictable brain signals. Do you recall? The lecture about neurological transmitters just this March, the lecture I attended and told you about."

"From the chemistry department!" exclaimed Serath, remembering at once. "So Sombra knew about that? Interesting, very interesting."

"We could extract a lot from that piece of information," said Corvo with a thoughtful expression. He looked intently at his Mark, as though considering something. "Ah, why dwell on it? Sombra is dead, nothing more he can do, and any other pony he must have brainwashed is free. Equestria no longer concerns us, Serath. Hopefully we find a way to reactivate the magic mirror and head home. What else is there to do?" He began surveying his own attire and chuckled. "Well, what about this?"

"I was dazed at first, too," exclaimed Serath, staring wide-eyed at his own frock coat, then with amazement at his own hands; at first he could make no protest, but eventually he became far too predisposed to worriment. "Our entire bodies are composed of some crystalline substance. Fascinating, but we cannot go back looking like this. Fine by me if the clothes remains coalesced into crystals, but not our skin. Look..." he held a hand up. "I can see you through my palm."

"That is what bothers me, the more I think on it," said Corvo with an expression of still greater gravity. "However, we know that Sombra was defeated in the past, and that involved placing the Crystal Heart under this castle like today, so I am assuming these effects are temporary—or reversible."

There was one other circumstance which struck Corvo particularly, and led to a very unpleasant and old suspicion, which he was about to bring up with lofty repugnance, but alas, they arrived at the medical room.

They formed themselves out rather decently. Discord was laid down on the biggest mattress in the castle, but even so the ends of his serpent body stuck out limply. Serath strode over to his side and quickly reviewed the supplies made ready for him on the white stool ride beside the ailing draconequus.

As expected Princess Celestia sat patiently across the room, staring blandly out the window into the empty city. It was looking as if everypony really had evacuated, but to where, she could not know for absolute certain. Princess Cadence and Shining Armor were likely taking shelter up north with the crystal ponies and guards.

"What is there you wish to weave to?" said Corvo. He sat on the bed opposite to the glowing alicorn, clinging his hands together in a formal manner.

"Nothing you shouldn't know," was Celestia's dismal reply. "Take what I say to heart, Corvo: I don't want to have to keep you in Equestria for any longer than necessary, and the last thing that's necessary is interrogating you in a dungeon. But you must work with me here. Why did you kick up and run off like that? Where's King Sombra? How did Discord end up like this?"

Corvo, without so much as a hint of hesitation or jesting, spoke at length of everything he had just said to Serath, but in greater detail, and with less flair. He defended his "shameless behaviour," very much like an emphatic wordsmith; and when he got to Sombra's final confession—that he had been controlling Princess Luna ever since they left Canterlot Castle—he described it tactfully, that is, he recalled with the utmost conviction and confident demeanor, not for a single second holding back, making his opinion of Luna blatantly known, regardless of its unpopularity.

Celestia listened to his whole speech carefully and with open consideration, not in the least looking to be disconcerted, waiting intently for him to finish. When Corvo came to a close, explaining how he killed Sombra and that the Outsider brought them back, she at once smiled graciously in his face; and Corvo was drawn to glance at her mysteriously.

"I see," she said meticulously, as though preoccupied with another thought. "Not only did you convince Discord to join the hunt, but you planned out the whole thing by breaking down their communication. It was two grey books, which is what you saw in the illusion, right?"

"You were reading the book," said Corvo. "But then you went on to say that it was something else, and the final page—torn off. Must have been a piece of the illusion then, deliberately placed to knock me off my feet. Well, so much for that."

"Corvo, I believe you," said Celestia suddenly, much to Corvo's astonishment. Her eyes flashed and her face became quite serious.

"I find it unexpected of you to say that, after all, you doubted me before," said Corvo, although a certain nervousness seemed to shudder within him. "A mightily intellectual encounter you're conjuring up now. Ah, apologies, I rather not start joking."

"I'm right there with you on that one," said Celestia casually, lowering a persistent eyebrow.

"Yes, of course." The discussion died down for a second, but Corvo looked at Celestia as though she cordially invited him to finish what he had to say. "So you believe me, is that it? Then what do you have to say about your sister? Does she remain in your legal boundaries?"

"Corvo, you must understand," began Celestia with a sigh; she at once understood every expression on Corvo's face and saw that he was making a great effort to understand her. "I banished my dear sister to the moon for one thousand years. For goodness's sake, not six months ago it came to my attention that she had created a dark entity meant to torture her with nightmares, just to punish herself for the creation of Nightmare Moon."

"That was the first thing I read about during my second visit: the story of the Royal Sisters and the eventual Nightmare Moon. Realism inflicts tragedy."

"Yes, you know very well about what had happened." Celestia suddenly shot Corvo a keen, almost gloomy, look—not condescendingly, as he had imagined, but with modesty and reserve, with evident goodwill to understand each other and apparently without the slightest ulterior motive. "This has been difficult for me to come to terms with, but when Luna... when my sister had decided that Equestria didn't appreciate her beautiful night sky, and her position of royalty next to me wasn't worth it—that wasn't a successful mind control spell—it was all produced by her own will. My sister transformed into Nightmare Moon because she wanted to, because she, in some sense, thought long and hard about the consequences, and at last came to the conclusion that it would all be worth it in the end. To this day I wonder if it was me, that perhaps it was my fault as an insensitive sister who didn't talk to the pony she loved the most enough. After all, who else was there to blame but my own little sister? I couldn't do that, not in the moment. But as the princess of Equestria it is my sworn duty to wear an enthusiastic smile every single day, as a means to keep morale high. For one thousand years I've lived in regret, but despite that, even in the worst of times, I kept a stiff upper lip. Luna has returned a long time ago by now, but the fact still remains: she initially turned against me by her own choice. And so I must judge rationally: Luna is the most susceptible to mind control, and ever since the Crystal Heart released its magic it erased every last fragment of Sombra's words within her mind. That's what I see."

"I agree," said Corvo readily, looking intently at Celestia. "That is, the part where you said Luna must have lost a section of her memory—that is precisely the same arrière pensée which struck me." Even so, I wonder if Luna will get any ideas.

"Although you really shouldn't have killed King Sombra the way you did," Celestia began again, laying stress on each word. "As you may know, the Crystal Heart utterly destroyed him the last time, but this time you said he survived by a hair? I'm assuming he wasn't completely killed due to his significant increase in power. In any case, you should have taken him in."

"Then you ought to have seen him in his final moments," said Corvo in reproaching tones. "The maniac was coughing up on the cold floor. He would have died from natural causes in ten minutes if I had not butchered him myself." Right before Celestia was about to respond, Corvo said again: "And please do not suggest the prospect of redemption; he was the cause of many deaths across the country. The dog died like a dog, and for good reason."

"Have it your way," muttered Celestia.

"I do not mean to be derogatory, but I did have it my way."

But Celestia ceased speaking suddenly, as though checking herself. After having listened attentively and respectfully she went on, addressing Corvo with perfect composure and as before with ready regard:

"You also brought up those old tomes you and Discord discovered back in the shelter. Strange, I never saw any use in them; I held a mild understanding of their contents, but my magic never did much. In what way did they help you track down King Sombra again?"

"Well, it turned out that my own magic reacted quite readily with the ancient books. I suppose that was all they needed to respond. Working together with Discord's chaos magic and he was able to locate magical imbalances, presumably traces left by Sombra. In case you wish to know, those tomes described the two oldest forms of Equestrian magic: White Light magic and Black Light magic."

"I'm well aware it was the first recorded uses of magic, at least in Equestria, but that's what they are called? White Light and Black Light?"

"Yes, and... something else." Corvo vividly remembered the "crumbling" discovery he and Discord made—what real dark magic implied—but without so much as a second thought Corvo decided that this new revelation was simply not worth it, and he was sure Discord would keep his mouth shut about it, too. Even if Celestia had her doubts, they would never be able to decipher those tomes without his Mark. Knowing all of this, Corvo went on: "Black Light is the original source of evil and chaos, that is to say, dark magic and the lot. I guess your magic, Celestia, must be a variation of White Light. I did a few simple calculations in my head and tracked Sombra down using White Light to produce a counter reaction. It is all remarkably straightforward."

"That's all very fascinating, Corvo. I might just look into it, and besides, the Royal Archives could use some dusting up," she ended with a friendly smile.

"And what of all this!" Corvo couldn't refrain from adding in, tugging at the cuffs of his greatcoat. "This is top of the line linen—and a solid navy blue at that, not a transparent cadet hue."

Celestia chuckled. "Are you displeased with the change in fashion?" she asked.

"Not entirely. I could very well make a fortune with this, but not my own skin, folk might mistake my appearance for that of a ghost's, probably even build a cult round me."

"In that case, rest assured. The crystallized effect is a product of the Crystal Heart's love magic, which is an extension of Princess Cadence's magic. It should wear off in a few hours."

Knowing this, Corvo gave her an amiable smile, reflective of good company, and stared out the window beside him. It had all come to him—they had defeated King Sombra, and Equestria was safe. Though, something else of equal magnitude seemed to be nagging him, but he could in no good faith understand why he cared.

"Do you know the casualties, Celestia?" he asked, still looking out the window. "I trust your mass evacuation turned out largely successful, but we cannot jump to optimism just yet. What do you know about Canterlot? We have yet to survey the city, and Sombra stated it was consumed by his smoke? That statement could hold up to scrutiny, though, and perhaps not every Canterlot pony is done for."

"Someone had to bring it up," said Celestia in a low voice, pain crossing her face. "It hasn't even been an hour since we recovered the Crystal Heart, no other contact with ponies or official guards have been made yet. Luna and I, with the help of Spike, will soon be sending out messages declaring victory, which is why I sent them to Ponyville in the first place. I instructed Twilight and Spike to start the delivery, right before you arrived back with Discord."

"It is evident that everyone within Equestria had to have seen the Crystal Heart's blast radius, it reached all the way to the rock farm."

"You're right, Corvo. My guess is that Princess Cadence is making her way back to the Crystal Empire as we speak, along with her husband and any other pony they brought along. I'm a bit hopeful: I believe every crystal pony managed to evacuate together; they had to have seen the smoke coming from kilometers away. The guards keep watch, after all, especially on the clouds."

"And what do you have to say about Canterlot? That is where you live, after all," said Corvo with regenerated persistence, at once reverting back to his original inquiry.

There was a long pause in which Celestia seemed to be deep in thought, and Corvo at last turned from the window to watch her keenly.

"I don't know," she admitted with a sort of latent austerity. "I'm sorry, Corvo, but beyond what compassionate intervention I could muster, and without disregard to the known facts—I don't know. The back of my mind prays that it was all a bluff, and that for all the right reasons the citizens of Canterlot escaped; but if I'm wrong, and King Sombra truly did block off the exit points, I hope they found another way to survive. Just... anything works."

"You have my sympathies," replied Corvo reverently. "So long as you take the cautious approach every little trifle should play out in your favour."

Celestia was significantly silent. Her whole figure expressed extraordinary personal dignity. Upon this observation a punctilious and amicable smile played on Corvo's lips.

"How do you cope, Celestia?" he asked with an utterly genuine air. The whole of his expression seemed to be resembling an unhappiness with himself, as it were, like an attempt to rid any trace of superciliousness from his tone.

"How do I cope?" echoed Celestia curiously. She noticed his sincerity, almost to the point of self-pity, and was seriously taken aback for it. "Well, I do what's generally recommended: breathing exercises, don't worry about the small stuff, be considerate of others, be respectful—I follow the behavioural guidelines of any good princess. Corvo, if you ask that out of my concern for Canterlot, believe me that I'm terribly stirred at the moment, but I must keep a clear head."

"No, not just that," replied Corvo at once. "You survived two assassination attempts from me. For the past two years my mind was driven by the belief that you were dead. I personally went out of my way to see it through, and despite my reasons to evade a predicted war—which has been evaded, by the way—you stood strong and at the ready, capable of making decisions that would benefit the country. I could never understand the apologists for absolute monarchies, and to tell the truth, I still don't, but I..." He twisted his lips, as though unsure of how to phrase himself. "I mean, you survived and still find the strength in yourself to remain respectful. My nerves were shot, I had no idea what I was thinking. How could I have surrounded myself with such ideas—ideas which nearly led to the death of a well-loved leader? I will never ask for your forgiveness, I deserve none of it, and if you so choose, I shall never set foot in Equestria again, I will even destroy the mirror once I get home; in fact, keep my weapons, I will give them to you later."

"Where is all this coming from?" asked Celestia in dubious surprise.

"The fact is, I see no point in fighting you anymore. My pride has been struck, and it was struck the moment you activated the Crystal Heart, because in hindsight I find myself happy to have lent you a hand in saving Equestria, far more than when I believed you were dead. Perhaps I felt triumphant two years ago, but it was all superficial—it is sometimes very pleasant to lie to yourself, you know? I look at my own world, I reflect on what I saw in it, and it baffles me to such a degree. Honestly, what brought me to claim destruction of Equestria two years ago? I was so certain of my power, but as of now, with the tensions lowered and us standing on grounds of reconciliation, my insignificance dawns on me. I am a scoundrel, and"— he opened up his coat halfway to reveal the metal mask strapped onto him —"as long as I carry this thing with me, I am also a murderer. And maybe I will forever be a scoundrel, but a murderer I cannot bear. To speak of extremes, I both understand and do not understand."

"Corvo, I think you're just tired. Maybe that's the problem," said Celestia, smiling.

"No, the problem is that I have been here too long for my own good. The more I look at you, and Luna, and the other ponies, the bigger the devil in my heart grows. Over two years of this madness. Why did I let myself devolve into such a sentimental scoundrel? A scoundrel, but please, not a murderer, anything but a murderer." And suddenly his eyes lit up, he sighed uneasily and leaned against the wall. "Who cares anymore? Damn if I know what is right and what is wrong. Perhaps... perhaps I was the evil one all along, perhaps I deserve to die, but I do not deserve your forgiveness. All I need to do is drop the mask, drop the sword, but how can I? I don't know where to start, or even if I will ever start."

"Corvo," Celestia began after a pause of several seconds, still holding onto that certain smile of hers, "there's different ways to cope, some less known than others. Ever since my sister returned I did everything in my power to make her feel at home, but I could not have accomplished that without the help of Twilight and her friends. All I wanted was for her to feel accepted, to not remember Equestria as the cause of her imprisonment. Can you imagine that? Look at Discord over there, being taken care of by your friend. He once betrayed us, and now, with his new vision of the true meaning of friendship, he'll do anything to prove himself, to his pony friends and to me as his princess. That's all that matters in the end—only you can change yourself, no pony can do it for you. Seek the truth, seek happiness from good friends; in sorrow, seek happiness. I can see true regret in your eyes. I didn't approve of your methods at first, but you followed your intuition to track down King Sombra, it all makes sense now. I couldn't pinpoint it in the start, but now it's cleared: you followed King Sombra looking to meet your end, because only then, you imagined, could you face the consequences of your actions. It is what it is; the past is gone. There's no road left but the one that leads straight ahead. Do you understand now, Corvo?"

Corvo stared at Celestia in sheer bewilderment, for reasons he did not quite comprehend, and with a shadow over his face, as though he had awakened to some sort of shock, and that she were speaking a different language entirely. A tightness seemed to develop in his throat, he could not respond naturally with the solemn perplexity that ran through him, his hands even began to subtly tremble, as though unable to stand still for much longer.

"Corvo"— her voice struck his attention —"I forgive you."

His whole countenance, so upsetting, taken aback, and mysterious, remained unchanged, there was something gravely precise about his gestures and the way he shuffled. But at last Corvo allowed himself to smile a cold smile; her impressions shook him almost painfully.

"Yes... that is it," he drawled out; then, he started to chuckle mildly and serenely. Yet in spite of the vague irresponsiveness of his unexpected condition and the sorrow that supposedly overwhelmed him, he could not help wondering at a new and strange sensation in his heart. "If only I knew people like you, Celestia. You declare forgiveness, and I most unduly disapprove; but who am I to disapprove? I... ah, apologies, I have a minor headache, nothing to worry about." He rubbed his temples and leaned forward.

"I know we're on friendly terms now," said Celestia, treating his response with a particular nonchalance, as if he were overreacting. "Corvo, there's no need to hate yourself anymore. The past is the past, and you sincerely did everything you could to defeat King Sombra—a bit overkill, but I get the picture. For now let's focus on getting you and Serath home, okay?—as well as recovering the damage dealt to Equestria until then."

"Er, right, good call. And," he said, clearing his throat, "thank you, I suppose."

"Discord's anatomy truly is a miracle," said Serath as he approached Celestia and Corvo. "The fellow should be dead, his insides are completely scrambled. But—I cannot explain it—he is healing at an unbelievable rate."

"Discord is a creature of chaos," said Celestia distinctly, happy that Serath joined them, "meaning he holds a tremendous amount of power, quite unlike what Luna or I share. He's not like any other ordinary pony."

"The black smoke did not hold him for long," added in Corvo. "One or two seconds at the most. I suppose that is how he survived."

"Yes, that is all very fortunate for him," said Serath, heaving a sigh from the bottom of his heart. "At this pace Discord ought to be back on his feet, or rather, back to floating in the air in no time. I predict anywhere from one-to-seven days of required rest."

He sat down next to Corvo.

"Get comfortable, Serath," said Corvo. "Who knows how long we will be stuck in Equestria for."

"Oh dear," sighed Serath, pondering Corvo's words. "My wife is going to give me a talking-to for not showing up to her bowling match. Hmm, what excuse is most plausible?—I performed an unofficial dental surgery at a remote village?"

"First thing on the list is to find Princess Cadence, coordinate with her guards, and bring back Equestria's population," said Celestia resolutely. She had gotten up from her seat and wandered over to the front door. "I'll assign a team of mages to look into the magic mirror, although it might take a while. Now, however, I'll have Princess Luna head for Canterlot and write to Spike. She should be finishing up by now."

"Do what you must," said Corvo. "Serath and I will be waiting here most likely."

Celestia nodded and was gone.

"I listened to what you told Celestia," said Serath in a low, penetrating voice, but he nevertheless smiled.

"So you did," pronounced Corvo, almost inaudibly.

"Ha, ha, I think you did the right thing, Corvo. True redemption is when guilt leads to the wellbeing of others. Every saint has a past, and every miscreant has a future."

"Sounds like you speak from experience."

"More than I would like to admit."

And Corvo, seeming suddenly convinced from Serath's face that everything would soon go back to normal, said: "Alright then, it might take all day for Cadence to make it back, and as such, this place will soon get boring. Up for a game of chess?"

"Sounds like a perfectly decent proposition. You be white?"

"I was about to ask you that, but if you insist—Pawn, H-five."

* * *

Celestia was now gaiting down the crystal road, making her way to the northern entrance. She walked the first few dozen steps boldly, but suddenly staggered for a split second and continued onwards more slowly, as if the dubiety Corvo had made her feel made itself known in her mind. But then she looked upon the sun, its warmth shining on her face, reminding them of their victory; and when she saw Luna, who looked considerably weary, coming her way, a bit of joy sprang up in her heart.

"No pony left in the Crystal Empire, no pony but us," said Luna as the two sisters closed their distance. "But I bring good news, Tia. I scanned the barracks—and all of their supplies, food, and tools—all gone. They must have incessantly gathered everything and escaped."

"That's an uplifting sign," said Celestia with satisfaction. "After all, if there are no bodies to speak of, no lives were lost here."

"That's very true. Here's to hoping that Princess Cadence arrives back in one piece."

Positive agreement inclined on Celestia's expression, but she did not entirely respond

"And what can you say about Corvo and his friend?" asked Luna suddenly. "It's my guess they will be returning to their own world soon, but have you decided through what means? The mirror, for example."

"I hope they don't stay here any longer than they would like to. I was going to have a team of mages look into the mirror and see if they can revive its multidimensional magic."

"A wise decision on your part. The mirror does not function anymore, is that it?"

"Right."

"I see. So Corvo and Serath will take residence in the Crystal Empire for the meantime?"

"Yes."

"Tia..." began Luna, leaning in closer to her sister in concern. "You're acting very—oh, why do I say?—you're acting very not-you. For starters, when have you ever given a monosyllable response? Is something the matter?"

"What? Oh, no, not at all," replied Celestia with the same good-naturedness that had characterized her a moment before. "Just... I'm glad you're safe." And she abruptly embraced Luna in a hug, who remained staring forward with a comically disconcerted look.

"Well, er—ha, ha," laughed Luna, wrapping her own arm round her sister. "I'm, uh, glad you're safe too, Tia."

"I love you, Luna."

Luna blinked rapidly to herself, but quickly said, as though drawing her last breath: "I—love you, too."

When they disconnected Luna found herself looking happily into her sister's face, and at the same time filled with an apparent astonishment.

"What did Corvo tell you?" she asked, smirking, gazing round as if expecting to find him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Celestia, flushing suddenly. "We discussed matters relating to his stay, and about Serath as well. Don't worry, Corvo didn't step over a line or anything like that."

"So you did question him on the whole lot we need to know, such as his abandonment. What were his excuses?"

"I believe Corvo is changing, and for the better." But Celestia's tone was quite an unusual one, brought together by a great, unresolved doubt. Her smile remained, and disguised pity lighted her face.

"Changing, you say?" said Luna, skeptical at first. "Well, does he still assume I am under a mind control spell by King Sombra?" she ended with a sarcastic chuckle.

"He's been bemusing from the beginning, but no, he no longer thinks that. He took off with Discord to, as far as I can tell, prove himself."

"Oh? What objective did Corvo wish to prove?"

"A half-decent third impression. He did well, in my opinion." Celestia looked up briefly, pondering. "Although, he could stand for—well—ethical improvements. To start, King Sombra is dead because of him. Unlike last time, Luna, the Crystal Heart's magic didn't completely destroy him; but Corvo finished the deed, supposedly."

"Oh, I see," said Luna with a sigh. "Not much left for the imagination then. Fine as it stands. So..." she looked over her sister's shoulder. "Where were you heading off to?"

"Nowhere in particular, just out for a walk. I mean, I'm waiting for Spike's letter indicating that he has sent out the main message to our subjects beyond the borders. Of course, if they witnessed the Crystal Heart's shockwave, then there isn't much convincing for us to work for."

"Will you be en route for Canterlot once that is finished?"

"Not yet. I have a strong feeling Princess Cadence is racing back to the Crystal Empire, so I was planning on holding back here for the next day." She looked at Luna considerately, deep in thought, and suddenly determination highlighted her face. "I have an idea, sister. You could head back for Canterlot, see what's left, if anypony survived," she said this as she dropped her eyes. "This would be a great help. Can you do this?"

