"And if the world won't give us a home,
Then we will make one of our very own."
Fragment of Zolantian verse; Anonymous (undated).
It was a whisper dancing in the air; the most pensive of laughs from the wind as the sun sluggishly crept to its seat above Ponyville. Somewhat resistant to Celestia’s urges, it nevertheless cast a warm amber glow across the hills and timber-framed houses, and teased morning lullabies from the throats of nesting birds.
As the fragile light bathed her face, Twilight Sparkle woke from her slumber, and looked up with heavy eyes and a dry mouth. It took a few moments of staring out of the window opposite to realise that she had fallen asleep at her desk, and a frown creased her face as she took in the small puddles of drool wrinkling the pages of the book beneath her hooves.
By the grace of Celestia – was this the third or the fourth time now? The Alicorn enjoyed the feeling of closing her eyes – just for a moment – as she exhaled. Well, she decided, for dignity’s sake let’s just say it’s the third.
She rose from her seat with a groan and stretched her limbs. Her wings felt sluggish again today – as though they were still having trouble acclimatising to her body – and they cracked loudly as she flexed them. In the moments of silence that followed, a cold shiver trickled down her spine. There was something today that just didn’t feel right.
A quick mental checklist seemed to confirm her fears. For a start, the air definitely felt heavy – almost foreign to her lungs – and the morning sounds were muted and distant; neither a good sign. Looking down at the door leading from her bedroom, Twilight nodded. It looked simultaneously like something that had been painted onto the wall, but was also able to shrink and shift away from her gaze like it wasn't really there. Yes, something was definitely wrong here.
She realised what it was the moment she placed a hoof on the first step down from her mezzanine bedroom. This was Golden Oak Library – and she didn’t live here anymore. In fact, it should be nothing more than a charred ruin; a bittersweet landmark to the necessities of friendship.
As her brain tried to process the anomaly, Twilight suddenly became aware of a thick shadow leaking across the interior of the room, and her throat tightened in horror as she looked out the window at its source. Outside, at least a hundred meters high, a churning wall of water towered above Ponyville and the surrounding countryside. As wide as they were, her eyes could still barely take in its length as it arched through the air.
No. Just, no! This – this can’t be happening! The Alicorn looked about desperately as the tsunami finally collapsed under its own weight and fell towards the town like a glittering storm. Surely Princess Celestia…or, or Luna, or even Cadence must be aware – surely somepony must be doing something? Her legs wobbled and buckled beneath her and, try as she might, she just couldn’t will her body to move.
“Please,” she found herself whispering through dry lips. “Celestia, help us. Help me.” She swallowed. It couldn’t be left to her alone, it just couldn’t – not this. But as the water smashed into Ponyville, and swept towards Golden Oak Library, Twilight Sparkle realised that she was very much alone, and more scared than she had ever been in her life.
And then the water reached the library, and her life became a roiling world of blue.
She met the hard floor as a shrieking tangle of bed-sheets, limbs and wings.
The coolness of the smooth crystal cut through her panic in an instant, and Twilight stopped struggling against the twists of fabric long enough for her lungs to kick in and start breathing nice and slow and deep.
It’s okay, she told herself in the minutes that followed. It was just a dream.
She pulled herself from the bed-sheets and sat upright, her body feeling sticky with the sweat of disturbed sleep. The room was dark – Celestia had not yet teased the sun awake – and as her eyes acclimatised to the gloom Twilight tried to clear her muddled thoughts.
“Just a dream,” she repeated her thoughts aloud, and as the sound of her own cracked voice echoed back from the vaulted ceiling she started to sob. By Celestia, that had been scary – and so, so real. The Alicorn licked her dry lips and swallowed, positive she could taste the saltwater still.
No, this was completely irrational. She could control this. Twilight steadied her breathing before climbing to her hooves and trotting to the bedside table, where her dream journal waited.
“Although the level of clarity will vary, there will nevertheless always exist a relationship between the real world and the dream world.” She repeated the quotation like a mantra – her horn dimly lighting the room as a pen scribbled notes in the journal. “And there’s nothing like study and research to identify those relationships.”
Closing the journal, she levitated another book from the shelf above and lay down on her bed to read.
“So, let’s see what that particular dream world tells me about my subconscious, Professor Lockheart,” she murmured, magically lighting the lamp above her head. Despite sensing that the cold fingers of the watery nightmare were still reaching for her, Twilight nevertheless felt a slight ripple of excitement pass through her body at an opportunity to explore the unknown. “Here there be dragons, and all that.”