"That's exactly my train of thought," said Luna adamantly. "I will head for Canterlot at once, no pony else will die on my watch. Keep safe." She embraced her sister once more, who was puzzled by such readiness, and strode off, faster than before, and then she took off into flight.

Celestia stood there, unmoving for an entire minute, contemplating over the entire day. She was well aware of Luna's considerable abilities, but right then and there doubt stung her, namely, she got the impression that her sister was exaggerating them in some strange and unordinary self-conceit. That is, Luna took off very eagerly, assured that she would save as many ponies as possible, and it did not look like she had planned to go to Canterlot immediately, not until Celestia had brought it up. But neither she nor Corvo could have influenced Luna in that, even if this behaviour was vaguely reminiscent of the impression Corvo had made on her.

Of course, it must be said that this was all in Celestia's mental processing, and in actuality she hoped the best for her sister and could not know for certain what to tell her of Corvo's conviction that she had been magically manipulated. But it's all in the past, she found herself thinking, and it's best to forget about it and focus on recovering the lost and auspicious eminence of Equestria.

* * *

There isn't much left to recount for the time being, the remainder of this day turned out quite uneventful, except for a few important details, and joyous ones at that.

Princess Celestia at last received word from Twilight and her friends. They had arrived to Ponyville in one piece, at the ready to survey their town, only to find it completely abandoned, which was obviously to be expected. The carriages were all gone, the dirt road partly messy from the thousands of running ponies three days prior. The better part of the news is that word spread quickly of Sombra's defeat, right to the edges of the country, and after a handful of days pegasi, unicorns, and earth ponies could be seen along countrysides journeying together, returning to their homes once lost. I can't say for certain, but I would be willing to estimate a terrifying eighty percent of Equestria was covered in the black smoke by the time Sombra met his end.

Discord fully recovered the following day, and at an exponential rate, which Serath had failed to consider, although this was all for the better. It must be said, however, out of levity, that the very second Discord rose from his bed he jumped in surprise, then joy, rapidly thanked Serath and Corvo, and before they could get a reply in, he teleported right away to Fluttershy's cottage, leaving both men somewhat miffed. Nevertheless they understood his excitement and went on about their day.

It went without saying that the ponies had an immense amount of work ahead of them—weather control, retaking residence in their houses, regaining contact among the cities—although the process took many weeks. It would have taken longer in Corvo's world for, say, for humans, years even, but these ponies possessed magic. What better tool than magic for reclaiming a country?

Vanhoover suffered the most, unfortunately. The metropolis was still ablaze when ponies retook it, and thousands of pegasi were needed to produce enough rain to quench the flames. Once cleaning up had finished, everything else revolved round politics, which we will not delve into for the time being. It does not concern us.

Ah, my sincere apologies. It appears that I'm narrating this story in the wrong order; I got a bit ahead of myself, and so it is my fault if you're left wondering what happened with Corvo and Serath. Let's reverse the "many weeks" and go to the morning subsequent of the Crystal Heart's placement, that is, once Luna raised the moon and Celestia raised the sun afterwards, in that order.

This was perhaps one of the most relieving mornings of Princess Celestia's life, and all for the better, in my opinion. Luna had indeed made it back to Canterlot, and to her utter shock, the Canterlot ponies were all there, moving about in the streets, spreading the word, organizing the important stuff. The royal guards were working together to set everything back in order.

Upon her arrival Luna learned that when the evacuation was blocked by the dark magic at the gates, many ponies cleverly took to safety bunkers, basements, and especially within the sewer system. I'm sad to say that a significant portion of the citizens did not, however, make it out alive, about ten percent if I'm not mistaken. Either their shelters were breached by the smoke or some simply could not move fast enough, and were caught in it. But this was all leagues better than what Sombra had fanatically described in his letter. For the past two days the majority of Canterlot had been keeping safe in secure locations where the smoke could not reach them, surviving off of packaged emergency foods, all bravely coordinated by the guards. Some of them would be getting promotions very soon.

When Celestia received the letter from Luna informing her of this remarkable discovery and its great many details, the former nearly wept with joy, if only due to the dark thoughts Sombra had stricken her with in his letter. However, a great many memorials would later on have to be initiated, accounting for all the lives lost. But, as an extension of this soul-gratifying news, there were not nearly as many causalities as she had expected.

In short, Equestria had survived the nightmare, and King Sombra was gone.

This is where we will return to the story: in the evening of that uplifting day.

* * *

Corvo heaved a large crate (containing spare stacks of crystal armour) on the crystal benches running uninterrupted all along the castle courtyard. Right behind him Serath was steadily sweeping the stairs with a broom, tossing away any dust into a trash can close by.

Needless to say, the two men, both in their plain shirts, sleeves rolled up, had volunteered to work according to the Crystal Empire's work schedule, both to pass the time and to add some decent progress to the newly-recovered area.

As Corvo walked back to a cart provided by Celestia, which held a dozen or so crates, he remarked: "Say, are we not in the far north?"

"I believe we are, judging by the heaps of snow and ice just beyond the Crystal Empire's parameters," replied Serath, who seemed to be toying with his dustpan.

"Ah, but that is just it," said Corvo, lifting up another crate. "It boggles my mind how exceptionally hot the temperature is here, yet bitterly cold a few kilometers down."

"Must be the magic," said Serath, smirking.

"Phew, who is laughing now then!" Corvo slid another crate on the bench. "Spring is drawing to a close in Dunwall, yet we are lucky to achieve anything over ten celsius."

"A good excuse to remain indoors, no?"

"Ha, ha, for you! I almost exclusively work outdoors, and at night. Just this April we found a women in her house, in the mid-district, she wasn't responding to the tax collectors, as so we were forced to break in. Her head—sliced clean off—and body submerged in a pile of ice. Forensics point to her being dead for weeks, and no one ever came to check up on the lass."

"Must have been a gruesome sight. Did you find the killer?"

"I almost did, but the Wandering Stranger beat me to it. Pfft, the cursed sod is like an invisible shadow."

Serath stared at Corvo for a moment, keeping his composure, and then said with frivolity: "But even your shadow is defeated in the dark."

"Hmm? Oh, yes, I suppose it does."

Corvo resumed carrying the crates, but Serath ceased his sweeping, he looked downwards, and a change came to his face, that is, his countenance bore something which testified to earnest attention.

"What is it?" asked Corvo; he took notice of his friend's behaviour and began paying attention himself.

"D... do you you hear that?" said Serath in a half-whisper.

"No, nothing... wait, wait, no, yes, what could that be?" The two friends exchanged puzzled looks. "It sounds like... faint clattering?"

"And it seems to be approaching us. Ah, hold on a minute!" Serath gave a start.

And then it suddenly hit Corvo, that is, he instantly reminded himself of what they had been waiting for, and the reason for their work. "Serath, to hell with your broom!" he exclaimed, running up the staircase. "We have got more important matters to attend to!"

"Uh, y-yes, on my way!" Serath carefully placed his broom against the wall and jogged after Corvo.

When arriving at the main entrance to the Crystal Castle they discovered the source of the sound: a whole plethora of ponies, either crystal ponies or armoured guards, were spread densely at the base of the castle, and many more were collecting into the group from far back. Standing at the very front was Princess Cadence, wearing a wool robe of odd aesthetic design, which was sewn up until the shoulders; her mane slightly disheveled as well. She was tossing out orders, intertwined with words of encouragement, as the many guards rounded up the crystal citizens.

Corvo and Serath were a full minute short behind Celestia, who had been standing next to Cadence, gazing over the expansive crowd impressively, evidently pleased—extremely pleased, in fact—with what had become of the situation.

By the time the two men, in complete and sincere anticipation, reached down to greet the princesses everypony was present, and Shining Armor also emerged from the crowd, with two guards at his sides for support. There could be seen a red patch taped on his neck; it was still healing from the incident. His face looked absolutely ill and helpless, like it had endured months of pain, and yet he still managed to smile, despite his bad posture.

He, too, wore a positively strange sort of attire, which even matched the design of what his wife wore.

"I can hardly believe it myself!" exclaimed Celestia, beaming. "Princess Cadence, you mean to say you evacuated the entire Crystal Empire up to Yakyakistan?"

"They welcomed us with open hooves, much to our relief," said Cadence with intense weariness; but some hidden inner force urged her on, Celestia felt it. She continued: "We saw the smoke from dozens of kilometers away, it took more than an hour for it to reach the Crystal Empire. I did everything I could, and Shining Armor was by my side the whole way through."

"Good to be back," muttered Shining Armor faintly.

"And best of all," said Celestia enthusiastically, "little damage was done to Canterlot, its ponies succeeded. Twilight and her friends have arrived in Ponyville as well, and soon this will all be a bad memory."

"Phew!" whistled Corvo, making his way to Princess Cadence. "I now see you persisted through the impossible."

"Greetings," said Serath with a wave.

"You're here, too?" said Cadence, looking at the two men with great surprise.

"They helped us in retrieving the Crystal Heart and defeating King Sombra," put in Celestia, gesturing to them.

"Really?" She glanced at Corvo and Serath with a happy, even accepting, look. "In that case, we're indebted to you all," she said, bowing her head to both of them. "We saw the Crystal Heart's magic all the way up north, it even startled the Yaks at first."

"How is your husband, if you do not mind my asking?" asked Serath, looking upon Shining Armor with concern, who returned with an assuring smile.

"He'll be fine," replied Cadence, inclining her head to Serath. "It's amazing, that you all overcame King Sombra. Worse than Tirek when he was around, that's for sure. Feel free to stay in the Crystal Castle, and give Twilight and her friends my dearest thanks. Now pardon me, I must look after the crystal ponies. They need their princess right now."

"I wish you luck," said Celestia, paying a last bow and striding off to the castle, followed closely by Corvo and Serath. The immense chatter of a large crowd in the background could be heard the whole way.

"We did it," said Serath after a pause, in what felt like a long-held breath. "Defeated the greatest threat in history with the power of friendship, eh?"

Celestia shot him an amused glance.

"Very deep," said Corvo casually. "Send that in letter form to Princess Twilight. She might just have a job for you here in Equestria."

"Excuse me, Celestia," said Serath, "just curious, but will you be going back to Canterlot?"

"I will," replied Celestia. They were at the castle entrance. "You two, though, I recommend to stay here. The magic mirror is in the Crystal Castle, and we will get to work on it as soon as possible to get you both home. I'm afraid I can't give you a specific date, I have no idea how long this will all take, but rest assured that we haven't given up on you."

"Then we are readily assured," remarked Corvo. He was conscious of boundless resolution, and in matter of fact did not mind one bit to being stuck in Equestria for an extra while, regardless of the consequences back in his world.

Serath, however, did not treat the situation with the same apathetic approach, he simply sighed and crossed his arms. "Nothing else we can do," he said, "save prepare for the weather."

"Corvo, Serath, you two make yourselves at home, wait for Princess Cadence to finish up here, go talk to her if you need anything," said Celestia. "This is where we part. I'm going to give her and Shining Armor my last goodbyes before taking off."

"Goodbye, Princess Celestia," said Serath, bowing out of respect. "You have been an extraordinarily honourable and courageous perso—er, pony. The best pony I have ever known. Farewell."

"Indeed. Farewell, Celestia," said Corvo.

She smiled once more and went her way.

"Back to work then?" said Corvo.

"Ha, ha, of course. Eh, although—we should probably inform Cadence first."

After a second of thought Corvo admitted: "Damn, good point. We ought to be following Celestia."

* * *

Luckily the promised team of specialists, the one meant to look into the magic mirror for any potential solutions, arrived the following day, by order of Princess Celestia, and the day after that they figured it out, and the mirror began to function once more.

I will briefly outline the procedure they took, as this is of some importance.

The magic mirror, which connected Equestria to Dunwall, courtesy of King Sombra, would not respond to regular pony magic, and if anything, it entirely resisted it. The attempts at the start were minimal, and it was decided upon to leave it as such. And so, by order of experimentation, they eventually grasped that they had to use Corvo's Mark to, as it were, find the right connection. Once locked in place they rebooted the mirror by that very trace, albeit at a minor and, depending on the perspective, convenient catch: only the two original humans who had initially gone through the mirror, that is, Corvo and Serath, were capable of crossing it.

In the morning of that day Corvo took it upon himself to hastily write a letter to Princess Celestia, as to receive a reply as quickly as possible. His letter read:

Dear Princess Celestia,

I am eternally grateful for having made a meaningful contribution to your fellowship, as well as the defeat of the terrible King Sombra. Despite the less than spectacular reception, I must concede and say your valour and friendship impresses me most of all. I am glad to stand on favourable terms with you, your sister Princess Luna, and your hospitable acquaintances, and Serath feels the same way.

I would like to express my deepest regret that, in all likelihood, I may never return—unless you wish otherwise, but that will not be necessary. You have my best wishes in ruling over Equestria.

Yours faithfully,

Corvo Attano

Later on that day, an hour before they managed to bring the mirror to a functioning condition, Corvo received a letter from a royal guard.

Dear Corvo Attano,

I would very much welcome you back again.

In case you are unaware, the Grand Galloping Gala is an annual royal ball held to celebrate the completion of Canterlot after the founding of Equestria. As of now, you and Serath (Hemsworth, was it?) are cordially invited to attend the next Grand Galloping Gala, which will be held in the magnificent capital city of Canterlot on the twenty-first of December this year. I look forward to your visit.

Sincerely,

Princess Celestia

"Serath," said Corvo, "what day of May is it?"

"The eleventh; and—ah, unfortunately a Thursday. I'm four days short of work at the hospital. Well, such is life."

"Are you ready to step into the portal, sirs?" asked a well-learned unicorn, the leading voice in his team. He gave a silent gesture to another unicorn, whose horn had been manipulating the mirror, and upon that command he let go and the mirror stabilized.

"Yes, we are," said Corvo. "Thank you."

"Any time, sir."

Corvo and Serath stepped through the mirror, one at a time: its glittery surface subsumed their whole peripherals, a strange and fractured sound wavered back and forth as they felt a coolness wash over their bodies, effectively swapping over the entire surroundings; and before they knew it, they were back home—or more specifically, Corvo's house, in his billiard room, where the mirror had initially appeared in.

"That was certainly an adventure," remarked Serath, quite a new expression had come on his face. "Well, I must admit: I really am happy to be back. To believe just last week I would have diagnosed you with a some mental disorder for believing in talking equines."

"Reality is stranger than fiction," said Corvo, and right off the bat he walked over to a cabinet in a corner of the room and pulled a folded carpet from its top mouth. Dust sprayed onto his greatcoat when he unravelled the thing and its curved end fell crumpled on the floor. "Ah, should be taking better care of this stuff. Perhaps I ought to hire a maid."

"What are you doing with that carpet?" asked Serath, following the carpet with his eyes.

"Confidentiality," replied Corvo with a look of concentration. He pulled back on the mirror so that it did not lean on the wall, tossed up the carpet over its back, and it draped the mirror, completely covering it.

"You best rely on staples and adhesives rather than a piece of fabric," said Serath. "Unless no one comes in this room."

"No one will."

He and Serath walked out of the room, where the former proceeded to lock it, and they headed for the lounge. The hearth smelled of burnt wood, the curtains were up, only thin rays of orange light pouring in at the edges. The clock ticked: seven thirty-five in the afternoon. It was getting late.

"I better check the letter box," said Corvo restlessly. "The officials over at the palace must be positively cross with my absence. Who even knows the amount of cases I missed out on; heh, investigators are probably thinking the same thing, forced to hand them over to the less adept officials."

"Best of luck on that, Corvo, but time is marching!" said Serath, darting to the front door. "I need to get home, I suspect my wife is horribly worried. We should discuss more tomorrow. Hound Pits Pub, round twelve during my intermission?"

"Sounds doable. Farewell, Serath."

"Farewell." And he was off in haste, without another word.

Corvo took out a bundle of letters and documents from his letter box. He piled them onto his desk, spreading the important-looking ones to the middle. Nothing out of the ordinary quite yet, save for one: a yellow parchment, seemingly ripped out of a notice board from last Sunday, written to Corvo Attano.

Rarely do I receive personal requests, thought Corvo. But he suddenly realized that he was impossibly hungry, having had neither breakfast nor lunch that day, and so he left the parchment on his desk, grabbed his scarf, and set out to the marketplace before they closed for the cold night.

* * *

As the narrator for this story I must say that, on my side of conveying the written word, it has been very bashful. I am not complaining, please do not get the wrong impression, but never in my time have I narrated a particular story and came out sensing strange impulses of sudden feeling and sudden thought which happen to be common in such types of stories.

Well, you see, I worded that last sentence in such a way that it implies I have narrated many stories before, but to speak for a lack of experience, this is my first attempt as a narrator. I won't tell you that I'm happy to have done this because that might bore you (and really, when has plain and simple happiness ever attested to the interest of the masses?), so instead, I will tell you to understand where I was coming from at the start of the very first chapter. I make sense to myself, but most likely, only to myself, and that's what throws me in for a loop. In truth, some stories can go on for as long as you'd like, and some people will read every page, while some others will drop the text after the first two pages.

My sincere apologies (again), but I don't seem to have a firm grasp on the art of the "ending." Chalk this up to my inexperience, that's what I would do if I were you. But I have read about many good narrators. Typically, a good narrator would have ended the story right here, and might have even shortened down this conclusion. The three acts are done, accomplished to the fiber—beginning, middle, end—I see nothing out of place, because whatever follows next is mostly unrelated and detached, or so I believe.

But who else is here to narrate this story? Me, only me, and as such, in spite of any possible untold rules of narrating, I will continue.

One way or another, it would do both you and I some good to find out.

Chapter 10: At Full Steam

Author's Note

Sorry for the long wait. This was arguably the hardest chapter to write for a number of reasons. But now it's finally here.

Chapter 10: At Full Steam

A sharp wind picked up when Corvo arrived at the marketplace, making him even more glad to have brought his wool scarf. Every once in a while a passer-by would stare at him profoundly, recognize him, and whisper among one another. He expected this—his absence came at a complete and total surprise, right when he was meant to finish up a case he himself picked out, turning the state of his return all the more exasperated. Too many people believed the famed detective was lost in a mist of obscurity; he walked forth almost mechanically, as though he himself did not notice his disappearance.

Heaven forbid anyone make a scene, thought Corvo.

There was very little activity in the market. About ten or so booths were set up along the town square, some sturdier and more appealing than others. Some folk were even closing up early due to the unusual cold, especially at a time like this.

A short man on the side of the road called out to Corvo. He had a sickly countenance in long sheepskin coat, who was standing by his wagon, clasping his hands together in their leather gloves to keep warm. His beard was white and ragged.

"Aye, Corvo Attano!" he cried. "What are you doing out here? You been the talk of Dunwall for a whole week. Dare I say you are the most to carry on so."

"I suppose we all need our conversation starters," replied Corvo with a smile.

"Very true!" laughed the short man. "Careful who you approach. They might just ask what you been doing."

"Sightseeing, you can say."

"Sighting? Heh! Anything happen? Anything uneasy?"

"Not particularly. I went off for a break, nothing important. Now I am quite starved, so if you will excuse me..."

"Ech! What a life." The short man heaved a sincere sigh. "Bye-bye!"

"Hmm, farewell."

He walked to the closest stall that was selling food, drinks, and other goods. He knew this one—the forsaken lady who worked there was a big fan of his, and her small business was a great consolation for her. She was fairly respected among the town, and would strike up conversation whenever the mood called for it. But this was all very strange, Corvo went on to think, that before this place felt like home, everything about Dunwall and its districts were familiar. But now, at a time like this, he found himself caring very little. This did not surprise him, and so he went along with a grim nonchalance.

"Greetings, Varie," said Corvo as he approached the middle-aged marketwoman.

"Oh, Corvo, by the stars!" she exclaimed warmly, swiping her bare forehead with a cloth and immediately began shuffling within the cupboards.

"Closing up soon?"

"Not till you arrived! Oh ho, what dealings were you after for the past week? Life is just dreadful without a handsome man like you round."

"Ha, ha, I really am flattered! Cannot say the same for recent monopolies. Have you been reading the news?"

"Of course, of course!" She grabbed hold of a butcher knife and inspected the netted meat hanging above. "I see so many folk everyday, most are really forgettable."

Corvo scanned the products available, pondering.

"What will it be?" she asked with stern emphasis.

"Whatever keeps be alive," he chuckled, and pulled out his wallet. "Strip of dried goat, double the usual size; hunk of bread; and... what drinks are you peddling?"

"A certain few. Cognac, vodka, whiskey, brewed spir—"

"Whiskey please."

"And a bottle?"

"Two bottles."

"Oh, I only got one."

"I will take the one then."

She wrapped the bought items with a thin plastic and stuffed them in a paper bag, gave it to Corvo as he handed over a handful of coins, and he was on his way.

Suddenly a man in a violent rage darted out from the arcade of shops close by. He was a young man, native to Dunwall, with dark, curly hair and a twisted, pale face, marked with smallpox. He wore a long grey coat and a peaked cap, and looked like an unknown and poor merchant’s clerk. He was in a state of stupid excitement and brandished his wobbly fist at Corvo.

"Oi, you, you, Attano!" he cried loutishly. "Do you job for once, will you!"

Corvo stared at him. He could not recall when he could have had a row with the man. But he had been in so many of them in the street with the lower class—almost none he started, mind you—that he could hardly remember them all.

"What is your problem?" said Corvo, scanning the man gravely.

"Your fault! Your fault!" cried the man idiotically.

"Whatever is my fault?"

"Get out of here, shoo!" cried the marketwoman angrily. "Sorry about this lad, Corvo. He refuses to leave passers-by alone, claiming he be cheated or something, and blames you."

"What cheated him?" asked Corvo.

"The Wandering Stranger took my family!" the man went on. "Cut 'em loose from me as if with a pair of scissors! You weren't there to finish the business. Guards did not interfere, 'not our business or time,' said you were supposed to look into it. You never did!"

"So much the better for you; that is not my fault." Corvo resumed his walk back home.

"Whose fault is it then? Whose? Whose?" repeated the man gloomily. "No one can swallow the Wandering Stranger case no more, no one can take it to heart no more, they given up! They let him run round and kill folk! You do nothing, you don't do your job!"

"Go back to your shed, or wherever it is you live," sighed Corvo, not willing to put up with this nonsense.

"Your fault! Your fault!" the man went on in hostility, getting awfully close; but he didn't even dare to lay a finger on Corvo, as he knew that would end badly.

The marketwoman began scolding the desperate man, who then left in a senseless state, and right after he tipped over, fell to the ground, and remained in an alley for half the night. But that all faded into silence as Corvo walked back to his house. The wind was getting harsher, and the sun was nearly fully sunken below the horizon.

What the hell was he talking about? swept through Corvo's mind. Wandering Stranger and dead peasants? How could that have happened this week?

Corvo was pondering severely, unclear of what to make of this distressing news. Then he remembered: crime goes largely unresolved for the lower class, partly because the guards take no interest in their affairs, and it does not pay well. Corvo reflected on this fact and admitted that he, too, only ever took up the highest paying cases, and never once concerned himself with the bottom of the barrel.

This does not make any sense, Corvo went on thinking. My last activity as the Wandering Stranger was ten days ago. Was the poor sod mistaken? Likely.

At last he arrived home. He ate his food instantly, and right after went back to his desk. After eating he took a sip of whiskey, and his spirits and heart grew lighter.

That yellow parchment caught Corvo's attention once again. Hardly an elegant or professional paper, testifying to its crude text, riddled with grammatical errors, and worn textures, roughly felt all the way to its curly edges.

He read the paper quickly and was thoroughly unimpressed, making him wonder why had he taken interest in the first place. It was a notice from two days ago speaking of murdered wives and kids, family and friends, referencing two incidences: one yesterday and the other the day before. The culprit was allegedly the Wandering Stranger, of which the notice provided a testimony about how people saw a distant shadow come and go, and it ended in bloodbaths. It was written to him, but not specifically signed, and could only have been produced by the lower district townsfolk.

"So these are the dice that man was complaining about," said Corvo to himself. He huffed irritably, crumpled the notice, and tossed it aside. "Wandering Stranger, huh? A rumour, I would wager, but one with a modicum of concern. More so, how did a lower-class citizen make it past the walls of light? He is not supposed to be here. Hmm, perhaps I should have arrested him."

Corvo scanned over the royally stamped documents, the ones that actually mattered, and began reading them. It was the usual, mostly—that it, the dirty work, whether it be homicide or illegal businesses, often leading him to work within the worst, least protected parts of the city, always at the complaints of the nobles. Corvo was lucky to be the most well renowned and respected detective in Dunwall, since this led to everyone fighting for his attention. And that meant the highest pay.

He got comfortable and decided not to go back outside.

The fellow got off lucky today, thought Corvo, but I best not adopt a lazy habit. Tomorrow I will go out for a walk, arrest him then if he's still causing trouble.

* * *

It was the nineteenth of December—a little over seven months since his and Serath's return from Equestria—when Corvo ringed the bell at the mansion's door, after having climbed up a wearying long flight of steps. There was six inches of snow at this time, and more yet to come.

He had been quite distracted in that moment.

A foreign detective, one from the north, was staying in Dunwall this year, along with his wife. But that is a criminally underdeveloped description, so allow me to elaborate.

This foreign detective, the much esteemed Fredric Apollinov, was, to the knowledge of every noble and informed reader, and to my own as well, the most famous and renowned detective in the country, and arguably the most accomplished and talked-of in the whole continent. His track record was mind-numbingly astonishing—his skill and intelligence was legendary, testifying acutely to his several records in where he had solved the most unsolvable cases, and many of those times he came to the conclusion on his own. Apollinov's very merits landed him interviews and invitations to the joyous interactions of a great many famous writers and officials; his inhuman ability to extract the most factual details of any given scene, effectively abating the situations surrounding his work, was brought up to furious debate among criminologists: just how did he do it? In short, by the general consensus: the greatest analytical mind this world has ever seen.

When Apollinov and his wife took to stay in Dunwall, for reasons currently unknown, many people were both surprised and excited. The high standards shone on the detective's sleeves: an old mansion, distinctly tasteful, consistently kept clean and maintained, rented out for six months, right at the start of June. That means he was up to his final month, and he meant to be leaving at the beginning of January.

Before we begin, let me recount what the famed Apollinov had been up to in Dunwall, that is, his work for the past six or so months. He would be requested dozens of times on a daily basis by the investigators to lend aid in their own city's problems. He would oblige every now and again, but for most of the time he remained shut up in the mansion, often while his wife went out to get to know Dunwall "from the inside out." He had been enraptured in intensive research and study, of which we shall get to soon enough.

At the present his wife had decided to host a soirée of the sorts, typical of such wealthy and well educated women. Many great minds from all across the country had been invited, and not a single one refused, and that included Corvo, the most acknowledged detective of his city, who himself was extraordinarily curious. Dunwall was a massive place, and as such he never had the chance to meet Apollinov before. Corvo decidedly read into his work, wondering about the positive commotion, which by the end left terribly impressed and even somewhat inspired.

Many other detectives were invited, many renowned academics and criminologists. Corvo had read the guest list, recognizing roughly a two-thirds of them. Serath wasn't invited, but either way he would not have been able to join—ever since the success of his PhD thesis, the doctor was almost always at work in the university. Arbmos was not invited, but once again he would not have been able to join. He developed a serious fever in the past six months, and while many assumed he would overcome it, the problem only grew graver. Nowadays Arbmos sat on his deathbed, the man was seriously ill, could hardly speak, sometimes did not even react to things right in front of his face. Serath's assistant had previously looked into his condition and guessed it was a case of tuberculosis; but it was only a guess. No doctor could know for certain.

That brings us back to Corvo, and like I mentioned, he felt partly distracted, although by what exactly he did not know. He had calculated that Apollinov only sent out invitations to people he knew one hundred percent would show up. A smart decision, to put it plainly.

Quite a lot of things I plan on asking him, Corvo went on to think. There are at least seven cases I was never able to solve, but not Mr. Apollinov. The man's resume is quite flawless. Hmm, and judging by this scenery, he and his wife have not spared their expenditure.

A superbly dressed chamberlain attended the door. He did not even need to confirm in the guest book if this happened to be Corvo. He bowed at once out of propriety and Corvo walked in.

The soirée looked to be in full swing. Two graceful stairways arched up to a second floor, but guards stood solidly in the way, representing the message that guests may only wander in the ground floor, and no further. The second floor is where Fredric Apollinov's work must be located, Corvo immediately assumed.

The foyer was furnished and arranged; two wide hallways led to separate rooms on either side, the smoking lounge and the dinner table. Several nobles, all lavishly dressed, were scattered about, discussing whatever seemed to be interesting that night, which just so happened to be Apollinov's special announcement. You see, this supposed announcement garnered much traction, about two weeks ago ever since the idea of an imminent soirée was brought up.

Corvo wished to directly ask Apollinov about the Wandering Stranger, and if he came to Dunwall for that very case, predicated among the insurmountable requests and rewards; but such bluntness did not seem like a very practicable thing to do. Then, again, there was another particular question, to which he could not find an answer; dared not, in fact, to speak of it; but at the very idea of which he kept highly astute.

That question is this: what were the causes of these missing impecunious families, and why were they all tied to the Wandering Stranger, that being him? He could not blame the justice department for ignoring such a case; he did so himself seven months ago, but only, as will be made apparent, at first; he had been investigating this case for a long time now ever since he sensed that some nameless force was working in the shadows to expose him, and took advantage of the outer districts to ensure no suspicion. Ever since then he took up the case, much to the confusion of his colleagues, but they held no objections. He, however, treated it like a side activity, that is, he observed it in his free time. And so far—nothing; nothing save for a few unique deaths, one in particular involving traces of a special metal known as caesium on the victim's corpse. But as it currently stands, none of this is worth noting.

But now was not the time to be so alert. His eye caught the sight of Apollinov. The esteemed detective was talking with another person, a woman in a white dress. I believe Apollinov had chatted with at least a dozen persons ever since the soirée kicked off, and now most were off having a good time. Corvo approached him.

Apollinov, a middle-aged fellow of forty-eight, of robust height and agreeable countenance, looked much older than his years; at least sixty years old many guessed, only to be surprised. He was wide-chested, moderately built, and showed signs of spectacular physical health and strength. And yet there was something strangely ill about his face—it was rather thin, his cheeks were hollowed, and there was an off-putting sallowness in their colour. His rather prominent, ghostly dark eyes had an expression of good-natured competition, and yet there was a vague look in them. His chin was shaven and smooth, contrasting with his rigid mustache, curled at the tips.

"It is hard to tell what he thinks," those who talked to him sometimes declared. But Apollinov nevertheless laughed at the most appropriate and expected times, instilling ease in others, resembling the complete merriment of his sociable character, bearing witness to mirthful and light-hearted thoughts at the very time when his eyes were so gloomy. Gloomy, but alive. By extension of his talkative nature, Apollinov was an unbelievably intimidating person to introverts, but up-close folk bore witness to a sharp and genuinely caring man.

He, too, was stylishly dressed in a buttoned frock coat, and Corvo had attended the soirée in his expensive greatcoat, the black one with gold-rimmed cuffs. Apollinov's dark hair, grey at the temples, was combed back.

As Corvo approached he heard the women who was speaking with Apollinov—this woman happened to be Rachel Ford from the Unmasked Ball—saying: "Oh ho, I can positively sense the strained air which surrounds you, Mr. Apollinov! It is especially very easy for me to understand, especially at this soirée. Oh, all the fortitude must take so much courage. Ahem, would you agree?"

"I agree, Mrs. Ford, everyone will know soon enough at the midnight announcement," replied Apollinov with gravity. "All the guests my wife has invited surely know of the extremely restless and dissipated habits which have governed my life thus far. Rest assured, there can be no breaks, and my 'secret' will be poured forth when the clock strikes the moon."

"Mr. Apollinov, Mrs. Ford," said Corvo with intense feeling. He smiled and gestured to Rachel Ford. "So glad to see you here." He briefly kissed her hand.

"Mr. Attano, Dunwall's knight!" said Rachel Ford readily, as though she had been happily anticipating his arrival. "I was just talking about you with the famed Mr. Apollinov, and the—ha, ha—" she started to titter "—the embarrassing fiasco at the Unmasked Ball! My, to this day I wonder what it was all about."

"Your exquisite record has come to my close attention, Mr. Attano," said Apollinov respectfully, returning the smile. "I am personally well versed in the Unmasked Ball's going ons, the cornerstone of scientific proposition, much of it utterly magnificent."

"So you know it," said Corvo. "Could you guess what led to the finale, Mr. Apollinov, or did Mrs. Ford inform you?"

"Oh, I did, I did!" she replied as her eyes lit up. "Not one sir nor madame could keep shut about the Wandering Stranger."

"Rachel, ma chère, get in here!" came in a male voice at the edge of the hallway's entrance, presumably her husband. "Master Sokolov wishes to discuss your art pieces. You will never believe his comments!"

"Right away, love!" sang Rachel Ford. She quickly bowed off and wandered down the foyer, right into the smoking lounge.

"I can very well imagine the turning point of your speech, Mr. Attano," Apollinov went on impressively, locking in Corvo's attention, almost like he had a special way with words. "I suspect the audience was highly amiable, but all appeared to be labouring under a half-hidden feeling of anxiety as to the result of your deliberate answers with regard to the Wandering Stranger—which result was to be made public the following evening."

"My, uh, my thoughts exactly, Mr. Apollinov," said Corvo, nearly getting lost in the overwhelming flow of his speech.

"Our aristocrats have oft wondered what this year's Unmasked Ball was all about. I was not personally there, but I do know it, oh I know it well. Presume, for instance, a most noble proposition to gather a very many influential and creatively intelligent Dunwallians. The science, the philosophy, the arts and literature—such is the knowledge to overcome the world. Following such a noble—I do like that word—a noble supposition, Mrs. Ford told me of your unusual arrival."

"You obviously heard about it. Everyone has heard about it," replied Corvo almost breathlessly. "Only I have to wonder: why invite me at all if my research did not stand up to scrutiny? I came to a particular conclusion a while back."

"The Wandering Stranger, no?"

"I was thinking that. Never thought it would go further than a pun."

"Oh, not at all, you mustn't underestimate human persistence. You are Dunwall's acclaimed detective, in a word, the best one they have got. Anyone else of comparable status—myself, who busily resides up north, or Lawliet, on the other end of the continent, or... you get my saying... the Wandering Stranger has been connected to Dunwall more than any other city, any other district. The information that the Wandering Stranger resides in Dunwall is common sense by now, however. In the beginning many among our most intelligent, our most trustworthy ladies and gentlemen took to the supposition that the ridiculous notion of a 'Wandering Stranger' would be whisked away in a few months—a bloody little trend, if you will. I imagine it got to the point where everyone started taking it seriously, and the Unmasked Ball was a functional plan to gather the influential crowd with, say, a magnificent detective..." he gestured quite innocently to Corvo. "Ha, ha, decent way to spread the good word to those who need the update."

"I think I came to the same conclusion, Mr. Apollinov."

"My commendable friend, I absolutely implore you to refer to me as simply Fredric. I have been wanting to strike a friendship between us ever since reading into your work as Dunwall's top detective."

"Then by all means, call me Corvo."

"I quite appreciate your familiarity, Corvo," said Apollinov with revealing animation in his eyes. He chuckled in a deep voice, making his joviality rather apparent.

"Of course," remarked Corvo cordially, "it is necessary, perhaps, to even encourage this freedom of behaviour. I myself have read about you, and I got a thing or two to learn, such as where do you stack all that money!"

The two laughed.

"How I have come to take such a fondness for western humour!" Apollinov went on. "Good or bad, sometimes it does good to one's soul to laugh."

"I ought to observe, Fredric, your originality," said Corvo. "That is, your work boggles my mind. You are able to answer questions—that is, you can fashion answers to questions most people would not have even conceptualized yet. Take, for example, your book on the psychology of the 'irredeemable,' as you put it, and notice how you allowed yourself a step back and even criticized your own character in light of the most wrenched minds imaginable. It crossed me as intellectually honest, if nothing else."

"Well, I thank you. You might just enliven us with your commentaries."

"Though, if I must add in something else," Corvo went on, a tad more slowly, suddenly becoming more serious, as it were, and with ill-concealed disconcertedness, "the week before tonight I drew a particular connection between this very soirée and your study of the 'irredeemable' psychology."

"A connection? Hmm... you seem like a good reader of riddles," said Apollinov, who was evidently longing to see whether he could make a guess as to what "connection" Corvo was alluding to.

"I must ask when did you... first of all... are you a psychologist?" poured out of Corvo, quite almost excitedly, too.

"Dear me, is there anything so very curious about my little remarks of psychology?" Apollinov smiled amiably. "I am no psychologist, or rather, not officially. I was talking about something quite peculiar."

"Surely you were talking about the Wandering Stranger."

"That is not entirely out of reach. But, my friend, do you know the greatest and even the most muddleheaded mistake a detective, even a good one, can commit?"

"I have some ideas. What is yours?"

"I will repeat the explanation for my soirée," said Apollinov with a sudden gleam of satisfaction and calculated anticipation in his dark eyes. "Oh, I mean, not a repeat since I hardly told anyone, including you. I will do all of this, and, at the same time, tell you the most muddleheaded mistake a detective can make. It's astonishing, I would say."

"Should I be honoured to hear this from you, this early?" said Corvo, starting to become surprised.

"I think so. You see, Corvo, all the world is witty and clever except myself. I am neither. That is the primary presupposition in which a detective must conduct his business."

"To avoid complacency?"

"To avoid complacency. There is nothing more foolish, nothing more intellectually degrading, than a complacent soul of justice, or, in our niche case, a complacent detective. The presupposition of ignorance is not an original one, but its status of utility is the product of much wisdom. You positively cannot know all, who can know all? A detective is, by his very nature, out of his league, and with such a mindset you will succeed. This requires constant confrontation will self-actualization and constant confrontation with the unknown. This is not an easy task, mind you, to avoid complacency, as it has tempted man for who knows how many eons. And so I adamantly repeat: I am neither witty nor clever. As a bold kind of compensation I am allowed to tell the truth, for it is a well-known fact that only ignorant people can tell the truth. On top of this, I am a spiteful man, magnanimous and yet dreadfully spiteful, by mere characteristic of not being clever. Should I be injured or offended I bear it quite patiently until the man offending me meets with some misfortune or other. That is, I know how to keep my place in the face of injustice, and that is the first truth I reveal to you."

Corvo listened with an open mind, but that was mostly askance and surface-level. He agreed that one should check himself and not devolve into complacency, but everything after that he found to be utter nonsense. In what reality can only the ignorant tell the truth? Added to that, how can one be both magnanimous and spiteful, and say so without the slightest wince of self-actualization, as Apollinov just said? And, if I may dare to insert my own opinion, I have to completely agree with Corvo here. This Fredric Apollinov certainly was a strange character with many objectionable opinions.

But Corvo, in spite of his mild perplexity, would rather not have criticized the world's top detective so readily. He kept on listening.

"The second truth is the underlying focus of me and my wife's soirée," continued Apollinov stoutly, even lacking all traces of uncertainty. "You said something correctly: there is indeed a connection between my psychological analyses and the Wandering Stranger. But I am (once more) not a psychologist, least of all a sociologist, not even an average one."

"Psychology is tricky subject matter," said Corvo with a fixed stare. "Never mind the drivel that is modern sociology, anyway; psychology itself functions at full steam and never a knot less."

"At full steam, you say?" Apollinov's countenance grew brighter, highlighted with some great, marked interest. "Hmm... I suppose you can... to understand it all!" He widened his rigid smile. "Ha, ha—psychology moves at full steam! What else may motive the most complex motivations of the self-conscious and individual soul? You can never explain it, you can commit to the most nonsensical and irrational modes of being, but every belief is internally logical, every culture has its own system of reason which survives scrutiny under its own context, but only under its own context."

"I definitely agree with that," said Corvo suddenly, all too glad to have said it. He was about to throw in another remark, but realized it would not add to the conversation, and, moreover, realized the borderline haughty composure he displayed when he agreed. He instinctively cleared his throat.

"Of course, yes, of course," maintained Apollinov with perfect composure. But he looked to be hurrying along, as though wishing to end an unpleasant digression. "But anyway, anyway, the second truth now, and one—take my word for it, I recommend it—which requires a tad more than just polite attention. You see, roughly three years ago I said to myself, I said: 'These frantic collapses of royal overseers and lord regents, and the accumulating effaces of illegal organizations, and the increased numbers of criminals forming steeper and steeper hills in the graveyards... why, is it a coincidence? Is it a coincidence that all these statistics would raise in similar proportions, side-by-side, simultaneously? No,' I said, 'not a coincidence, but a grand mystery soaking in the energy of the legal system. What makes it all the more strange,' I said, 'is that this all fired off precisely six months subsequent to the empress's assassination.' You guessed it, my friend: the Wandering Stranger. I have been on his track even before his little nickname caught wind. Today—I mean, tonight is the night. It has all come down to this. This has all been thanks to my psychological analysis of the Wandering Stranger, which I was hoping to share it with you now." He took a brief glance at his pocket watch. "Twenty minutes until my speech! We have time, we have time."

"That is all quite remarkable of you, Fredric," said Corvo admirably and with expressive honour. "And you honestly mean to share early access of your speech with me?"

"If a man must store away his truth to a particular juncture, and boxes himself in such circumstances where he cannot share this truth of his at any given point, then it instantly loses its status for credibility. To know an idea is true you must simply slip in the question: 'What is there to hide?' I speak the truth, Corvo, my friend, and I mean only to speak the truth in the most precise manner I am humanly capable of."

"In that case, I would very much like to hear this 'second truth' of yours."

In the back of his mind Corvo's thoughts were starting to stumble on themselves. There was no more denying it: Apollinov was after the Wandering Stranger. He was dead-set on the Wandering Stranger. The whole of those six months in Dunwall must have been a concentrated effort, to learn everything he could. Everyone worth their heft knew the overwhelming probability that the Wandering Stranger lived in Dunwall. Opposing that established theory could only draw suspicion.

Worst of all, Apollinov was absolutely going to succeed if Corvo just let himself stand around. Corvo wanted nothing more than to exhaust Apollinov's work and have him leave, but after half a year of dedication that was unlikely, or at least not happening any time soon.

And then, right before Apollinov began speaking, for a very short amount of time, a millisecond even, a haunting thought half-consciously ran by Corvo: did Apollinov suspect him of being the Wandering Stranger? No, stupid question, every detective, general, and officer suspected every other detective, general, and officer, it was a cycle. Did Apollinov know he was the Wandering Stranger, without a shadow of doubt? May I remind the reader that two years ago Princess Celestia also knew Corvo was conspiring against them, well before it was revealed to Princess Luna.

It felt as if the chains of the past were tightening round Corvo. But in the present there was nothing he could do.

"I cannot help dwelling on this unexpected trait in the Wandering Stranger's character," said Apollinov, looking somehow mysteriously at Corvo, as though he were trying to make him aware of some secondary motive. "He evinces an irresistible desire for justice, for the greater good, a respect for the country and a recognition of the line which divides good and evil. That, as you must know, is the argument proposed by his supporters; but they are not wrong, per se. Facts are facts: the Wandering Stranger has done a great deal of good—no, not 'good'—a great deal of convenience for our world; crime has never been weaker; the very idea borders on the concept of peace, the dawn of it, at least. It is an unbelievably powerful argument, a rational argument, it is no wonder those in favour of the Wandering Stranger tend to win the vast sum of debates. But the blood shed by the Wandering Stranger is that of vengeance. Many of our good people were up in anger following the assassination of the empress, at the gates of the government in violent protest, in an attempt to initiate mob rule. It never went well until six months later when the sheer corruption of the high overseers was made public." (I should cut in to mention that Corvo was responsible for that event of transparency which practically brought down the corrupt officials) "Right after that, not even a week later, the first sightings of the Wandering Stranger became a reality. So, I repeat: vengeance is the primary mode of being which drives the Wandering Stranger, right here in Dunwall. And because this link of events cries out for vengeance, I suppose the Wandering Stranger was forced to ask himself what he was and what could he do in the ruin of his soul.

"The Wandering Stranger felt this, knew that all 'legal' proceedings were barred to him by his crimes and that he was a criminal under investigation, and not a man with life before him. Did this thought crush him, initially crush him? No, it did not crush him, because if it did crush him he would have surrendered himself almost immediately at the beginning. And so he flew to his plan of vengeance: first: remove any and all evil-doers from the painting; second: do not get caught; third: kill anyone, even the overtly innocent, if it meant remaining anonymous. Here in the countless murders of the Wandering Stranger we see in excess a love of effect, an almost romantic despair to set things right. In my opinion: a wild recklessness, but because we are even more reckless than him, he appears perfectly balanced, functioning in order, like a mastermind who can predict all possible outcomes. Yes, but there is something else, Corvo, something that cries out in the soul, throbs incessantly in the mind, and poisons the heart unto death—that something is conscience, Corvo, its judgment, its terrible torments!"