She skimmed past the sections discussing the royal road and imagery rehearsal therapy – she had already become familiar with the theoretical side of dreaming – and pored through the common interpretations of dreams. Eventually she found what she was looking for, and traced the words with a hoof.
“Hm, acute manifestations of feeling lost and overwhelmed huh?” The Alicorn rolled her eyes. “Well gee Professor, perhaps try being a little more specific?” She sunk into the embrace of the pillow as she debated the interpretation, but her eyes were caught by how the crystal walls glittered in the light of the lamp, and her stomach twisted into a knot so quickly it felt like a reflex action.
Twilight Sparkle, Princess of the most abstract kingdom in all of – well, it was hard to be specific about that when you ruled over something that lacked physical boundaries. She blinked, and then blinked again; attempted to hide the thought away – to lock it up, Pinkie-style, in a box, maybe; then in a room, in a house, on the moon – but it was just no good. Every time she thought she had buried it deep, she was suddenly pulling it free and playing with it until the edges became frayed and the stitching fell apart, and all she was left with was a tattered piece of fear and worry. Eventually, Twilight gave up, and trotted moodily downstairs to make some coffee. What did Professor Lockheart know anyway?
Between the smell of brewing coffee and the first rays of crisp dawn light creeping through the narrow windows of the hall, Twilight began to feel like a calm and rational pony again. She looked from the worktop to where Spike was sleeping – his blankets dusted with gemstone crumbs – and smiled. The little dragon’s rhythmic snores felt like a balm to her nerves, and she gently chided herself. Things always feel worse at night.
Her thoughts drifted to the day ahead, and suddenly her spirits were soaring again. Today was a day gift-wrapped just for her – something befitting Twilight Sparkle, the academic librarian, rather than Twilight Sparkle, princess of friendship – and she couldn’t wait. She just needed a few hours to properly wake up before –
The knock on the front door downstairs was far too loud and far too insistent. Twilight also noted that the heavy rat-tat-tat-tat sounded like the last percussion solo in Canthoven’s Lost Symphony Number Eight, and she winced as she made her way down to admit the visitor. Over the years of living at the library she had identified and recorded the knocks of everypony that had visited out of hours – she hadn’t intended to, obviously, it had just developed from a theory. Applejack’s, for example, was one single impact – a full-stop of a knock, whereas Lyra’s sounded like half of a harmony desperately seeking its counterpart.
This one though. Twilight slowly opened the door. This one…
“Waffles of super earliness!” Pinkie Pie cried, as she leapt into the castle and thrust a wicker basket into Twilight’s hooves. Behind her, the other four ponies at least had the good grace to look tired and apologetic.
Act I - The most fragile horizons
To an outsider, it appeared as though some kind of strange trash-talking face off was taking place. To an insider it appeared…as though some kind of strange trash-talking face off was taking place. The two equine silhouettes cast glares from featureless faces as their forms rippled and flexed.
“Well,” the first said with an exaggerated deepness to her voice. “If I was a Zolant-thingy-wotsit I’d definitely have wings - oh and a great mahoosive tail.”
As she spoke, the shadowy limbs spouted from her body. The other silhouette appeared to look unfazed by the developing events.
“Oh yeah?” it squeaked. “Well, if I was one of those Zo-Zo’s I’d have horns and great big bunny ears!” Again, the referenced appendages leaked into existence from her body.
“Pinkie Pie!” Twilight switched off the projector and magically opened the curtains to allow the morning sunlight into the room. The aquatic-hued crystals that formed the state meeting room twinkled their appreciation of the act as she fixed the earth pony with one of her disapproving stares.
“Not only were you still making shadow puppets after the eighth time of me asking you not to, but it sounds as though you haven’t listened to a word that I’ve said! There’s no evidence – written or otherwise – to suggest that the ancient Zolantians had wings, horns or a – a mahoosive tail. The truth is, nopony knows what they looked like.”
She watched Pinkie try, and fail, to maintain an attentive expression before taking in the remaining waffle breakfast on the table before them. It suddenly dawned on her that she had not eaten anything since the nightmare, and three hours of talking had certainly made her hungry. She reached over to slide some waffles onto her plate when Pinkie slapped her hoof away, a horrified expression on her face.
“What the hay Pinkie?” Twilight snapped.
The earth pony met her stern expression. “Twilight, you silly filly. These are waffles of earliness remember? You know you can’t eat them when it isn’t early anymore.”
Twilight blinked twice. “But, but…what?”