I could keep silent and not question him, for only the Wandering Stranger would object, thought Corvo, running the hypothetical dialogue in his head. But that could work against me. If I were not the Wandering Stranger then it would only be natural to play devil's advocate, as that is the only way to narrow down our theories and catch "him." Does he want me to—

"Corvo," Apollinov said directly to him, "you look like you have your concerns."

"I do have my concerns," said Corvo readily. "You suggest that conscience must torment the Wandering Stranger, but given his prolonged work he seems all too happy to be cutting criminals down. If conscience indeed does poison the heart, then I think the Wandering Stranger would accept his position. I do not think anything of debatability cries out in him."

"That is excellently observed, but—it does now!" said Apollinov adamantly, like rapture were about to burst from him. "What you say is true, or rather, it used to be true. We need only look at statistics, that is all, numbers are not affected by ideology. The Wandering Stranger has been hard at work to keep his record consistent: at bare minimum one criminal dead per week, almost always more, but one per week for an assured capacity, and many extending across the country. Recently, however, while the numbers have dwindled, the minimum remains at one every single week. The average has dropped remarkably, so why not this silly standard? An analogy I fashioned this morning, an underdeveloped one, but still: it is like you start sinking, and you desperately try to keep your face above water, just the part of your face which contains your mouth and nostrils; you absolutely do not care about the rest of your body, just that certain section of your face. The Wandering Stranger is killing less and less, but to be sure that nothing tipped out of place, he relied solely on his standard of one every week, which suggests that he does not wish to leave off a clue of one of two things: simple procrastination or the catching up of his conscience. The former is unlikely—possible and still up in the air, but unlikely. I compared the data available to me, and what have we got?—this little deviation began to form a trend six months and four weeks ago, so practically seven months ago. That, Corvo, is merely part one of the second truth, a prequel to the second truth. The rest is as such:

"What need had the Wandering Stranger of precaution if he himself is about to give up? Two or three times he almost missed the standard (based on the statistics we have of him). Does he know what drives a murderer now? If he did not acknowledge himself as a murderer, because 'murderer' carries a negative connotation, then there would be no backdrop of murderers to compare himself to, and by that logic he could not possibly know how murderers think. If, by our luck, he came to the conclusion that he is a murderer, lest he be totally insane, the Wandering Stranger would refuse within himself the very name; and yet, while impossible to fully speak out, he would need to end his career just to save himself from his conscience, that is to say, the admission of being a murderer. In moments of self-degradation men will bow their heads to any and all insults, any and all save for the source of that self-degradation. If we follow along this presupposition, then it should stand to no surprise that guilt alone—glorious guilt!—would hook itself into the Wandering Stranger's soul and drag him into the abyss, notwithstanding the struggle on the way down, which would be the one-per-week standard. But you know the facts, Corvo, you are intelligent enough to make the right illations. If and when the Wandering Stranger fails to triumph over himself, a process which started seven months ago, then his soul will pass into a new phase, perhaps the most terrible phase through which his soul has passed or will pass.

"It can be said with certainty that the criminal heart bring their own vengeance more completely than any earthly justice. What is more, justice and punishment in this world of worlds positively alleviate the punishment of nature and are, indeed, essential to the soul of the criminal at such moments, as its salvation from despair. In consequence, I have a hard time imagining, even conceptualizing, the moral suffering of the Wandering Stranger when it struck him the impossibilities of bringing peace to us while, at the same time, shedding blood. That, in and of itself, blasted his axiomatic presuppositions into oblivion, and there is no greater grief than the realization that what you dedicated your life to for so many years is false, and not just false, but abhorrently false. It is the exercise of cognitive dissonance. I am sure you are familiar with the terminology? Yes? Of course. When everything is over for you, nothing is possible."

"I see. So the Wandering Stranger cannot come to terms with his faults, and so he finds himself in a battle between the new ideal and his conservative work."

"Not just that. You see, Corvo, my friend, up until now I have illustrated a brief overview of the Wandering Stranger's psychological state, but now, more importantly, we must put practice to theory. If my assertions are correct, then we can accurately predict who he is."

"Really? Predict who he is? Just based on vague psychological diagnoses?" said Corvo in reproaching, albeit sincere, tones.

"I am glad to see a contrarian!" laughed Apollinov. "Many here take my word for gospel. That is wrong. Remember—complacency is a detective's downfall."

"Yes—but—anyway, I implore you to continue. What else can you say about the Wandering Stranger, and what can you predict?"

"Yes, yes, I will wrap up my second truth, and that shall lead to the conclusion:

By the way, I will note in parenthesis that this "conclusion" was really an in-progress one, far less developed than Apollinov led on to believe. But a solid theory, like any other, starts from the assumption that it is wrong. Apollinov's conclusion cannot be presented in its entirety, largely due to the fact that he did not share it, not even to his wife, whom he trusted more than anyone else in the world.

"It is difficult to say if the Wandering Stranger is scared of being arrested. I mean, what could possibly await him? Execution? Reconciliation? Flogged on a scaffold, by an executioner, with everyone watching? Ha, ha, my bad, that last one was just a little facetious remark, nothing personal. But in reality—nothing less than execution would be his punishment. Let us say that the Wandering Stranger is caught, he is pinned by a commissioner and a prosecutor. What would influence him in that moment? First, the influence of shock, of the prospect of being exposed for his crimes swinging back in his face like a pendulum. Secondly, the hope in the background that the fatal end might still be far off, that not until next morning, at least, they would come and take him. So he would have a few hours and that is much, very much! In a few hours one can think of many things. I imagine that he would feel something like what criminals feel when they are being taken to the scaffold, or even the electric chair. They have another long, long street to pass down and at walking pace, past thousands of people. Then there will be a turning into another street and only at the end of that street the dread place of execution! I fancy that at the beginning of the journey the condemned man, sitting on his shameful cart, must feel that he has infinite life still before him. The houses recede, the cart moves on—ah, that is nothing, it is still far to the turning into the second street and he still looks boldly to the right and to the left at those thousands of callously curious people with their eyes fixed on him, and he still fancies that he is just such a man as they. But now the turning comes to the next street. But that is nothing, nothing, there is still a whole street before him, and however many houses have been passed, he will still think there are many yet to come.

"I suspect the Wandering Stranger's soul is full of confusion and hatred, but I have faith in his strength of character. I have faith that he would not fall so easily and sweep everything behind him just for the sake of a silly existential crisis. I have faith that he would manage, which is why, on the basis of these findings, I have come to Dunwall. And then I publicly announce a soirée, and I make sure that every single soul within a one hundred kilometer radius knows of my name, namely, of my reputation, and that everyone should connect my reputation with the case of the Wandering Stranger. In light of this, I believe the Wandering Stranger would manage to come here, just to see what I have to say, even if it were out of spite."

"You think the Wandering Stranger is here?" cut in Corvo all of a sudden, not with surprise, but on the contrary, with ready reserve and curiosity. His pale lips contorted into a smile.

"I very well know for an irrevocable fact that the Wandering Stranger is here," replied Apollinov, returning an even stronger smile. "There are moments so terrible that even the instinct of self-preservation will abandon you. The criminal can only be made to speak by the sudden and apparently incidental communication of some new fact, of some circumstance of great importance in the case, of which he had no previous idea and could not have foreseen. The Wandering Stranger, perhaps on some subconscious level, came here exactly because of the unforeseeable, as if to tell himself: 'Now, now is the chance where I can atone for what I have done.' Alternatively, he is entirely conscious of this decision, and if that is the case, all the better for it."

There was a significant pause between the two men, and at last Apollinov added: "All that is left is the process of elimination. No women, of course—the Wandering Stranger is male—women are not capable of what he does. Someone who possesses extraordinary combative abilities—we know the piles of corpses left in his path, many of which held swords and pistols at first sighting, and forensic science almost always told us that fights broke out. Highly intelligent, a quick thinker, someone who is no longer an idealist, access to government records, for how else could he know who is truly guilty and who is being framed?—all in all, someone who is familiar with everyone in this soirée."

That excludes me then, thought Corvo, but gravely, and without much satisfaction, as though he came to believe that Apollinov threw in that final criteria as a trap.

"Would you look at the time!" exclaimed Apollinov, who had just now glanced at his watch. "Two minutes left. I better start clanging a fork on a glass. Look, most guests are already here, the noise is picking up. Any last inquires you wish to pose?"

"Just one, and I will be blunt for the sake of brevity: did you use to be an idealist?"

"Drawing parallels, my friend?" said Apollinov in an access of good-natured pride. "Ha, ha—but well observed. Yes, I used to be an idealist, a long time ago, in my youth. What gave it away?" His eyes suddenly gleamed.

"Nothing in particular," said Corvo, shrugging. "Just a blind inquiry. Yes or no, my curiosity would have been satisfied either way."

"The good side of apathy," remarked Apollinov. "Well now, everyone is here, I best get prepared, it will take only a minute, probably less. We should continue our conversation some other time, Corvo."

"Happy to, Fredric."

* * *

And so ended all that Corvo had intended to learn from Fredric Apollinov that night. I hasten to emphasize the fact that I consider myself far from capable of reporting all that took place at the soirée in full detail. Doing so with full explanation would fill an entire book, even a large one at that. And so, to stand on the grounds of my inadequacy as a narrator, I have confined myself to recount only what struck me. I may have selected as of most interest what was of secondary importance, and may have omitted the most prominent and essential details. But I see I shall do better not to apologize. I have done my best and hopefully the reader will understand that I have done all I can.

But just in case, I will quickly recount everything that took place following Corvo's initial conversation with Apollinov.

Apollinov was being fully transparent when he told Corvo he was going to give him an early access of his speech. Almost everything you have just read Apollinov tell Corvo was repeated in the much anticipated announcement. It was, however, done with more flair, and a few extra details were inserted in for the sake of effect, to truly present his psychological analysis of the Wandering Stranger as picturesque. The flow and word choice were significantly different at certain points, and he inserted an anecdote about his family heritage and what that meant for the dignity of detective work, but all in all the gist remained intact.

When Apollinov concluded his speech—his oath to capture the Wandering Stranger, his summarization of the nuances, et cetera, et cetera—the enthusiasm of the audience burst like a thunderous storm. Practically everyone, even those who were in favour of the Wandering Stranger's conduct, applauded, either by the overwhelming stimulation of Apollinov's rare sense of logic and confidence, or public pressure in the face of a true genius, where any objections would be met with hisses. In fact, so great was the consistency of Apollinov's argument that it was out of the question to play devil's advocate. Apollinov himself was genuinely touched.

There then followed, as it were, a sort of after-party in which everyone stayed for as long as propriety deemed appropriate. Corvo struck up several conversations with the other guests, many of whom he had met before. I will note one last little trifle before moving on.

Halfway through the after-party Apollinov completely disappeared. In the first half he was surrounded by our ladies and gentlemen every second, which led to some exclamation of indignation—and in a rather comedic fashion, too. But off of that he spoke less and less, changed from room to room, and eventually no one could find him. At the end of the second half, where many guests wondered where the host could have taken off to, the clock struck twelve-thirty, and the wife came to deliver the final goodbyes. It was strange to think on it: many of the more restless guests assumed Apollinov would never allow the Wandering Stranger to leave his mansion—it was unimaginable to do so after so adamantly declaring his mysterious presence—but then everyone did leave, and no one else continued to question it.

The talk of capturing the Wandering Stranger carried over the next day, not as energetically, but enough to leave its impression. I, however, am starting to get ahead of myself. Let's resume the story approximately forty-five minutes after Corvo bid his final farewell and took off in his own direction from the soirée.

* * *

The Hound Pits Pub. Corvo's favorite drinking establishment and one where he met frequently with friends. On any normal day it would have closed by midnight, but Corvo was respected enough and had enough history with the place to be allowed access. He sat at the table alone, sipping a mug of whiskey the bartender just filled up for him.

"I suppose you attended Mr. Apollinov's get-together event?" inquired the bartender, who was digging a cloth into a dirty canister.

"I did. It just came to a close," said Corvo after taking a pause for another sip.

"Feels like it took place at the end of the world," said the bartender, "you can hear his mansion all the way up at the north district, really something to think about."

"How could you know about it?"

"Word of mouth spreads like wildfire, Mr. Attano."

"So it does." Corvo drained his mug. "Ech, the whiskey is flat. Got any coffee?"

"I best not offer you any; coffee's gone cold." The bartender looked at Corvo thoroughly. "And who drinks coffee right after whiskey? Seems like harsh taste."

"Very harsh taste," Corvo practically muttered, making his way to the stand to place his empty mug. His head was aching, the back of his eyes would sting every few minutes. "May I have a wet towel?"

The bartender went into the corner, took a towel, soaked it in the sink, squeezed it tight, and handed the wet towel over to Corvo, who thanked the bartender and placed it on his head.

"Are you currently not working, Mr. Attano?" asked the bartender suddenly.

"I actually am working," replied Corvo, his eyes lowered. "Hmm, I'm up a stump, that is all."

"Well, I know very little about your cases, but you should pull through. I can say that much."

Corvo sighed, remaining completely still in his bent position. He could not recall the last time he felt this unmotivated to start a conversation; rather, he kept contemplating on some other idea, something distant and even grand, as though he had had an unpleasant premonition.

"I ought to be closing up soon," said the bartender with decision. He had finished clearing out the stand, and lit a candle; then, he wandered over to a hook in the wall which hung a large pair of bronze keys.

"Mind if I take the towel with me?" asked Corvo.

"Not at all, Mr. Attano," said the bartender with a friendly gesture. He started climbing the stairway to the second floor. "I will be back in two minutes to lock the door. Goodnight."

Corvo nodded and headed out. The silver moon had just begun to wane. Most houses were like black masses, made visible only by their outlines against the bluish night sky. For some time Corvo did not seem to comprehend the silence about him; that is, he comprehended it and saw everything, but it was like he expected something unordinary to strike up suddenly.

Once he was halfway over a bridge he stopped and took a look round. He darted his eyes to his hands, stared vaguely at them, blinking as if coming to his senses. He shot his head forward and drew a breath, realizing that he had left the wet towel at the Hound Pits.

"Ah, damn it," he said to himself, turned round, and continued walking. But given the cold weather, perhaps that was for the best.

Two things were on his mind. First: Apollinov's dedication to expose him as the Wandering Stranger, and what that meant for his work heading into the future; second: the fact that the Grand Galloping Gala was scheduled for the twenty-first of December, all of two days from now.

Large flocks of snow began falling down, indistinctly and sparingly at first, but in five minutes the pace picked up. Eventually the ground everywhere was cold with frost and snow, and a keen dry wind was lifting and blowing it along the dreary streets of Dunwall. Fortunately things were surprisingly dry, especially in this time of year.

Corvo didn't want to alarm himself. Apollinov had no evidence to hold against him, nothing could prove he held the identity of the Wandering Stranger.

But is that what really bothers me? thought Corvo. Like hell Fredric knows what to determine based on his personal opinions of psychology. But no, not that, I have no need to worry about that. I just have to endure it for two days, just two days!

But he suddenly came to a halt. He stood still in alarm—in an almost superstitious alarm, for a moment; then all secondary thoughts cleared away from him; he was conscious of nothing but his breathing, his covert trembling; his breath came and went; but the moment passed.

He leaned against the wall of a nearby house and calmed himself. He stood there for a minute. Then he immediately felt better and continued walking with some practically renewed energy. Thank goodness it was not another panic attack. Perhaps they really were at the beginning of their end.

But nevertheless, Corvo's mental perturbation increased every moment. He wandered down a street which passed by an abandoned park, looking absently round him, and paused in astonishment when he suddenly found himself in an empty space with rows of chairs round it. The look of the place struck him as dreadful now: so he turned round and went by the path which he had followed, until he reached a green bench which looked strangely desolate. He sat down on it and suddenly burst into a loud fit of laughter, immediately followed by a feeling of irritation. His disturbance of mind continued; he felt that he must go away somewhere, anywhere. Only two days till the Gala; that would have to do.

The snowfall stopped all of a sudden. The air felt colder now than before, even somehow darker where one could hardly make out the snow-laden trees more than a few meters away.

Above his head some little bird sang out; he began to peer about for it among the leaves. Suddenly the bird darted out of the tree and away, and Corvo instantly thought of the "fit of passion" Sombra told him. But he could not afford to delude himself; he was the one who had first said those three inconsequential words, well before Sombra could have known about it. Did he say it somewhere else, sometime else? Or, perhaps, a coincidence of universal implausibility took place?

But in light of "passion," and the journey he and Serath undertook with the ponies, he believed everyone knew their place. At times like these, to be aimless was to admit defeat. An old, forgotten memory awoke in his brain, and suddenly burst into clearness and light: it was a recollection of when Serath spoke to Corvo about the "infinite capacity for evil we all hold in our hearts," and then Serath had added that ordinary men are the most susceptible to evil, specifically and with emphasis, ordinary men of all.

"If only it were so simple," is what Serath told him. "If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?"

But Corvo had not long to meditate.

A little boy, about eight or nine years old, began approaching him from his peripherals. Corvo turned to look at this boy, and the latter froze in place, as if guilty to have been caught.

This boy was looking at him attentively. He was pale, his face thin-looking, his black eyes seemed to gleam solemnly; he wore a worn-out leather coat, trousers he looked to have outgrown, and black, rubber boots, the sort of attire you'd see on a peasant schoolboy. He trembled very much.

Corvo briefly scanned the area to see if there was anyone else nearby, perhaps this boy's parents or older siblings. But they were alone.

"Hello there," said Corvo, rising from his bench. He started walking towards the boy, but upon the first step forward the boy jumped back, as if in a start, but said nothing. All the colour seemed to have drained from his face.

"Whatever is the matter?" said Corvo in confusion, ceasing his gait. "No need to feel scared. Look, see, I am from these parts, I live here. Are you lost, or what?"

The boy shook his head, but with no evident defiance. He suddenly twitched forward, changing his whole posture, as if about to run at Corvo, but stopped and kept looking darkly at him.

"Do you need anything?" asked Corvo, looking inquiringly at the boy.

"I... uh-m... Cor-vo?" said the boy in a meek little voice, and again there was a vindictive light in his eyes.

"I am. My full name in Corvo Attano. What do your friends call you?"

But something extremely unexpected and exclamatory occurred, something totally uncalled for.

"Idiot detective, dumb and defective!" cried the boy in an angry, childish voice.

Corvo cocked his head, a change coming over his face. "What?"

"Defective detective, idiot-head detective!" the boy sputtered out once more; and he threw himself into a defensive attitude, feeling sure that Corvo would get angry and attack.

There was a long pause. At last Corvo spoke out: "You must be from the lower district. Where are your parents?"

The boy waited in silent defiance, bringing up his tiny fists as though out of premeditated spitefulness, shuddering all over from the cold. Unexpectedly, his eyes were on the verge of tears.

"You should not be here," sighed Corvo, lowering his shoulders. "You will freeze very soon, do you know that? Also, children really ought not to roam the streets at this hour."

The boy kept staring, feeling weighed down by his weak legs. His thin face was contorted with a sort of compulsion, like he were experiencing the early symptoms of a seizure.

"I really do not need to help you, but I very well could," said Corvo sternly, crossing his arms. "What is your name? Can I take you some place warm at least?"

But suddenly, completely out of the blue, seeing that Corvo did not intend to respond violently to the petty insults, instead of answering the boy broke into a loud tearful wail, his tears finally pouring out. He wept pitifully into the empty space of the night sky, not doing anything else, as if horribly pressured into something he despised. In that moment the darkness from his eyes had vanished.

Corvo raised his eyebrows in surprised, not sure of what to say at first. He quickly wandered over to the boy. But when he got close enough for all intents and purposes, the boy, his cheeks still wet from the weeping, flew into a fit of unknown rage. He flew at Corvo, and before Corvo had time to react, the spiteful child had seized his hand with both of his and bit down on his thumb.

But the boy could only fix his teeth in the finger for about a second. Corvo cried in pain and pulled back with all his might.

"You little rat!" he cried with flashing eyes, and delivered a kick to the boy's side, who instantly jolted and sunk down with a horrific groan. "I suppose you have never been whipped before, huh?" said Corvo angrily again, clasping his reddened thumb with his good hand.

The boy began screaming uncontrollably, blinded by rage; he sprang up and charged at Corvo. But Corvo closed the distance quickly, pushed him powerfully with a palm, wrapping his arm round the boy's neck and lifting him up. The boy was trashing, kicking, biting—struggling with all his tiny strength to break free from the grip.

Corvo forced the child chest-down onto the ground, and locked his arms behind his own back, immobilizing him.

"What is going on through that head of yours? Stop," said Corvo more calmly now that he had the upper-hand.

"Demon! Demon! Demon!" the boy was choking out. He had given up his vain efforts to break free, and was now weeping profusely.

"What are you saying?"

"Corvo the Demon! Corvo the Demon!" the boy still screamed in a cracking voice, and shut his eyes.

"What have I done to you? Shut it!" said Corvo imperiously, raising the boy to the level of his waist and began dragging how out of the park, still with his arms locked.

He managed to reach a nearby police station in only a handful of minutes, but the journey felt like it took an hour. The rage-filled child resisted the whole way through, hurling stupid insults at Corvo, kicking his legs, hurling himself every which way—it was like he wanted to kill Corvo, without understanding why in the first place, without cohesion.

When they got to the station an officer, middle-aged, who had likely been working in that particular station for a long time, rushed in to see what the commotion was all about.

"Good heavens! Cor-vo A-tta-no?" said the officer in alarm, involuntarily setting his sight on the child.

"Get the restraints," said Corvo. "This one tried to bite my finger off."

The officer was even more alarmed, looking at the boy in confusion. "What is the matter?" he asked.

"Later!" said Corvo. "He got too violent, keeps yelling and the like."

The officer stammered, growing more and more surprised, but given the circumstances he hastily strode to his desk, seized a pair of ovular locks attached to sets of chains, and bound the boy's hands and feet down (after the boy kicked him in the stomach). They tossed him into another room and locked the door. The boy was still screaming.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked the officer in the strangest perplexity, his voice huffing slightly. "Why is it that the child was screeching at you?"

"No idea," replied Corvo. He sank into a chair and exhaled wearily. "The little rat attacked me for no discernible reason. I met him at the park two blocks down the street from here—" And he pointed in the general direction they came from.

"The boy attacked you? Hmm. We never got that before in this area." The officer suddenly became silent, pondering, stroking his beard out of habit, as though searching for something but unable to come to a decision.

"Find out who he is, find out who his parents are, get him back to where he belongs," said Corvo abruptly. "Can you inform me of all that tomorrow morning?"

"I will do what I can, Mr. Attano. Come by tomorrow morning if you can."

"Thank you. I just need to figure something out."

"Perhaps the boy is an orphan."

"Perhaps."

"But you said he attacked you, eh? That is unacceptable."

"Listen, I know nothing about this, maybe this boy became lost and did not react well to a foreign environment, only he is restrained now. He repeatedly called me a demon."

"A demon, Mr. Attano?"

"At the end of May I began looking into a case involving peasants going missing from the lower district, particularly women and children. Just tell me what you can tomorrow morning. I need to go." Corvo rose from his seat, wincing slightly at the pain in his legs from all the kicking; he made his way to the entrance.

"Anything else?" put in the officer.

"No. Thank you very much for your help. Goodnight."

"Oof, very strange, but fine as it stands. Goodnight, Mr. Attano."

Corvo took off once more, this time speed-walking down the snowy streets. He was determined to solve this mystery, but first he felt it absolutely necessary to reach his house, warm up, and read over the relevant documents.

* * *

"A demon, a demon!" he repeated in unquenchable spite, striding broadly over slush and frozen puddles without looking where he stepped. True, at moments we wanted to laugh, loudly, furiously; but for some reason he controlled himself and restrained his laughter. He came to his senses only upon entering his home (and all but slamming his door shut). He hung his coat, stored away his weapons, and was quick to light a small fire.

He went over to his desk and put any unnecessary items in the drawer, taking half a minute to sort out the letters he read and did not yet read, setting about a dozen different papers on top one another in front of him. He spread them out a bit and scanned them readily.

It is a pity the story must move on more quickly and there is no time for descriptions; but it is impossible to do without observations entirely. Just like the soirée, I will not and, for want of skill, cannot recount every single thing Corvo did that late night. Even if I could you would not be very interested—it mostly comprised sitting round for a handful of hours, pondering heavily, not taking his eyes off the hearth, and reviewing the documents many times over. But because the reader must also be informed of these events should they wish to make any sense of the following narrative, they should know his most fundamental thoughts at the moment.

Corvo was melancholy and preoccupied. He had been studying the numerous "sightings" of the Wandering Stranger, that is, the dozens, perhaps over a hundred, peasant corpses that were discovered in the lower districts in the past seven months—and to no coincidence, all of which were tied to the Wandering Stranger. Someone was out there to either expose him or frame him—or someone was playing a very black joke.

Regardless of the specifics, he didn't give a damn about the motive, only the outcome and what that meant for him. He considered this being Apollinov's doing. A silly hypothesis, but he needed somewhere to start.

Would Fredric kill so many people just to get to me? thought Corvo. This all fired off in May, when I came back to Dunwall. Hell of an overlap. Hmm... did Fredric hire someone? I doubt that. How would he even manage something so intricate without getting caught in a net himself? No, it is not like him; he only arrived in June.

Corvo looked back to his notes. In an ironic sort of way, he was glad to have had that peasant boy attack him.

That means I'm suspected by the peasants. Why else, and how? But someone had to have told them it was me—rather, someone lied telling it was me. There is no way peasants lacking in formal education can fashion the idea that Corvo Attano, of all people, and a detective no less, is the Wandering Stranger. That tells me whoever is pulling the strings either knows I am the Wandering Stranger, strongly suspects me, or wants me to be him. One way or the other, there is a connection.

These killings had certain similarities among them. Namely, they all took place right before the dawn, an hour or two before folk were expected to wake up. Next, they almost all involved the swiping away of a woman or child, right off to the edges of their towns, and the bodies would be discovered the next day. Even when they became paranoid and stayed up all night, took shifts, begged for reinforcement from people like Corvo, many would still be whisked away and be discovered dead.

That boy probably lost his mother. Now it makes sense. But 'demon' was not his own word, someone had to have put it in his head.

But suddenly an exclamation of overwhelming complexity struck in his mind.

Is the perpetrator aware that I am looking for him? Up until now I have kept this investigation a secret. No one could know. Unless... I was being watched? Very unlikely. Too unlikely. Impossible; I would have noticed.

At last he heaved a sigh, resting his arms behind his head to lean back.

I wonder if Arbmos will die soon. He is seriously not looking good. And... "Ah, Corvo, focus!"

Corvo shot up. He suddenly got an idea, and was quick to scramble for a particular report. Finding it at last among the rest of the documents and letters he scanned it over twice and put it back down.

This one was written by a low-ranking official. Says here they found a wench's corpse on the side of her cabin, half her head scattered into an artistic mush. Good thing I visited the morgue this August, checked her body myself. The forensic anthropologist I hired, Van der Waals, confirmed residue of C-S fifty five... eh... caesium in the remains of her tissue. Chemical element caesium, isotope one-three-three. Caesium reacts violently with water, creates an explosion the size of an impact grenade. Awfully fatal.

For some reason Corvo turned in his chair to watch the low-burning hearth, conflicted over this reemerged information.

The head-busted woman incident is a unique case. Takes a real degenerate to spin out creative ways to kill his victims. But to go through so much trouble? You would need to travel the extra mile to steal a sample of caesium, shape it into a weapon, and transfer it down the city without the slightest mistake, or it could react with the moisture in the air. Who burns one's candle at both ends like that? More importantly, the only way to accomplish this is by obtaining access to the chemistry department. I need answers now, at least before Apollinov gets any further than he is right now.

Corvo seriously did not intend to sleep for the entire night, but exhaustion overcame his senses; he sat down for a moment on his couch to contemplate, instantly closed his eyes, then unconsciously stretched out on the couch and fell at once into a dead sleep.

* * *

It was dreadfully late when Corvo awoke. It was somewhere round eleven o'clock, and the morning sun was shining brightly on his face through the windows. He jumped up and saw at once that a few of the papers he had stacked up on his desk were sprawled out on the floor. He stared at this for a moment, and exhaled a sigh so heavy he felt his bones rattle. Corvo began rubbing his temples while he sluggishly put the papers back on his desk.

Never let yourself go at one in the morning, he thought sardonically, sinking back into the couch once he was finished. He looked to his right and saw the Outsider at the doorway. Corvo blinked twice, cast a glance at the charcoal-filled hearth, and looked back to his right.

The Outsider was silently and slyly watching him, with insulting composure, and even a sort of contemptuous condescension, so Corvo fancied, but one behind infinite tranquility and resoluteness.

"Well, do you know what you want to do now?" asked the Outsider.

"Yes," said Corvo, calmly and confidently. He rose up and went over to grab his coat.

The Outsider tilted his head in dubiety. "Truly?" he said. "Do tell."

"The families being cut down—nothing but charades to get to me. Whoever is doing this must know me somehow, knows I am the Wandering Stranger, likely upholds many connections and, by extension, access to many places. I need to know something about the chemistry department—something or other about anything. I don't know, really, I just need to hurry."

"Is someone setting you up as a scapegoat?"

"No."

"No?"

"I am leaving."

"I—ahh, fine then. I will remain watching."

"Of course you will." And Corvo took off in an almost rude form of haste.

The snow had stopped entirely, but it was cold, damp, and windy. Low, dull, broken clouds raced quickly across the grey sky; the trees rustled densely and rollingly at their tops, and creaked on their roots. The morning was very melancholy.

First of all, Corvo raced to the officer from yesterday, to check up on any progress or news worth telling. When he arrived the officer was present; a few others came and went, but for the majority of the time the officer was alone in the station.

"Anything?" asked Corvo.

"Taken away, Mr. Attano."

"Taken away?"

"You ask about the wicked child from last night?"

"Yes, of course."

"A gentleman came by early this morning asking about, claiming to be the boy's father."

"Really now?"

"He presented to me family documents, I performed a quick check and, sure enough, they were legitimate."

"But the boy attacked me. How could he have been let go so easily?"

"Apparently he was a schoolboy, recently expelled from his institution due to violent fits caused by hallucinations—doctor's report. The boy was mentally unwell, and he was scheduled to be treated. The whole incident involving you turned out to be an accident. The boy has a history of imagining strange things, conversing with himself, and running away from his home."

"So he was taken away to a hospital?"

"Psychiatric ward, Mr. Attano. As far as I am aware, the father was in his right to take his child away."

"Hmm. Yes, I have not a doubt of that. And one more thing: this father, could you describe him for me?"

"Oh, well, in a way. Tanned skin, thin-lipped, small and protruding eyes; quite the ugly complexion; mostly silver hair, about a finger shorter than you; bony hands, a hooked nose, wore a late eighteenth century frock coat, quite out of fashion if you want my opinion."

Seems very arbitrary, nothing out of place. "That is enough. Farewell, officer."

"If you say so. A good day to you, Mr. Attano."

Corvo felt like he was running short on time. Actually, Corvo was convinced he had run out of time entirely. When you have your back against the wall, he went on thinking, you just have to muddle through. Ah, devil take it!

And so Corvo, after having learned the essentials, decidedly changed his thinking and went straight to Arbmos. To add briefly, the man was stuck in his dreary home, being cared for by four nurses, two pairs each trading places once a day, that is, they would switch once every twelve hours, applying treatment, sorting out his belongings, and whatnot. This is because he absolutely and utterly refused to be transported to a hospital, even when heavily recommended, so much so that they were forced to find the alternative.

Corvo ran into a notable doctor—an assistant of Serath's—on the way there, struck up a quick conversation, and was informed that Arbmos' sickness was indisputable and, moreover, incurable. To Corvo's impatient asking whether "that means he is mad now?" the reply was "not in the full sense of the word, but perhaps close, abnormalities can be observed." They parted quickly.

It was already quite late (meaning it was noon) when Corvo rang at Arbmos' gate. Despite the man's terrible condition, Corvo knew he would be allowed to see him without hindrance. Such things are the same in Dunwall as everywhere else. At first, of course, access to Arbmos on the part of his relations and illness was hedged by certain necessary formalities, but after a while, though these formalities were not exactly relaxed, certain exceptions somehow established themselves, at least for some of Arbmos' visitors.

His house had its two rooms in the second floor, separated by a hallway. He rested on a cot in one, and the nurses toiled away in the other. Having knocked on the gate until it was opened to him, Corvo went into the hallway and, on the nurse's directions (who had him sign a record book, to establish that he was visiting), turned left and walked straight into the room occupied by Arbmos. The stove in that room was a tiled one, and it was very well heated. The walls were plastered with yellow wallpaper, all tattered, and behind it, in the cracks, cockroaches swarmed in myriad numbers, so that there was an incessant rustling. The furniture was trifling: one table in the corner, two benches along the walls, and two chairs by Arbmos where he lay down. On the table stood a small, badly dented bronze kettle, a tray with two cups of ginger tea, and a handful of pills. There was a pot of wilting geraniums in each of the two little windows.

Arbmos' pale, dry, sallow countenance betrayed an intense suffering; he looked like he was going to die in a day or two. His beard had all pull shrivelled up and vanished, his physical position so contorted you could have sworn he broke his spine. On a minor glance one would become convinced beyond doubt of his complete and extremely ill condition: Arbmos was weak, spoke slowly, and seemed to have difficulty moving his tongue. All morning he had been complaining of an insufferable pain in his limbs. His dry face seemed to have become very small, his side-whiskers were almost nonexistent, and instead of a tuft, only a thin little wisp of hair struck up on his glossy head. His left eye would squint every few minutes, which seemed to be hinting at something.

When Corvo sat down next to him Arbmos painfully shifted his whole body, but he was not the first to speak.

"Can you talk to me?" asked Corvo. "I promise to not tire you much."

"I certainly can," mumbled Arbmos in a faint voice. "Have you regained your honour yet, from the Unmasked Ball?" he added with a sarcastic grin, as though encouraging a nervous visitor.

"That was a very long time ago, I already forgot about it," replied Corvo, smiling for a second, but immediately snapping back to a serious face.

"Heh, was it now, long ago? Oh, what riddles real life contrives for people."

"I only arrived today—to see the mess you are in." Arbmos sighed, and Corvo said again: "But not only that. I need to ask you a few questions, if you think you can answer them. I was hoping you did not lose your mind so soon."

"Things occur so fast, all above our own reality."

"Not entirely sure what you mean by that."

"Excuse my composure, Corvo—ech!" he said with a cough. "When is it the last time you and I discussed reality?"

"Reality?"

Arbmos bobbed his head in a nod.

Corvo was stolidly silent for a moment. "We conversed during the Unmasked Ball, seven months back," he said. "Do you recall? I told you about my theory on the function of time: I described history as an amalgamation of threads which can be manipulated beyond the speed of light, each thread being a piece of time, such as an hour or minute. When you—" Corvo paused, and was silent for another moment. "My 'theory' was negligible, just something I fashioned as a hobby, it went nowhere."

"Nowhere?"

"Yes, nowhere. I was only invited for the convenience of the guests to ask questions about the Wandering Stranger. At the end of the day I am a detective, not a physicist."

"Did you say the Wandering Stranger?" Arbmos looked at him fixedly, closing his eyes for only a second.

"Good," Corvo practically blurted out, "we walk the same bridge. Look, peasant families are being butchered, and have been for seven months now. To my knowledge, I am the only certified detective who deigned to investigate this case."

"You... went there... the peasants?" Arbmos exclaimed, his lips starting to tremble strangely.

"Mhm—exactly. Everyone was surprised when I told them that. But it does concern me. A schoolboy from there, and I mean the lower district, assaulted me last night, called me a demon, nearly bit my finger off. And that is not the first time I was accused of these homicides."

"Quite the insult, Corvo. So you figured out that someone wants to slander the Wandering Stranger?"

"Potentially slander me in the process."

"But, Corvo, you must know that it is not you. Not you at all."

"Huh? What is not me?"

"You are not the Wandering Stranger. Ech! He is not you."

"The hell? 'Not you'? What do you mean by that?" Corvo was dumbfounded.

"You are not the Wandering Stranger. You are not him."

Corvo was silent for nearly half a minute.

"But I know very well it's not me—what are you going on about?"

"I—heh, heh—am just raving. Forgive me."

"But you... never mind. Listen," said Corvo firmly, "one of the peasant women was killed from a bodily combustion. We discovered traces of caesium in her remains. This was in August."

"I was supposed to give a lecture in August."

"Your last one was in March. That happens to be a five month gap."

"It is."

"Listen, you were sick in August, but relatively functional compared to now. Did any samples of caesium go missing in the chemistry department round that time?"

"Heh, caesium? Why would I know? I am a neurochemist, I have no business in inorganic chemistry."

"You share the same department. Surely you would have been informed of something as consequential as the theft of caesium. It is quite expensive to seal up caesium for laboratory usage. You must explain a great deal to me, Arbmos."

Arbmos began exhaling at length, as though utterly worn down; his eyes were dreadfully still.

"Tell me about your concern," Arbmos drawled out, seemingly deliberately.

"My concern lies in my good name being tarnished. I think whoever is killing peasants must be familiar with you somehow, and they stole the caesium in August when you were absent."

"You do not seem able to get over that caesium! Nothing was stolen, or you would have heard about it. If possible, head over to the university and ask the specialized chemists there, not me," he ended with a defensive air.

"Maybe I plan to do just that for today; I just happened to come across you first. Are you saying nothing was stolen?"

"Certainly not, Corvo. How could it? Again, you can go to the university, but..."

"Sounds like you are about to add something else. But what?"

"You can go to the university, but no one will tell you anything was stolen, it would constitute a waste of time."

"What was not stolen?" Corvo put in suddenly.

Arbmos blinked, looking at Corvo aimlessly, as though he were staring past him.

"Pardon?"

"You said nothing was stolen," replied Corvo with a frown. "Can you tell me what no one stole?"

I... pardon?" he babbled again.

"Are you paying attention, Arbmos?" said Corvo, somewhat taken aback. He had meant to test whether or not Arbmos was keeping track of the conversation, or if he was just spiting him. "You have to listen. A schoolboy, along with the other lower-class residents, have been told that I am the Wandering Stranger; and one of these murders ties back to the chemistry department, or so I believe. Is there anything I am missing, a variable I have not considered? This started seven months ago."

"Not seven months, Corvo. Nine months."

"Huh? Nine months? Why, that means it started in March. How could you know that?"

"I think it was nine months ago, this very year. It came to my attention in that time; and to your attention—seven months."

"Are you serious?" Corvo suddenly fired up. "Why not tell me that right off? You mean to say these killings began in March?"

"I think I do."

"You 'think' you do?" asked Corvo bitterly.

"The schoolboy attacked you because he believed you were the Wandering Stranger."

"That is the idea, yes. Wait, wait," Corvo suddenly began pondering. "Something you said does not add up. Something is not right."

"Something, Corvo?"

"You told me... listen, you said that someone wants to slander the Wandering Stranger, but I had not mentioned the Wandering Stranger in that context before you said it. How did you guess it is him who is being painted as the killer?"

"Did you not tell me?" Arbmos, once more, seemed much exhausted.

"No, I did not. I said that I am being blamed for these killings as the Wandering Stranger, only me, not the real Wandering Stranger himself."

"Is the Wandering Stranger not being framed?"

"He is, and I am being framed in his place. But you said—you—you somehow guessed that the Wandering Stranger is involved in all this without my mention of him."

"I might have guessed from the fact that you think the Wandering Stranger is being framed. What if the Wandering Stranger is killing peasants?"

"The Wandering Stranger hunts down criminals, we know that much, not helpless habitants from the lower district. No doubt he is being framed, and someone is convinced that I am him. Do you follow?"

"I think I do. Corvo, we can all guess mischief when it brews up in places no one looks. I do no guessing—I know it is the Wandering Stranger."

"Maybe so, maybe not; the point is, no one pays any mind to the villages down south, if their wives and children start dropping then so be it, but now whoever is doing this wants very badly to sneakily label me as the Wandering Stranger. And... in addition, however did this information dawn on you in March? I absolutely need to know."

Arbmos sighed again and again. A trace of colour flashed onto his face.

"Corvo, my dear, the truth always sounds improbable, did you know that?" said Arbmos with a bitter grin. "To make truth sound probable you must always mix in some falsehood with it. Folk have always done so. Perhaps there is something in it that passes our understanding. What do you think: is there something we do not understand in that triumphant cry? I should like to think there was. I should like to think so."

He slowly ceased speaking; but suddenly, as though on reflection, added:

"It sounds absurd that I—I of all people—could be mixed up in this dilemma of yours. Either you will be slandered as the Wandering Stranger once and for all, or so many peasants will pile up that to not investigate it would come across as unjust insanity."

The two men were quiet for a whole minute.

"You have said enough," sighed Corvo at length, notes of disappointment ringing in his tone. He got up and started to head for the door. "Stay well, Arbmos. Farewell."

Corvo paused at the doorway, expecting a reply, but when none came he left, walking more quickly than before.

As it turned out, Corvo did not visit the university. On his way from Arbmos he only stopped by for a place to eat, then proceeded to walk back home.

Arbmos truly is beyond repair, he thought on the way there. I will not get anywhere with him. But how did he know about the peasants before I did? Or was that raving, too? Should I go back? No, I left for a reason. Perhaps I ought to sneak down to the lower district as the Wandering Stranger, catch the culprit red-handed. But would the Wandering Stranger not have done that by now?

On this thought he stopped walking, pondered, and then resumed his gait.

Damn it! If anyone finds out—hell, if Fredric founds out, he will no doubt bring up the Wandering Stranger's deniability. Then again, if I had been planning these murders could I have been such a fool as to give such evidence against myself beforehand? No, not at all. What am I even thinking about now? I need a drink.

He delayed once more, this time to pick up a bottle of whiskey at the marketplace, a small one. At last he arrived home, hung his coat, and continued to work at his desk. For all that was going through his mind right now, he could not afford to ignore his usual cases.

His chief feeling was one of relief at the fact that Apollinov could not hope to figure any of this out before he took off to the Gala in Equestria, which he had already covered for by planning to travel to Driscol (a city north of Dunwall) that same day, and letting many of his colleagues know about it. He did not want to analyze the reason for this feeling, and even felt a positive repugnance at prying into his sensations. He felt as though he wanted to make haste to forget something.

But that would do him no good. Questions still arose: who was killing these peasants?—the one who knew he was the Wandering Stranger, the one who "coincidentally" started this seven months ago when he returned from Equestria. It could not be Sombra, he was dead; not Apollinov, obviously, nor anyone he personally knew.

An hour later, still with these despairing thoughts in mind, Corvo took off once more, this time to the scene of a particularly recent homicide assigned to him. It was something or other involving an aristocratic get-together, and one of the attendees turned up dead, pushed out of a window, fell right on a thorn bush. Corvo was hoping work would straighten him out.

That said, this does not concern us. But if you must know, Corvo rather quickly uncovered the killer: it was the host of this get-together who wished to get his greedy hands on a fortune he was positively convinced belonged to him. That led to the murder in more ways than one, claims of righteous belonging, debts recorded, another victim for Corvo to kill as the Wandering Stranger, et cetera.

We will resume the story much later on.

* * *

But not too late. The sun still hung in the horizon by a thread, and the sky was beginning to darken.

Corvo felt mechanical, like he was strolling off wherever his feet should carry him. His work for the day was finished, and he had to start preparing for his supposed trip up north; and yet he wandered with little to no aim or reason, as though he was unfamiliar with his own city, which couldn't be further from the truth.

In that moment he felt like entering a confectioner's shop to rest, but thought better of it. He was in a state of nervous excitement and perturbation; he noticed nothing and no one; and he felt a need for solitude, to be alone with his thoughts and his emotions, and to give himself up to them passively. He loathed the idea of trying to answer the questions that would rise up in his heart and mind. I am not to blame for all this, I am not the Wandering Stranger, he thought to himself, half unconsciously.

He turned round a street corner and encountered someone he did not expect to encounter in public, especially at a time like this.

"Corvo, my friend!" exclaimed Apollinov, extending an open palm to greet him.

"Well, well, Fredric!" Corvo returned the exclamation, firmly shaking Apollinov's hand. The latter's grip was unforgivably strong. "What are you up to?"

"Oh, it is quite a lengthy tale to tell," said Apollinov, and a great flush of theatrics came over him. "I got too eccentric, you see, too dedicated. My wife told me I had started to become a bother to her, I would not leave her alone on any of my trivialities, always asking too much of her, which is why I went out for a walk. Ha, ha! Oh, but my wife is a terrific woman; I do not deserve her!"

"Did those 'trivialities' involve the Wandering Stranger?" asked Corvo readily, hunching his shoulders.

"Precisely that, Corvo, my friend!" Apollinov flashed his ghostly dark eyes at the mention. "The soirée went off without a hitch; I am very satisfied with it. Furthermore, it is almost complete, all of it, nearing completion."

"What is 'almost complete'?" asked Corvo, mildly confused.

"Why, the psychology, that which moves 'at full steam,' as you cleverly declared. The Wandering Stranger's psychology is galloping, it will come to a full stop soon, right at the cliff; and the cliff, oh, the cliff is almost here, the full stop will ensure his capture. Eh, I see I am complicating things. I do apologize."

"Not at all, I understood most of that: the Wandering Stranger will be revealing himself soon. But just what do you mean by the cliff exactly? I know it is a metaphor, but what are you alluding to?" threw in Corvo all at once, rapidly, as though mildly taken aback himself.

"Eh? Nothing really, the cliff is an abstract, Corvo, just a little imagery to help with the visualization. By cliff I mean he will reach his end, some form or other."

"Ah, I see."

"You may say so, but not even I see it. Psychology is quite possibly the most tangled and mind-boggling field one can study, it can give you everything, more than the natural sciences, more than philosophy. If you wish to locate the most complex thing in the entire universe, you must look no further than a human being. Our modes of being are so inconceivable you would not think it possible to describe on paper, which is true: there is no scientific model for consciousness. And so how can I, a mere human being in a finite state of existence, deal with the overwhelming complexity of the Wandering Stranger's mind, something not even I can comprehend? Those are the trivialities I was talking about."

"You mean to say putting practice to theory, is that right?" Corvo grinned. "You can theorize all you want, but to truly understand the Wandering Stranger is to go beyond our own understanding of psychology."

"Right on the money, Corvo!" laughed Apollinov. "I can only try again and again, always to no avail. The Wandering Stranger is a very learned man, but so clever that he looks down upon my humbleness. Aha, that is the cliff. Ex-ac-tly that: a self-reinforced cleverness is, in my opinion, that which halts your psychology and allows your vulnerabilities to be displayed in its tragic glory."

"You seem to be jumping back on whether or not you will capture the Wandering Stranger. Will you any time soon?"

"Eh? Oh, yes, today I will capture him."

"Today?" said Corvo pedantically, almost with a stutter, but he managed to remain composed.

"Very much so it is today. Are you surprised?"

"Well, to a degree I am surprised. Just now you said how the Wandering Stranger is impossible to understand, but at the same time said his career will come to a screeching halt at the end of a cliff. In what way are you going to capture him?"

"A certain way or other. Say, would you like to help me capture him?"

Damn it, why now? If I say yes it could seem like I am trying to get close to him just so I can be cleared from his suspicion, which is what the Wandering Stranger would say. But if I say no then it could draw greater suspicion to me, because he might think the Wandering Stranger would know that saying "yes" would be a bad move. Just be honest with him. "I appreciate the offer, but I must decline, at least for the time being."

"Hmm, I understand," said Apollinov. The countenance resembling his face, however, was virtually impossible to decipher, testifying acutely to his expertise; one could not tell if he was relaxed, or dubious, or on the verge of breaking off into an extempore lecture. Beads of sweat began to form on Corvo's temples.

"The day is almost over, Fredric," said Corvo. "Are you convinced the Wandering Stranger will come to you, or is it that you know where he will turn up next?"

"The former, to be sure."

"He will reveal himself? Has he given up?"

"No. He revealed himself at the soirée."

"Really! He did?" said Corvo in animation. He rested a fist under his chin, deep in thought. "You talked to everyone there. Who is it?"

"You must wait a little longer, Corvo. Everything will be made public by tomorrow morning at the earliest. I intend to produce quite the spectacle."

"Build up anticipation?" Corvo smiled.

"Naturally. Why do you wish to know so soon? Intending to beat me to it?"

"Heh, no, I only—"

"Wait. Look at the sky, the stars beginning to sprinkle in. You see what clouds, what a wind has risen? I was, in essence, hiding during the soirée."

"Hiding? Fredric, you were out in the open."

"Yes, but I was hiding my vulnerabilities, that is, my weakness from the Wandering Stranger, who was there, he was there, gazing at me. Last night I suddenly thought, 'The Wandering Stranger is here, next to me, or down the hall there, or behind me, or wherever he was. As such, how am I to simultaneously reveal his identity while keeping my distance and not ruining everything I have build up to for so long?' The answer: get him to say something only the Wandering Stranger would say. I did just that."

Is he bluffing, or what? thought Corvo. "I cannot help but think back to our conversation. Did you say something to me on the sly? Uncover me as the Wandering Stranger, eh?"

"Oh, perhaps not on that path exactly! It is all very simplistic, Corvo. So simplistic, in fact, it could render you stock-still, in a state of immobility from such over-thinking." At this Apollinov slowly and mysteriously raised his index finger, pressing it against his temple, as though making some sort of signal; his eyes gleamed with a grey light. "I owe it to psychology at full steam. The Wandering Stranger very well knows I am sniffing for him, and the soirée is, on the surface, some preliminary sniffing, while in actuality he knows it is all the culmination of my investigation in Dunwall, oh, he knows it well. I am the man who will wrong him, I have come to wrong him, I am speaking to him, and he is waiting for some message, or I him. If I make an inquiry which, should it be answered in a particular manner, would reveal him as the Wandering Stranger, what is he to do? Why, answer the inquiry in that very particular manner, because only the real Wandering Stranger would dodge it. Okay, fine, but how about a trip-up: also state something which anyone would feel compelled to address, something worthy of objecting to, and see if the Wandering Stranger does indeed object. But he would not. For what reason has he to put himself out there for further analysis, scrutinizing the man who wishes to catch him, when he can just play along?"

"Not sure if I follow, Fredric," began Corvo straight off, giving Apollinov a sternly inquiring look. "You mean you would say two specific things to the Wandering Stranger: one plainly worth objecting to, and the other one the Wandering Stranger would have to object to so he could avoid suspicion? Did I get that right?"

"Consistency, my friend! It all hinges on consistency! If he objects to one, he positively must object to the other, otherwise why fear not objecting to the particular 'trap' that would reveal him as the Wandering Stranger? Men trapped within the confines of their own souls, wreathed in torments, will at once forfeit all sense of consistency for the sake of their goal. That is it: we all have our own goals to advance towards, and that requires inconsistent thinking, lies, contradicting oneself, and so on and so forth. If a man is consistent he will constantly face truths of immeasurable inconvenience, he will suffer greatly, precisely because the man is not omniscient, he does not know everything, and so the truth, if approached consistently, will harbour the light of consciousness, the truth, that is, the light which shall display the errors of his way. Corvo, the truth is something that burns, it burns off deadwood, and people do not like having their deadwood burnt off, often because they're ninety-five percent deadwood."

"But you imply that to be consistent you must be omniscient, and because no one is omniscient, no one is consistent; and therefore literally anyone can be made the Wandering Stranger."

"Ah, the difference lies in the will of effort. If one has a why, then one can bear any how. You do not roll over and give up on everything just for the admission of your own ignorance. We know very little, but we strive ever onward. That idea is what encapsulates the human soul. Ah, look..." Apolliniv gazed at the sky for a moment, and soon enough tiny drops of water began drizzling down.

"Raining, is it?" Corvo looked up as well. "We best not stick around in the rain. It has been interesting talking with you, Fredric, but I ought to get going."

"Of course, of course, you must go, for I will start bombarding you with needless words, bordering on poetry!" chuckled Apollinov in a deep voice. "Now you know what my wife felt. Ah, all is well. Take care, Corvo."

"Take care, Fredric. Farewell."

The two detectives strode off in opposite directions, and the rain began to pick up.

Damn it all! Corvo's mind cried out. He knows I am the Wandering Stranger, he caught me at that damned soirée. This is all over. Damn it! I... I need to kill him! But—what can I do? Go back and kill him, right now? No, no, not in the open, not like this. Seems like he is heading back to his house. Should I follow him? Not yet, too risky. He said today, and I would wager it to be just shy of eight o'clock currently. That gives me four hours, if I take his word at face value.

Corvo began to reflect intensely. But I will not give a detailed account of his thoughts, and this is not the place to look into that soul—its turn will come. And even if I tried, it would be very hard to give an account of them, for there were no concrete thoughts in his brain, but something very vague, and, above all, intense excitement. He felt himself that he had lost his bearings. He was fretted, too, by all sorts of strange and almost surprising desires; for instance, as the sky grew black and it became apparent that a storm was imminent, he suddenly had an intense inclination to go down, open the door to Arbmos' house, and beat him. But if he had been asked why, he could not have given any exact reason, except perhaps that he loathed the fact that the sick man had lost his mind, which indirectly put Corvo in an even graver position than necessary. On the other hand, Corvo was more than once that day overcome by a sort of inexplicably humiliating terror, which he felt positively paralyzed his powers, both physical and that of his Mark. His head ached and he was giddy. A feeling of hatred was rankling in his heart, as though he meant to avenge himself on someone. Who was there to hate? Serath?—or the Outsider? Ridiculous.

With a peculiar repulsion Corvo decided to go back to Arbmos—the reason, he believed, was for further questioning, despite the certain fact that it would do him no good. In truth, he wanted to see Arbmos again for "some reason" or other. This is what went subconsciously in Corvo's mind.

Perhaps Corvo went back because he felt vexed at not expressing himself properly; but yet that was not it. Not really, anyway. It was for "some reason."

* * *

The doorway was dark and gloomy at any time; but just at this moment it was rendered doubly so by the fact that the thunder-storm had just broken, and the rain was coming down in torrents. And in the semi-darkness Corvo distinguished Arbmos laying still on his cot.

Just to add, Arbmos had actually gotten worse in his condition. During Corvo's first visit the sick man was dying, but now, at this moment, he looked like he had died long ago and was being kept alive by some sort of spell. It was unsightly, to say the least.

After repeating his encounter with the nurse Corvo sat down in the same chair as last time, which had not been moved. The only real change made to the room was a small, handheld mirror that had been placed against the wall on the table.

"Still hanging on, Arbmos?" said Corvo in a low voice.

There was a long pause at first. Eventually Arbmos moved his sunken eyes to meet Corvo's.

"I won't keep you long, I won't even take off my coat." Corvo stopped short. "So you stare and say nothing? Lost your voice? Listen, I have only one question, and I need an answer, just one."

Arbmos still remained silent. Suddenly, without a motion of hand or anything, he turned his face away.

"What is wrong with you?" said Corvo, raising his voice.

"Nothing."

"What nothing?"

"It is no matter to you. Let me die alone. Leave me be."

"No, I will not and cannot leave you be. Answer me this: how did you find out about the slaughtered peasant families in March, when it only came to my attention in May?"

"I quite forgot how," said Arbmos with a contemptuous expression, and, turning his face to Corvo again, fixed him with a sort of wildly hateful look. "You seem very ill yourself, your face is sallow; you do not look like yourself."

"My health is irrelevant; answer the question."

"And why have your eyes become so red? The whites are quite red. Are you suffering greatly, Corvo?"

"Listen, I will not leave without an answer," said Corvo irritably.

"Why bother me in my final hours then? Why must you torment me?" said Arbmos with suffering.

"Eh, the devil! Cut the histrionics, answer the question and I will leave at once."

For at least ten whole seconds Arbmos was still as stone, not even blinking. Corvo was about to say something, but "I have nothing to answer you!" broke out from Arbmos.

"I assure you I shall make you answer!"

"I do not understand you, Corvo," Arbmos wheezed out. "I thought you and I were friends; you were very polite to me in the Unmasked Ball. What change has come on you?"

"We are not in the Unmasked Ball. We are in the now."

"Why do you keep worrying?" Arbmos suddenly stared at him, not so much with contempt now as almost with a sort of repugnance.

"I worry because you will not answer my question." Is this little interview all in vain? I still did not confirm if he is all there, mentally speaking. I have to be quick about this.

"Is it because you will be unmasked soon? Is that why you worry?"

"Unmasked? What on earth do you mean by that?" reproached Corvo, utterly baffled.

"You do not un-der-stand what I mean?" drawled Arbmos reproachfully. "Why would an intelligent man such as yourself want to put on such an act?"

Corvo gazed at him silently. The unexpected tone in which Arbmos now addressed him, full of unheard-of arrogance and spite, was unusual in itself. There had been no such tone at their first meeting earlier today.

"Do you even comprehend what I am asking of you?" said Corvo at length, his voice almost shaking. "Hell, do you even comprehend the words that come out of your own mouth?"

"Quite so."

"Are you sure?"

"Corvo, my dear, go home... sleep peacefully... do not fear anything. Everything will be alright, everything alongside your fit of passion."

Corvo gave a start. He jumped up and seized Arbmos by the shoulder.

"Tell all, you deranged sponger! Tell all!"

Arbmos squeaked in pain. Corvo, realizing what he was doing, let go instantly.

"Eh... ah... eh..." Arbmos began huffing with some noticeable effort. "D-do you know... I mean... do you understand why you are here?"

"I understand only that you are crazy. You have lost your mind."

"Don't you get tired of it? Here we are, just the two of us, so what is the use of putting on such an act, trying to fool each other? You are the Wandering Stranger, and have been all along. Heh, heh."

"So you think I'm the Wandering Stranger, huh?" Corvo went cold.

Something shook in his brain, and he began shivering all over. Now Arbmos in turn looked at him in surprise: he was struck, at last, by the genuineness of Corvo's fear.

"So you never saw this coming?" murmured Arbmos. "What sort of attitude are you showing me? Why get upset so readily? Let me relay some verse I know:

Come now in the despairing land,
But dark they all stand
Redemption and drink and dastardly light
Upon the world victory is a blight—

I cannot remember the rest. Heh, heh."

"You know what?" began Corvo. "I am afraid that this is all a dream. You: a dream. A ghost is sitting there in front of me."

"There is no ghost, Corvo, besides the two of us, and some third one. No doubt they are here, that third one, between the two of us."

"What? Who is here? What third one?" exclaimed Corvo, looking round, his eyes hastily searching for someone in all the corners.

"The third one is destiny, Corvo. Destiny is life, and life is evil."

"Tell me what you know!" shouted Corvo in a rage, but with some constraint, as though attempting to conceal the shaking in his voice. "You are either crazy, or you taunt me. Talk!"

Arbmos kept watching him inquisitively, as before, with no trace of fear.

"Rest assured, Corvo, I will talk," he finally said in a weak voice. "Those dead families from the lower district—all my doing, every single one of them. Now you will die, very, very soon."

"What the hell!" cried Corvo, and, jumping up quickly from his seat, he reeled backwards so that his back struck the wall, drawn up tight as a string. He looked at Arbmos with insane horror. It was as if he had forgotten that Arbmos was a helpless man, and he a man in his prime with magical powers.

"You went away for some time, without forewarning, and when it was known that you came back, I set it all up," continued Arbmos, not in the least disturbed by Corvo's fear.

"You?—killed those women and children? And the caesium?"

"All me, Corvo."

"But—no, wait—how? You are horribly sick; you can barely move."

"Think, Corvo, think. I got an eager bunch to conduct my business for me. Some people will do anything for coin."

"But... why?" And Corvo suddenly flared up, and rushed up to Arbmos. "Damn it, you despicable creature! Why do all this? Why?"

"Why, Corvo? Simple: to expose your identity as the Wandering Stranger. This was all according to plan, to say, it was to distract you. Mr. Apollinov knows this, he knows everything."

"He knows!"

"You should at least take your coat off, Corvo, or you might get all sweaty."

"Wha—? Damn it all! Listen, I am not the Wandering Stranger. On what level of self-delusion are you operating on to reach such a conclusion?"

"No need to scold me. If you are not the Wandering Stranger then you have nothing to worry about. The 'truth' will reveal itself in good time."

"Not true. You attempt to frame me; I might be locked up due to false accusations because of you."

"You truly think I do this out of some conventional justice? I don't care if you kill criminals in your spare time. Go right ahead, don your mask, raise your sword."

"You don't care? Then what is going on in that head of yours!" Corvo shouted this time; he was beginning to act out of style.

"You better get going, Corvo. Mr. Apollinov will capture you in the next handful of hours, and after that?—heh, heh, who knows the echelons of torture they will put you under. Or perhaps public execution..."

"Ah, to hell with you!" Corvo began marching out. "Time alone will end you soon enough!"

"Before you head out, Corvo," Arbmos cut in, even with a bitter smile, "I have but one last thing to tell you. I promise it's of capital importance. Please listen."

"Huh? What is it?" Corvo turned round, seeming struck, blood rushed to his face.

"You see the mirror on the table? Yes, that one. You noticed it when you walked in, I can tell."

"Yes. What of it?"

"A mirror reflects all, Corvo, even the most insignificant details. Look into a mirror and you will see yourself in reverse, but everything else in the background will be in reverse, too. You would not notice that, would you, because you only spend time looking at your own face in the mirror. That is superficial. A mirror reflects all, everything, everything, even the abstract. And the reflection of malevolence is... malevolence."

Corvo shook his head in disbelief, not falling for the nonsense Arbmos was spewing—possibly another distraction. He hurried out without even closing the door, walked past the nurse without saying goodbye, and stormed off onto the streets.

* * *

How long was he in there for? Hopefully not too long. But why did it matter? Corvo's head was spinning.

When he left Arbmos' house he walked on intrepidly, but after a minute he stumbled, and nearly fell over. He felt his determination bound by some sort of new sensation in his heart, but one he could not make any sense of.

He was overcome by insufferable depression, which grew greater at every step he took. Corvo had been depressed before, he had been in situations which would even give one depression and he made it out perfectly sane; but this he could not reflect on properly. Very little made sense. Where was he going? To his house? No, definitely not, or rather not immediately.

The Gala! he thought. There is still time!

As he walked along the streets he noticed how abandoned everything had become. Even places such as markets, or certain houses, went dark. True, it was officially night time, but even now one could expect a decent number of lights still beaming from windows, tiny bells ringing, or the occasional passer-by.

At first he was concerned, but upon turning the corner into the street where Serath lived some windows were still glowing; in the distance he spotted folk rushing indoors due to the pouring rain.

But eventually his apprehension grew too great for him to bear. With his hands in his pockets he lit his Mark, activating his Dark Vision, and nearly had a fit. Beyond the block ahead, down the road, there was a figure resting against the wall, facing his general direction. Judging by the highlight it was wearing a uniform and held a pistol in its hand. Corvo subtly turned his head left, viewing two other figures at his side, on the other end of the building. There were probably others on the rooftops, signalling to one another.

He was being followed. But by how many? Were they guards, or a few hired hands from a certain gang?

This must be Apollinov's doing, thought Corvo. His face had become unimaginably pale. But they will not arrest me just yet, or they would have done so earlier. I suspect they are waiting for me to arrive home. But why? Just to ensure an alibi?

Corvo picked up his walking speed.

Serath should be home right now. I can convince him to come to Equestria today. Surely I can. I cannot show up to the Gala alone if the ponies are expecting him, too.

It seemed like an eternity—what with the torment of being followed, and the rushing storm—when he arrived at Serath's front door, and knocked three times. This was to his benefit: if he took Serath with him it would confuse his stalkers, including Apollinov, and they would be forced to delay just enough to buy him more time.

"Coming!" Corvo heard Serath's voice shout out. There was a clang of the lock, and the door opened. "Corvo? I was not expecting company tonight."

"Had to shake up the schedule. Is your wife home?"

"Yes, she is. Please do come in! Wait, wait, stay on the mat. Goodness, you are all soaked!" said Serath as he closed the door, and the sound of rushing rain became partially muted.

"Eh, yes, apologies." It only now registered in Corvo's brain that he had been wandering in the rain this whole time, and that now his coat was completely damp and heavy. He was brought a towel to dry up, and a bucket to pour out the water from his boots. A sharp chill swept through him.

"Did you not think to bring an umbrella?" asked Serath after everything was put away.

"Slipped my mind," sighed Corvo; he walked into the living room, sitting down in a leather chair by the fire pit. Across from him was another chair, in between a sofa, and a portrait of some famous historical figure Corvo did not recognize hung on the wall; at both sides of the living room were hallways leading to separate rooms, both covered by portieres. There was an immense concentration resembling on his face, as though his mind were somewhere else.

"And, now that I take the time to notice, you look unwell. Very unwell. What happened?"

"I accepted a case this morning, had to analyze some corpse, took me all day. Perhaps I caught on to a fever."

"Well, this is very sudden of you. Would you at least care for a drink?"

"Water please. Thank you."

"Corvo, what a pleasant surprise," said a soft, some might even say sugary, voice. The portiere was lifted from the hallway's mouth, and Serath's wife came up to behind the sofa.

At first glance she seemed to be a most ordinary and simple being—she was pretty, not drop-dead gorgeous, but pretty, and quite timid, even round people she knew. She was a rather short woman, plump, with a soft, even, as it were, inaudible way of moving her body. Her steps were completely noiseless. She had wrapped round her plump neck, white as snow, and her shoulders a pink linen shawl. Her face was broad, and her jaws even protruded a bit; her complexion was very white, with a rosy tint high on her cheeks. Her eyes were blue, and they sparkled in the light. She smiled at Corvo with an openhearted expression.

"A pleasure to see you, Eolina," said Corvo with a weak smile, fleetingly bowing his head.

"Darling, would you mind fetching Corvo a glass of water?" said Serath, sitting down on the sofa.

"Oh, of course. Are you on business, Corvo?" asked Eolina, tilting her head.

"No, nothing official." He exchanged subtle glances with Serath. "Just here to discuss something among ourselves."

"Sounds very exciting," she remarked in that soft voice of hers.

"Ha, ha, Corvo often gives me a mental workout," said Serath, returning the warmth, striding up to his wife and laying a kiss on her lips. "Honey, the water please."

"Oh, right. Be right back." She gave a little bow and went back down the hallway where she came from.

Serath, still smiling, sat back down.

"Are your children asleep?" asked Corvo.

"Yes, tucked in. All is in order."

"Good, just wondering. Serath, listen"— Corvo leaned in on his chair —"I think we should go to Equestria right now."

"Right now?" said Serath, somewhat surprised. "Is it the twenty-first already?"

"No, I mean we should go a day early. I only ask you because I could better manage my time that way."

"Hmm, well..." Serath pondered for a second. "I am on my break today—and tomorrow, so I guess I can go. Are you sure today? The ponies will not be expecting us."

"I find it the most convenient time for me. A day early should not be a problem. In fact, perhaps we can lend a helping hand."

"On the day before an organized festival?"

"Well, when you put it like that..."

The portiere opened up again and Eolina wandered in with a rectangular glass of water in her hand.

"Thank you kindly," said Corvo, leaning over to receive the glass carefully.

"Not a problem, Corvo," replied Eolina, still with a simple expression.

"Lina, my angel, I will be heading out till tomorrow," announced Serath, casually and evenly.

"Oh..." Eolina blinked. "Right now, are you? Whatever for, dear?"

"Late night study is all, down by the archives." That said, Serath got up and headed for the closet to get prepared; he grabbed his frock goat and a coffee-coloured umbrella.

"Be back soon, dear," Eolina whispered faintly to Serath, kissing him quickly.

"I will, I will!" Serath chuckled. "Not like a book will kill me or anything."

"So sorry for coming in unannounced," said Corvo, smirking amiably, "and for stealing your husband away. This concerns some things we need to look into. We should be back by tomorrow night at the latest." He drained his glass in an instant.

"Eh, wait, tomorrow night?" Serath gave Corvo a look.

"Uh, just a guess; you can never predict the future," Corvo said this while he hurried to grab his coat, still wet; he had to fidget through the thing to put it on.

Serath shrugged. "Here, catch," he called, and tossed Corvo a second umbrella, a dark-turquoise, long, with rubber grip.

"Thank you," said Corvo, latching onto the umbrella as soon as it flew near him.

The two men bid Eolina farewell and went off into the dark storm, without much conversation till the two reached Corvo's house where he kept the inter-dimensional mirror.

Speaking of Corvo's house, it rounded up to be a twenty-minute walk from Serath's on a good day, but given the current climate, they were slowed down to thirty minutes, maybe even a bit more.

During the way there Corvo used his Dark Vision several times to scout out anyone in their vicinity. Indeed, he was being followed, there was no disputing it. When they turned the corner, right there down the alleyways, figures armed with pistols and swords lay waiting; when they past by these figures swept back, keeping their distance, as though Corvo were being studied from afar.

He was getting seriously annoyed. Fortunately it never evolved to anything beyond mere spying, and before they knew it, they arrived at their destination.

Corvo unlocked the door so they could enter, both hung their coats and umbrellas, and made sure they had everything they needed. Corvo dried up and switched to a sleeker greatcoat he owned; he stashed his folding sword and crossbow away, just for precautions—you could never be too careful.

"Do you have the presents?" inquired Serath, peaking into the billiard room.

"Yes, I have yours with me," replied Corvo. He went over to his drawer and pulled out two little boxes: one was glossy and wrapped in an emerald green paper, with a dark green bow on top and a card that read: "From: Serath Hemsworth," and the second, also glossy, but with striped patterns of azure blue, a midnight blue bow and a card that read: "From: Corvo Attano." Corvo handed Serath his respective gift.

"I still did not thank you for holding onto this box for me," remarked Serath.

"Not a problem at all, my man. I still did not take a gander at what you bought. Remember, it had to be something unique, something you would never find in Equestria."

"Yes, I remember," chuckled Serath, waving his hand. "We will find out soon enough. I am just surprised you decided to go this early"— he started buttoning up his frock coat, only the first few, which he forgot to do back at his house —"but so be it. In fact, the sooner the better."

"Right, right. You go on ahead; I need to check something quick."

"Do not take too long," Serath called out as he entered the billiard room. "Good thing only the two of us can cross." There was a shimmering sound, and then silence.

Corvo was deep in thought for a moment. He looked with a strange sort of hope at the boxed present he held before him, but made nothing of it. Suddenly he realized that he was just unproductively standing round, and then cast a glance out his window with Dark Vision: there were a few other figures right there, right down the street, watching obsessively. One of them vaguely looked like Apollinov. He cursed in an undertone and, with renewed energy, marched quickly down the billiard room and into the magic mirror.

Chapter 11: The Grey Book

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

Chapter 12: The Final Plan—Price of a Soul

The light from the candles waned to small flickers when Luna entered the room. She took two steps forth, then stopped, seeming fixed to the ground. There was resolution in her expression. The same resolution, although somewhat worn down from trepidation, shone in Corvo's eyes. Everyone in the room felt like something disturbing, an abomination of events, was about to take place.

For a whole dizzying minute, perhaps a bit less than that, Luna, Corvo, and Serath stared each other down without a word. Corvo's frame of mind suddenly changed.

"Where were you?" he asked, trying best he could to conceal his trepidation. "I mean... look, you embarrassed your sister. What happened?"

"Do you take me for a fool?" said Luna, looking him straight in the face.

"What?"

Luna broke into a bitter laugh at such a minimal reply. "Is that it? 'What?' Do you think nothing would pass between you and that accursed book?"

"Wait a bit, stop," Serath rushed in, "we better not speak over one another. This is not what you think, Luna, I can assure you of that."

"Really? Then what is it?" she said, menacingly enough to give Serath a start.

"I mean, we are still attempting to answer that question ourselves," said Serath.

"Then let us answer it," said Corvo curtly. "Be honest, Luna, there is no need for animosity: you never lost your memories of Sombra, did you? When he was defeated, you still remembered helping him. Am I wrong?"

"So that happens to be the theory? This is what you and Discord chased after?" A shadow passed over Luna's face. She exhaled loudly. "I thought you were wiser than this, Corvo."

"How do you mean: wiser?"

"What exactly did you suppose your theory would entail? Find the book and expose my wrong-doing?"

"No, Luna. No. I never meant to entail anything. I am searching for the truth, nothing more."

"Oh?" Luna snarled. She became noticeably cross. "Tell me, oh great Seeker of Truth, to where do you intend to take that book?"

"I need you to sit down, we have a lot to talk about."

"Answer the question!" replied Luna in bitter reproach.

It should be noted that, up until now, Corvo was making a conscious effort to respond with calm and reserve. Last thing he needed was for things to escalate anywhere beyond threats. "There is something," he was processing in his mind, "something that she knows, that I do not. I need to uncover what that is."

"Luna, sit, I implore you," said Serath, slowly raising his arms and pointing to a nearby chair.

"You are all so very dishonourable," Luna continued, with disregard for him. "Only an hour ago I felt afraid to find you both, afraid even to touch my hooves on these very floors, where the illusion took place. But no, I can no longer stand it! Why did you have to come back? Why?" she cried all of a sudden, in a frenzy, turning back to Corvo.

"This is not your fault, Luna," said Corvo firmly. "For pity's sake, this is literally not your fault. You were under a spell, a hallucination of some sort. True, we were going to show your sister these messages, but perhaps we may reach an arrangement, meet somewhere in the middle. We can help you, Luna." He took a step forth, a strained smile spreading on his face. "There is no need to vent your anger. I understand, understand it only all too well. No one will be harmed."

"R-right!" Serath, seizing the opportunity, barely stammered in. "The emotional scars you have developed must be dreadful, and so, to carry the burden of obedience under Sombra, it is only natural to feel neurotic. We will not make light of it. Corvo and I are your friends. We have become friends, that is."

"Your sister does not need to find out, at least not today, or tomorrow," said Corvo again. "We will go at your own pace. Simply put, do not get angry with yourself, and especially not at us. Come, sit, tell us about this book."

"The last few pages," said Luna, in a drawling, breaking voice, "they are not lies. Everything you read there is absolutely true, to the very last stroke. I've been to see King Sombra. It was him, him who persuaded me to destroy myself," she continued, still addressing Corvo. "That moment, within the illusion, he and I shared a whole hour together, separate from you and my sister. Can you imagine that? Just me and him, you and my sister being helpless to stop it." The corners of her lips were trembling. Corvo and Serath started at her tone, at the sheer audacity of her words. Serath, and especially Corvo, did not expect such intimate bluntness from her.

"Well, that's enough, anyway," Luna cut her ravings short. "I simply can't let you leave."

"Wait, no, back up," said Corvo in surprise. "What did you just say? You spent an hour with Sombra, in the illusion, or something along those lines. Did I get that right?"

"Do your memories fail you, Corvo? Us three arrived at the foyer, the illusion began to collapse, and that, I assume, is when you awoke. Tell me, did you wake immediately after my sister and I disappeared?"

"A handful of seconds later, I suppose."

"And yet a noticeable missing link sticks out: the time when you broke free from the illusion and the time my sister and I did the same. Time dilation is a particularly tricky subject."

"So we perceived time differently? What of it?" But a thought suddenly struck Corvo, and his legs went cold. "Wait, now it makes sense. After you disappeared, right before Celestia woke up, Sombra created an hour-long juncture between you and him. Is that how it worked? We were frozen in time, and Sombra used the opportunity to bend you to his will?"

"I am so sorry that happened to you," said Serath quietly, pondering on Corvo's words. "I am sure you resisted his magic then. But a whole hour, with no one else but you and him—well, you could not have done anything in a realm where he reigned supreme."

"What in Equestria are you two doing?" asked Luna with a flat, constrained voice, as though she were on the breaking point of losing any and all patience; quiet anger flashed in her dark eyes. "Are you... Corvo, Serath... really think I'm this daft? Are you both mocking me? Will you keep pretending that I'm the victim, will you ignore the facts for the convenience of your own situation?"

"And just what are we ignoring?" asked Corvo. "Look, we wish to help you—"

"If you want to die then just keep talking!" Luna roared with all her might, and sparks of magic shot from her horn.

Corvo and Serath looked at her speechless, their eyes fastened on her dangerously glowing horn. At least another half minute of silence passed. Their faces were working with calculated apprehension, one could tell my merely gazing at them. Serath began sweating, the blood was rushing to his face, he did not know what to do.

Corvo, much to his disappointment, knew exactly what Luna was referring to, and he had hoped it did not come to this. Suddenly all traces of evident worriment left him, and he quite unexpectedly assumed a more assertive and irritated look. Noticing this change, Luna had calmed down somewhat.

"You have already been informed on all that is relevant," she faltered at last. "Those last pages are all true, and I conversed with King Sombra for an hour—not a simple minute or two, which would be more than enough time for a mind-control spell to take effect—but the full extent of sixty minutes. You—tell me—what happened."

"Fine. Just... fine. There never was any mind control," said Corvo slowly, throwing all caution to the wind. "In that hour-long juncture Sombra succeeded in convincing you to join him in his schemes, to cast aside all past relations and work undercover to overthrow the very foundations of Equestria. That was the plan with his black smoke. It was the master plan all along."

Serath's face went pale. He looked at Corvo, then back at Luna, his mind utterly scrambled.

"Luna, you..." he began, hesitating, as though forgetting how to speak. "You chose to join Sombra? You... you chose to betray us, to betray your sister, to betray your world? Clearly you are mistaken, or you have been misled. There is no way this is you. This is all—I mean, it is all unworthy, the very suggestion is unworthy."

Luna kept on with her fixed, solemn, and pedantic posture; her face had a look of blank aimlessness, as though she had lost some train of thought or other, and the fixed stare in her eyes was unpleasant, in spite of their glowing expression.

"I truly, truly dreaded this possibility," said Corvo bitterly and with hard emphasis. He frowned once more. "But everything pointed to this, did it not? Why revere reality when it inflicts so much tragedy?"

"I presume you both would like to know why," Luna practically rung out almost mechanically. Unbeknownst to her, however, her eyes had started to become noticeably red, round the pupils, that is, as if they were bloodshot.

"So this really is the truth?" said Serath, his countenance reflecting his grim surprise. "Go on, Luna. Why? Why this? Why now? I would rather this all be just one big misunderstanding."

Luna's lips twitched for an instant, and right after she said boldly: "I cannot say, Serath. I don't know the reason for doing what I did."

Corvo and Serath nearly had a collective fit. They tensed up, not knowing what to expect now, feeling irrevocably that they were in the wrong place, and that reality was misconstrued. But, in time, Luna remained in her position, and both men were in states of apprehensive disbelief.

"What the hell did you say?" asked Corvo at length, in extreme agitation.

"Should I repeat myself!" exclaimed Luna, with feeling she could not repress. "Did you not understand?"

"So, you confess to treachery," began Corvo in venomous reproach, "and you have the gall to behave like that? What in the absolute hell are you thinking? What is going on in that head of yours?"

"Hey, hey, hey," Serath cut in, taking particular notice of Luna's strange irritation, "did you really think you could get away with that? Please tell the truth, I beg of you. This is no time for further deceit. You can no longer run away, Luna," he ended with shades of desperation betrayed on his face.

"Unimaginable catastrophes have occurred—because of me," broke from Luna in a voice not her own; she was unwell, judging by her glittering eyes. Her lips were strangely compressed like a thread. "My emotions have been left unchecked, and—and this is what I get? What do you want from me?"

"We want the truth, you damned traitor," snapped from Corvo angrily. "Either you testify, or to hell with the stupid arrangement. Talk!"

"I don't know why!" cried Luna; every feature on her face was twitching and working, like she were in a sort of frenzy. "Sombra sat me down, he talked to me, he paid attention to every word, every breath, that escaped my mouth. He confirmed everything my subconscious sought after, he even explained this fact to me, and confirmed even that. Then, there in the illusion, he made me feel like he understood the whole of my existence, like he comprehended every thought that has ever sprung from the recesses of my mind. The jealously of my sister, my form of Nightmare Moon, my nightmares—the nightmares above all else! Every objection I held he assured me with something, he promised me so much... at the expense of my sister, of Equestria... and yet, on top of it all, his words felt good, they felt meaningful, they felt right. I joined him. There. I made an effort to undermine all of our attempts to defeat him, because I wanted to see myself the way he saw me. It is all based on perspective, and he destroyed mine. In hindsight, I have no idea what persuaded me. I don't know, Corvo. I don't know, Serath. In hindsight, I don't know what came over me. Perhaps it was a deep-seeded spitefulness which possessed my spirit. Perhaps I chose evil out of pure spite, because feeling dissatisfied with my state of existence was exactly what satisfied me. Perhaps I joined him out of idleness borne from resentfulness, I was resentful, and to idle is a vice. But nothing comes to me. There is no logic anymore, no facts, just my response and the shadows covering it. I... I... don't know why. I don't know why I joined him."

She stopped short with a catch in her throat.

"What kind of depraved joke are you playing?" said Corvo through his teeth. "To defy your own sister and assist in the genocide of your country just because—because—because what? He promised you something that you wanted? Was it freedom? Retribution? Were you lonely, or complacent, or what? Eh, the devil! This is all too surreal. You're sick, Luna! You must be sick in the head!"

"But then you—you actually did it?" said Serath, and felt himself that he spoke against his will. He face became deathly pale. "This whole time you kept quiet and deceived us? That is so cruel!"

"Say what you like, it's nothing but a vice," said Luna with suffering. "Back in the garden, Corvo, I laughed. Do you recall? I laughed and I begin to understand why. Every second of our journey I bore the burden of treachery, I knew it well, the repugnance of my actions was right in front of me, but I still kept the act, wearing the mask of companionship, every solitary second. I wanted something—perhaps it was a little piece of me taken away when I was first banished to the moon—I betrayed my sister in the name of sheer, subconscious spite. I can only laugh at the outcome. Everything is cruel."

"This cannot be happening," Serath let spill out, almost trembling, as though with great effort. "Luna, for three days straight did we not endure the thick and thin together? Did we not share the same roof, face the same dangers? Were we not together in times of comfort, both uneasy and soothing? Each day or night I awoke I was put at ease by the company of you ponies. I enjoyed the conversations we had, the stories we shared during the high tides. If it were not for you, and your sister, and the others, who knows what would have become of my sanity, trapped in a magical realm with death standing at the door. But you..."

"How did you do it, Luna?" said Corvo. "Back in the locomotive, when we slept throughout the day: to think that you could sleep like a log—right next to your victims. How did it feel?"

"Was everything a lie?" asked Serath pedantically, stepping forward. "How can I be so sure this scenario is simply not another act? And when we first met—did you lie as well? When you told me about yourself, your history, your interests—were you lying to me then, too? Was it all... just a lie? Was it? You... just what were you thinking this whole time? Go on, answer me. What was the point? What were you trying to prove?"

"She probably doesn't know as well," replied Corvo with hidden vehemence. "Take my word for it, Luna, I have been on the receiving end of betrayal before, but never anything like this. None of this matters anymore. Whatever it is you were thinking, forget it. Why should I care what you pretended to be? This was your choice, your own free will; you are entirely complicit in your own demise. You are a traitor to all of Equestria."

"N-no!" cried Luna, boiling up again. Hot tears began gushing from her eyes. "Tell me who then. You, Corvo; you, Serath; tell me who chooses to be this! What do you think I am exactly? Do you think this is what I aspired to be? Do you think I enjoyed it? If the ponies found out they would loathe me—and they would have every right to. I am a monster. I deserve to die for what I've done. I can live a thousand years and still not know peace, never again can I atone for my sins. Please, please try to imagine such unspeakable darkness. I have tried everything, but what little respite is there for me?" Suddenly her whole expression and voice changed, as though she had unburdened her soul with this outburst of sudden emotion and was growing kinder with every word. "But it was never a lie! Do you understand? I enjoyed your company, Serath, more than the others. I truly thought of you as a friend. I never meant for it to be an act, only... now I'm not so sure anymore."

"Shut up!" yelled Corvo in extreme anger. He whipped out his folding sword, and his Mark glowed brightly. "Get the hell out of my way, or I will do to you what I did to Sombra."

"The door is locked," said Luna in a low voice, as though depleted from all her energy. "And I cannot allow you to leave, after all that I have told you, there's no alternative."

"Wha—! What the hell is that supposed to mean? Open the damned door! You have a grand total of one second to let us out, or else. What, you think this is a bluff? Ha! You must be more deranged than I thought. I take no issue in killing you, Luna. If the need arises, I will cut you down."

There was a short pause in which nothing happened.

"Fine," said Corvo; he froze time to a complete halt. He quickly closed the gap between him and Luna, and, raising his sword, swung across her neck with the intent to decapitate her.

When the metal of the blade made contact a blue web of electricity materialized, pushing back whatever was opposite of it; the sword, along with Corvo, was mildly thrown back. The blue electricity covered Luna's body for a moment, then it rapidly died down.

"What the hell..." said Corvo to himself. He struck again, and again his sword bounced back. He repositioned himself in front of Luna and, with all his might, jabbed his sword directly into her eye; but now the protective magic barrier covered her face. In the span of ten seconds he swung at her at least a dozen times, until a shower of blue sparks filled the air.

A pain struck his chest, and the glow of his Mark started to wane.

Luna's horn was still glowing. Time began to move now, slowly and pedantically. Her face rotated to face him, and little by little her horn charged up.

Corvo's face was completely aghast. He shot a look at Serath, then back at Luna—her horn was encompassed with a raging blue flame; it started to get faster and faster as his Mark died down.

Without a second thought Corvo turned round and dashed to the back of the library, not before attempting to grab hold of Serath. But within the two steps he took he heard a deafening explosion behind him. A nerving shock washed over his body, his heart skipped a beat, and his Mark turned black.

When time resumed an unimaginable force, something like shockwave, blasted from Luna's horn, destroying everything in its path. Corvo and Serath were launched backwards, along with the flying bookshelves and tables; the former instinctively lit his Mark once more, slowed time about halfway, and teleported to the far end of the library. He tripped, time resumed, and a bookshelf tumbled over and stopped just above him.

A cacophony of crashes and destruction drew closer, for a few seconds, waves of dust and debris spewed in every direction, then the sounds of the leftovers of a demolition remained.

For at least a whole minute Corvo did not move, waiting for silence to take place.

How did I forget? thought Corvo, ignoring all the pain in him as a result of the crash. It is almost impossible to kill an alicorn. I need to get out of here.

With a heavy grunt he flipped over onto his stomach, and began to crawl out from under the bookshelf. The ceiling was cracked in several places, and two pillars were knocked down. All the windows were broken. Piles of ruined furniture and books littered about the place.

The library had been obliterated.

First of all, Corvo went on thinking, making sure to be as quiet as possible with his movements, I need to find Serath. He lit his Mark, activating his Dark Vision, looking searchingly all about the place; in no time he spotted Luna's figure at the other end of the room; she was moving in his direction, likely looking for them. Damn it, not now. I need to... I... gah! Blood spilled from his mouth, and his headache returned with twice the force. He fell down, panting like his life depended on it, and flipped over onto his back. That attack was worse than he imagined. But something else was coming over him, something dreadful and possibly even fatal.

"I know you are still alive, Corvo," he heard Luna's cold voice call out. Soon enough the fall of her hoof-steps came within hearing range. "Come out."

Very carefully now Corvo rose on one knee, holding onto a nearby piece of furniture for support. He made his way round another pile of splintered wood and rubble. He needed to get further away from her.

"What the..." he whispered to himself, unable to contain his thoughts. "Ser... Serath?" There was an arm sticking out indistinctly from beyond a corner, flat on the ground, utterly still as if chiseled out of stone.

With what felt like a burst of renewed energy Corvo hurried his legs, down the path he saw the body. He found Serath lying still, stretched out rather uncomfortably, his back slightly inclined against a bent table.

"Serath, get up. We need to leave," whispered Corvo more frantically, bending low and snatching his sleeve. His heart was pounding so violently that he could practically hear it.

But then it hit him: Serath was far too motionless. Not the slightest rustle was audible, nor the slightest breath. Corvo stared, feeling that the more he stared, the more deathly and quiet the room became. And he finally, with a shudder, focused, not on the body, but on a giant planck of wood, likely from the ceiling, which had fallen down vertically; it pierced right through Serath's torso like a kabob stick, even breaking a bit into the ground beneath him. There was very little (if any) blood, but Serath's eyes were open and colourless.

Corvo, in his state of extreme ambivalence, all around in disorder, processed these facts before his very eyes, and his knees gave in; he stumbled away and fell back down on his back.

At first a trembling sensation disturbed Corvo's whole being; he felt ice cold and weary. He was straining to align his mind with the current moment—with what mattered—but he could not control the scrambling of his conscious. He wasn't sure what to think anymore, and every second the pounding of his heart added to the growing vagueness of his mind. His perturbed state was, at last, only broken by the return of Luna's hoof-steps, which sounded closer this time.

It all came back to him. He was in the now. He understood everything at once.

"Hey, Luna..." he started out loud, raising himself on an elbow. His face was white with an unnatural rage. There was a ten second pause in which he said nothing, and Luna carried on with her advancement. But she was listening. He knew she was listening very attentively.

"Luna," Corvo began to continue suddenly, as if there was never a pause, "you lying piece of filth. Always going off on how we ought to trust one another, never shutting up about how it is our duty to stick together to the very end. You played us all for fools, huh? And here I took you for an honourable pony, a pony who remained calm under pressure, a pony who would put her friends before herself. That all must have been a joke to you. Well, was everything a joke? And I... to think that I, at some point, considered even you a friend. Just... you... you are—just—an absolute abomination, the worst, on all levels. No one, no pony, could ever hope to compare. Listen, Luna... I cannot see you right now. I have no idea what sort of face you're making right now, what you can possibly be thinking. But all I want you to know is that... you truly are the worst piece of filth." Corvo pushed on both elbows now, rising up. His voice became louder, more pronounced. "I bet throughout the history of Equestria—no, of ponykind, there has never been a pony as terrible as you. I could likely search through all of your history books and never encounter someone a fraction as evil as you." As he spoke he finally stood straight, his eyes burning insidiously. "Are you listening to me, you murderous, conniving traitor? All this time... all this premeditating... are you happy with the results? I hope you're pleased with yourself, the miserable hypocrite that you are—otherwise what was the point? Damn you... damn you to hell!" He took out his sword, and his Mark lit up. "Just thinking about you makes me want to vomit. The very image of your face is enough to sicken any decent pony. You are the greatest mistake this world has ever known. You don't deserve death. You deserve worse, infinitely worse. You are a psychotic, back-stabbing murderer, an oversized pest, a revolting specimen of a pony. The universe would have benefited if you never existed in the first place. Everything would be better off without you. Nightmare Moon was your fault—you deserved worse than mere banishment—that was your true self. If you never existed everyone would be happier; your sister would have been happier; Equestria as a whole would have progressed much more than it has now. Your entire presence is an existential threat to everypony's survival. You are—the absolute—worst! Your existence is the culmination of sin itself. Wasteful trash like you should not be allowed to exist. What right had you to come into this world? You're an embarrassment to all of us, a blight. You need to die! You have to die! Right now!"

With supernatural force he, at first teleported, then struck Luna square in the face. The magic barrier caught his strike, the blade cracked and snapped in two, and he was blown back. Corvo used the momentum to slide on his feet and came to a halt. The upper piece of his sword, now broken like a barbed razor, clanged on the ground.

"I need to erase you!" he cried in a fit of untold wrath. The sparks and glow emitting from his Mark bent and contorted the air round his hand; paths of heat connected from his Mark to the smoking candles scattered on the floor. His hand was smoking.

Luna composed herself with the air of utmost nonchalance, as a pony who was only interested in getting this business over with. One could not tell by a simple glance what she was thinking.

Corvo hurled the handle of his blade at Luna, and right as it bounced off her horn, he flicked his wrist, and a wave of red flames swallowed her whole. She was consumed in a miniature explosion, objects of all sorts were combusted near her. Corvo held her there with a struggle; he raised his arm and put even greater pressure to increase the temperature, until it was too great for even him to bear. At last he ceased the assault, the fire evaporated, and Luna stood there, unharmed amid scorched ground and flames.

"Give up," said Luna imperiously. "You cannot hope to kill me. Once I deal with you no pony will have heard of this."

"You really think things will pass that easily?" Corvo spat out, his face covered in sweat.

"Yes, I do. You will not escape me. Now hold still..." Luna concentrated all her magic in her horn and aimed it dead-set at Corvo.

So this really is the end for me? he thought. It seemed, in the moment, that all of that burning rage had left him, wasted in that instant. He felt more at ease now, and things began to slow down. He wanted to move, to at least slow down time again and avoid her attack, but he couldn't bring himself to it. He realized there was nothing he could do, that with all his strength, all his magic, he would never defeat Luna in a battle. Corvo had nothing left.

"Wait," he said at length, breathing heavily.

Luna cocked her head back. Her horn was now fully charged, but now she remained still, looking at him as if in disbelief.

"Huh?" she said. "Are you begging for your life now? Why wait?" When he said nothing, a smile contorted on her lips. "Well, this is charming; let me play along. Wait for what, Corvo? Wait for me to change my mind? Wait for two or three more seconds of life? Wait to think up of any last prayers? I never took you for someone so weak. I thought you were the type of cold-blooded killer who would stoically accept his death. But your last words are 'wait' and nothing more?" she added, chuckling.

"No," Corvo drawled out. "Wait for me to catch my breath."

A change quickly came over Luna's face. She blasted a magical projectile at Corvo; but he used his Mark to teleport, reappearing not too far away behind a pile of rubble. She noticed his location at once and strode over to him. He was stumbling on his legs, struggling even to get up.

"This truly is amusing," said Luna, charging her horn again. "I expected more of you. You tell me to wait because you can't stand to see it all end?"

"You already killed my friend," said Corvo, taking steps back. "I am not going to die today."

"So what was all that about 'erasing' me?" Saying this, Luna suddenly wrapped her magic round Corvo's arms and legs, holding him in place. He tried to force himself free, but to no avail. His Mark was finally burnt out.

"All that projecting," Luna went on, "and nothing came of it. There is no point in delaying the inevitable. No pony will come to your rescue."

"I will."

An unknown golden flash arose from all round the room; the magic which had bound Corvo instantly vaporized, along with whatever else Luna's horn was producing. She yelped, blinded by the bright light, and fell over. Corvo, too overcome by the moment, attempted to escape, but he unfortunately tripped and caught himself with his elbows. He shielded his face with his arm.

Eventually their blurred vision returned to normal, and the intense light vanished. Princess Celestia stood there, her own horn aglow.

"I stopped by your room, in case you forgot," she told Corvo with a concerned frankness. She cast a glance at Luna, who was shocked at the sight of her sister.

"How much have you learned?" asked Corvo.

Celestia hesitated to answer, then replied: "Enough."

"You could have intervened a while ago," Corvo spat out, walking very slowly across the room. "Find the grey book, read it." He paused; every fiber on his face was contorted into anger, but he could not verbally express it. He sighed heavily and said: "I am not coming back again. Ever." He stopped at the door. "Do me a favour, would you? Find Serath's body. He is back there. Find him."

"Serath's body? What do you—? Oh... I... I understand."

"Bury him for me, or for yourself. Do what you must."

"Sister, please..." Luna rung out, as though she were a peasant pleading to a king.

She felt a jolt go up her spine when Celestia gave her a deathly stare, not one meant to instill fear, but quite the contrary, Celestia wished to display evident goodwill and indiscreet curiosity, but she could not handle her conflicted emotions. Her eyes were glittering; she looked ill from anxiety.

"I can't even ask you why," said Celestia in a constrained voice, her throat tightened. "You confessed to everything. There's nothing left for me to do; I can't defend you, Luna."

"B-but... no, above all else, no," whispered Luna, now visibly sobbing.

"Go ahead, decide her fate," said Corvo firmly, but his voice failed him. He turned the door open and left, without looking back.

"Do you understand... do you?" Celestia now, too, began to silently weep. "I'm sworn under oath to never lie before a court. And do you have any idea what the Supreme Court of Equestria will say? Well, do you!"

Luna was silent. Her countenance reflected shades of extreme bitterness. She dropped her head, her eyes lifeless and cold.

"You don't want to prate, do you?" said Celestia, after a pause. "To think this all passed under my nose. Luna, you committed treason in the highest order. You murdered Serath. You lied to me. The best I can do is spare you the public scrutiny."

"H-huh?" Luna looked up with a pathetic look.

"I'll have to pass down your judgment on the spot, and carry it out myself." With every word spoken Celestia's whole figure faltered more and more, as though merely standing straight became a struggle; she looked exhausted, mortified, and her eyes betrayed a shaken spirit. One would guess she was evidently depressed, and hated herself for it.

Luna was intensely surprised by her sister, who, as time went on, gradually became ill-faced and spoke more dejectedly.

"There is no way I can sugarcoat this," said Celestia gloomily. "It will stand as my obligation to... I... I'll have to banish you to... the moon again."

Luna's eyes flashed. She suddenly jumped up, her mouth agape in horror.

"You can't do that," she said quickly, smiling nervously. "No. N-no, no, you would never resort to that."

"The last time you were banished it was predicated on attempted treason. What you have done now is significantly worse," the tone of Celestia's rung out almost in an echo, as though she had more to say but could not bring herself to it. "I'm sorry. I really am."

"No!" cried Luna, spreading her wings and flying straight past Celestia with the intention to escape; but her sister swiftly seized Luna with her telekinesis, and pinned her down.

"Let me go! Let me go right now!" Luna was in a a frenzy, almost to the point of madness. The sheer grimness on her face indicated a feeling that the world was going to end tomorrow.

"Why are you fighting? How do you think I feel? There's nothing left for me!" said Celestia through her teeth, doing the best she could to hold back tears. "The Supreme Court would give you nothing less than an execution. I won't let them kill you. I won't!" She stopped to strengthen her magical hold, as Luna now activated her own magic to fight back.

"I won't go back there!" cried Luna again, breaking into a sort of pale, hysterical ecstasy. Her whole body shuddered violently. "I spent a thousand years in that torture! I was trapped within my own mind, with nothing to entertain me but my consciousness, for a millennium! I refuse to go back!"

"There's no choice for you!" Celestia yelled this time, breathless. "Do you think I want this? What kind of sister would I be? I'm sorry, do you understand? I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She leaned in closer, the corners of her lips trembling.

"If you truly are sorry," reproached Luna with a solemn, insulted, and tearful voice, "then make an excuse. Please! Anything! Just... just... say something!"

"I have nothing to say! You did this to yourself. Corvo was right on that: this was your choice."

Luna's heart turned cold at those words, and she froze. At the same time, as soon as she ceased her struggle, Celestia jumped on the opportunity and channeled her magic into Luna's horn; Luna gasped when there was a small discharge of light, and she fell limp, unconscious.

Celestia's face suddenly darkened, a stricken look came into her eyes. She took a step as though to go out of the room. In one instant there was no trace left of her tears. She underwent a sort of transformation, in which she stared at her sister for a long time, as though regretting what she had done.

She rushed impulsively to Luna, and seizing both her hooves, pressed them warmly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm... sorry... I..." Her breathing was coming out in rapid exhales. She could hear her heart beating.

Celestia closed her eyes, willing her body to remain at ease. She had to get this done quickly, before everypony in Equestria found it, before she had a heart attack just trying to reconcile these new facts.

"I'm sorry," she said again, barely able to enunciate these words.

* * *

Corvo almost stumbled out of the mirror. It was slightly cracked in the corner, but nothing too damaging.

He walked forth slowly, in a state of two minds. He was back home, but it took a second for him to realize how barren the room had become. All the furniture, the billiard table, the bookshelves, the candles—they were all gone. Every square inch of his wall paper had been torn down as well, leaving him in a hollow room made of planck wood.

He peeped out of the billiard room, analyzing the rest of the hallway and living room. Everything had been taken apart, including the frames and glass panes which had comprised his windows. His entire house was gutted, and all that was left relatively intact were the few embers emitting from his hearth.

A cold gust of window rolled in from the window opening. Corvo heard voices outside. He used his Dark Vision and indeed confirmed two other figures seemingly waiting by the outdoor stairs.

"Unfortunate, isn't it?" said the Outsider, who had just now materialized in front of him.

"The least of my worries," said Corvo, striding back to the billiard room. He took out his metal mask, stared hard at it for a second; the glass eyes responded with a cold gleam, almost like it were staring right back into his soul. He placed it on the ground, carefully, as though it could break easily.

"What are you doing?"

"I need to leave, Outsider. Get as far away from this confounded city as possible. I knew this would happen. It was only a matter of time until they discovered my true identity."

The Outsider raised a dubious eyebrow, and he smirked. "Oh? If that is the path you choose, Corvo, so be it. I had my fair share of fun, by the way, watching you in Equestria. Quite the fascinating twist. How do you feel about Serath now? He has a family waiting for him."

"No need to remind me." Corvo went back out to the living room, slowly as to not make any sudden noises.

"So you choose to run away from your actions? I never expected such an abdication of responsibility from you."

"I never said that," said Corvo strangely, like he wanted to sound angry but could not find the energy to do so.

"Really? So what do you make of all this? I suppose an investigation will take place, a search party even. And then, upon discovering the truth, Serath's wife and children will weep for years to come. And you, Corvo, will now be revealed to all as the Wandering Stranger. You might be blamed—for everything."

"Let society have it. I will leave everything behind me, including my mask. Where is Fredric Apollinov?"

"You think he concerns me?"

"No. Forget it."

Corvo summoned the glow from his Mark. The burning remnants of his hearth vanished into smoke for a moment, then it sprouted into brighter and bigger flames. The fire latched onto the adjacent wall, sweeping over it like a melting blanket.

"Are you sure about this?" asked the Outsider in mild surprise.

"I need to burn everything. Everything." He swept his left hand and dragged the fire across to the ceiling and floor. He waited for at least thirty seconds until the burning flames became noticeable. "Well, that is that. Time to go."

He quickly walked to the back of his house, which was progressively being filled with smoke. He heard voices behind him, from outside: "What the blazes! Something's wrong! Hey, fire! Fire!" and "Bloody hell, what the—! Damn it! Get back, get back! We need the others first! Wait here! Bah, damn it all!"

Corvo went through a back postern door, up a staircase, and out again on a stone balcony. Using what little power he had left in his Mark he teleported down onto the balcony of another house, up to the roof, and he ran as far as he could, sprinting against the wind, leaving behind the shouting voices. He parted from the world, done for he was afraid.

* * *

Epilogue

It was the beginning of January. There had been a hard frost, without snow; but despite the weather ponies' schedule, a little snow had fallen on the frozen ground of the castle garden. It was night time now, and a keen wind was lifting and blowing it among the dreary trees and grass.

A lone pegasus guard stood solitary beneath the largest tree in the middle of the garden. Besides him was a small mound of earth, solitary just like the guard. There was nothing on it save for a single daisy. The dirt, which was darker than the rest of the ground round it, stuck out like a sore thumb. It gave the garden an odd look—and not for the better.

The guard was there on, what was described to him, "very urgent business." He was evidently waiting for somepony, and he had been waiting still, like a statue, for nearly an hour now. He allowed himself some movement by looking up into the night sky, particularly at the magnificent orb of the moon. A dark figure representing a face was subtly sketched into it. One could spot the pattern of these craters and see for themselves the image of a stricken unicorn eyeing the whole world down. It was a very melancholy sight, and many ponies who did not notice this visual change reported the same feeling without being able to explain why.

There was a rustle nearby, and the guard quickly turned to spot Celestia approaching him. He instantly straightened his back, bowed his head, and said: "Greetings, Your Majesty. How may I be of service?"

"Silver Wing, was it?" asked Celestia in a strange, quiet voice, as though she did not wish for her voice to make it very far, despite the fact that no pony could possibly be eavesdropping.

"That is correct, Your Majesty. I am the guard you requested."

"That's good," she said, smiling at him. "I needed to ask you a question, Silver Wing. Some advice, perhaps."

The guard blinked hard. "Your Majesty?" he said. "You want me to—"

"Stay there," interrupted Celestia, suddenly, and impelled by uncontrollable feeling she wandered to the dirt mound where the guard stood besides and looked down at the daisy. "Do you know who's buried here?"

"Buried?" said the guard, mildly perplexed; he looked again at the dirt. "A pony of great importance, Your Majesty?"

"Not important, no."

"But to be buried in the castle's garden is—ah, forgive me, I did not mean to doubt your—"

"It's quite alright," she assured. "I agree, the burial itself is rather crude, there wasn't even a ceremony, but I wanted to do it myself. Keep it like this."

"I see. Very well, Your Majesty."

"And what about that?" Celestia gestured to the moon, the one she had raised. "How long until we'll be forced to break the ice to the public?"

"In regards to Princess Luna's banishment, Your Majesty? There is no way for me to be sure. This shall come as heavy tidings indeed."

Celestia was stolidly quiet for nearly a whole minute, as though glad to be embraced by the sight of her night sky. At length she exhaled softly and gazed at the guard.

"My question," she began more clearly this time: "if you were to find out that Equestria had been the usurpers of dark magic all along, and that King Sombra's 'dark magic' was, in fact, the light magic, how would you react?"

"That is... quite the question, Your Majesty. Some ponies might need to think it through."

"By all means, take your time."

"To be brief, Your Majesty, I would have two responses to such a paradoxical scenario."

"And what would they be, Silver Wing?"

"The first would be shock, naturally. To consider us ponies the true users of dark magic—yes, at first I would be both shocked and confused."

"And then?"

"My second response, Your Majesty, would be that of apathy."

"Apathy?" Celestia tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"Pardon the expression, Your Majesty, but it's all just water under the bridge. That is, if real dark magic created the good that is Equestria, then what is there to stress over? I find it foolish to fear the dark sometimes, especially when it can be this beautiful," he said, shooting a momentary glance at the stars in the bluish black backdrop of the sky.

"When you put it like that, I'd have to agree," said Celestia, feeling the chilling wind in her face. The guard, however, was reduced to an astute silence.

"And do you like the night sky?" said Celestia again.

"I do, Your Majesty," he said, a small smile coming onto his lips. "I very much do. Um, excuse me, Your Majesty, but is something wrong?"

"What? Oh, no, no," Celestia hurried to say, wiping the tear which had escaped her eye. "Never forget this night, Silver Swing. Don't forget this moon."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"Well..." Celestia began again, but her mind trailed off. "Nothing left to be said."

"I see. Will that be all, Your Majesty?"

"Yes. I'm... sorry I made you wait this long just for that. You may go."

"No need to apologize, Your Majesty. I am happy to serve you, now and forever." He bowed low, jogged off in his direction for a bit, then set off in flight over the castle and out the garden.

Celestia, for a final time, looked at the dirt mound and the daisy. She opened her mouth to say something, namely to remark something about the flower, but immediately became embarrassed with herself for such a consideration. In reality there was nothing to say. She sighed and, with drooping ears, flew out the garden. She was a princess, after all; she had her royal duties to attend to.

But even princesses need some ponies to talk to. She got that out of her chest, whatever it was.

* * *

Post-Epilogue

It was now February, which is as far as I can take us into our story. This was no longer Dunwall, nor any of the cities known to us in this northern continent. I believe we will be resuming in Tyvia, the second largest of the "Isles" and the northernmost continent in this world. I forget which city, although I suppose the finer details are irrelevant.

As the narrator I believe now is the best time to write down my final words. It would be quite awkward for me to interrupt right in the end, don't you think? Now is the best time, I think.

In truth, I haven't much to say. I thought I would, but as we draw to a close I am left wondering—maybe even pondering—what there was to learn. Well, obviously I learned nothing, since I knew everything which would transpire since the first word. It begs the question: "What need had I to relay these strings of facts to you, the reader?" I mean, how pretentious can I be to assume you would care? I do not think I'm that interesting. But, I also wonder, maybe I wrote this for myself, as a means to gauge my own self-importance. Or, if not that, then to see if I cared. If no one else cares, then at least the narrator ought to.

And I do indeed care, if not for the story then for the psychology—and not even the psychology of the characters, but namely the psychology of the message, that which you are meant to learn. People have laughed at me for speaking about my passion for psychology. Well, let them. In my opinion they are wrong; and that Apollinov fellow was of greater depth than supposed (again, in my opinion). But even I wrote him, that is, with my own flair to it; and, maybe, if you had gotten a different narrator to describe the same story, likely a better one, you would end up with something much more understandable. Or not. Who can say?

That said, I will gracefully accept the claim that I have yet to make up for my position as the narrator. No one else would do it, so I seized the opportunity. I guess I failed to make my mark at the outset of my career, which explains my decision to go along with this story. Our dear Corvo, Serath, Celestia, Luna, and Sombra, and whoever else—why does it matter now? The story is about to end. Should you read everything again, with the exception of a few missed clues here or there, everything will roll out largely the same. That's true for any story, of course, but what about for a message? Was there supposed to be a message in the first place? In my opinion: no. I'm sorry, but no. It's best to move on.

But I see I can't go on like this, partly because some things I did not hear, others I did not notice, and others I have forgotten, but most of all because, as I have said before, the story must come to a close. I apologize for stalling. Let's resume. There's nothing left to say.

It was in the docks, deep into the night. A large iron ship had begun to sail off, and the platforms hovering above the sea had been cleared of any pedestrians. The factory pipes and wheels turned in the distance; the sky was filled with a grey smog, not that anyone noticed. An abandoned beach stretched from one end of the docks to the rows of houses which started to make up the current city.

Near one of the dwellings stuck out a dock layout. The waves were high, and every once in a while a splash would overlap onto the boarding, soaking the figure who sat on the edge.

"You called me," said the Outsider, hovering above the moving tides right in front of Corvo, with his arms crossed.

"Just for a final farewell," said Corvo. He was holding an old pistol in his hand, an outdated model, with only one bullet loaded in the cartridge. He had grown a beard, dark but turning slightly grey at his jaw. His face was extremely exhausted; there was no light in his eyes, and he had dark, dreary bags under them. He had the look of a man who was ready dismiss anything, even a thief who stole from him right to his face. He no longer seemed to care about anything.

"I have been watching you," observed the Outsider with a certain well-bred nonchalance, "but I do not need the details. Allow me to withdraw from this discussion."

"The whole 'Corvo Attano is the Wandering Stranger' fiasco has devolved into chaos. It has circulated in every newspaper this last month."

"And I never expected that to bore me so much. You have become a procrastinator, Corvo."

"You should have expected this outcome. I have not killed a single person since December, and they found my scorched mask. The connections were simple enough." Corvo fingered the barrel of the gun; the metal was very cold, and he suppressed a shudder in his shoulder.

"And through all this, still you choose to be here. I say, give it all up, but at the same time reject the new paths which will invariably present themselves to you."

"Are you telling me this?"

"Not at all. These are my plain observations. But like I said, very little of interest has taken place. You still possess my Mark, but to what extent? I am willing to follow you, Corvo, follow you until the day you die. That might bore me, too. It seems like times have changed."

"Times have changed."

"Makes no difference to me, however."

"Well, they continue to search for me. It has not been easy. Has that, at the very least, entertained you?"

"No," replied the Outsider monotonously. "Again, I will drop this subject altogether. You will make your own decisions. If you wish to end it all here, I will simply substitute you for another. No skin off my nose." The Outsider allowed himself to chuckle at a certain thought which came to him, but it went away just as quickly. "Hmm. And here I thought you would last at least five years. It has been thrilling. But, I suppose, there are some things that must be left without their resolution. Even me."

"Very true."

There was a very long pause, in which both of them looked to be communicating without words.

"Goodbye, Corvo. To you..." said the Outsider all of a sudden, gesturing to Corvo. He uncrossed his arms and, staring into the horizon, turned into a floating mass of ash, and finally he disappeared into nothing.

"Farewell, old friend," said Corvo, smiling. But in that moment, he was not sure who he referred to.

* * *

THE END

Author's Note

Glad you made it to the end. In case your interest for Civil Distinction is still holding up, be sure to check out this lengthy chapter-by-chapter analysis I wrote on it, which goes over most of my intentions and thinking process while writing this story, as well any plot/character details, foreshadowing, and references I included.