“Now Pinkie,” Applejack cut in with a roll of her eyes. “You know Twilight here’s been talkin’ a while now –”
Sitting next to her, Fluttershy nodded in agreement as she rolled crumbs across her plate. “Oh, yes. Quite a while.”
“– And I’m sure she’s probably hungrier than a Parasprite after a year of dancin’.”
Pinkie Pie grinned. “Oh I know that – I mean, who wouldn’t be hungry after a year of dancing? But you gotta follow the rules of breakfast. That’s why I packed these!” Her mane twitched, and another, smaller, basket rose slowly from the pink clouds of hair.
“Ta-da!” She pulled a large muffin from the basket and thrust it into Twilight’s mouth. “Not-super-early-but-pretty-early-when-you-think-about-it muffins!”
The Alicorn chewed thoughtfully; the muffins were, like everything that came from Pinkie Pie, delicious – a fluffy cloud of raisons and sultanas, and was that candied orange? She looked at the other ponies sat round the table and felt something like a balloon inflate in her stomach. Though they were all wearing different expressions, none of them looked particularly excited. In fact, one or two looked almost bored. The muffin turned to thick mush in her mouth, and she struggled to swallow it down, and she felt disappointed. She didn’t get it – she had cut the presentation down from five hours to three, and distilled the peripheral information into a stylish booklet – but the exciting stuff had all made the cut – geography, culture, different interpretive theories on the rise and fall of a civilisation.
“So,” she began tentatively, “in summary: the city of Zolantis – thought lost for centuries after the Zolantian threat was driven from the land – has recently appeared just off the west coast of Equestria, near a town called Sandflanks, and Princess Celestia has asked us to investigate.”
She beamed at her friends, feeling an intoxicating – almost desperate – giddiness at the prospect of the task ahead, but was met with blank and perplexed expressions.
“Any questions?”
Her friends all looked at each other for a few moments, as if they were having some kind of unspoken short-straw contest between them. Whatever it was, Applejack clearly lost.
“Um, beggin’ your pardon Twilight,” she licked her lips, as though trying to find the right words. “But we – I – was kinda wonderin’ what this here drawing is?”
The Alicorn was nonplussed as she stared at one of her illustrations for the booklet. “It’s a dragon? Zolantians are believed to have seen them as symbols of great magical power, remember?”
“Oh, a…dragon?” Applejack turned the booklet around several different ways as she studied the picture. Eventually, she looked up and met Twilight with conflicted eyes.
“Er, yeah – o’course it is. I can see it now.”
Rainbow Dash looked over the shoulder of the earth pony at the booklet. “Gotta admit Twi, I thought it was a tree.”
“A tree?!” Twilight felt her face flush as she looked down at her own copy. “You’re kidding right? I mean, it’s clearly got wings – look!”
Pinkie Pie giggled. “Oh yeah, I did think it funny that a river would be wearing a scarf.”
Twilight inhaled deeply. Granted, art wasn’t her strongest discipline, but she had consulted numerous texts and guides specifically for the booklet – and had lost many hours practising techniques.
“Come on girls, it’s…probably not my best work, but still…”
“Oh, no, no,” Fluttershy interrupted quietly. “It’s very…stylish Twilight. I think it’s actually really good for your first attempt.”
Twilight opened her mouth, shuddered, blushed, and closed her mouth again. The embarrassment turned quickly to anger and frustration; it tasted bitter, and she did not like it.
“Ugh, let’s just pack our things and go,” she snapped, and lifted herself out of her chair.
Rainbow Dash watched the Alicorn sulk out of the room, and looked across to her pegasus friend.
“Way to go Fluttershy.”
The train at the platform hissed loudly in relief as fresh water and coal was loaded aboard, before seeming to visibly relax in the warm sunlight.
Twilight instinctively looked up at the station clock and then returned to her checklist. Everypony accounted for and in receipt of their tickets, with the exception of Rarity and Pinkie Pie. She paced up and down the platform for a few moments, nervously threading her way through all the ponies saying their goodbyes and boarding, and tried to give her nerves a rest by taking in her surroundings. She hadn’t noticed it before, but the train station in Ponyville was delightfully located, aesthetically speaking. The iron tracks stretched off into the hazy distance, bordered by blossoming trees, rolling plains and, dyed purple by the bright sunlight, the faintest kiss of mountains on the sky. No better place to start an adventure.
Her eyes drifted back to the platform as a family boarded the train – a young filly bouncing up and down with glee. The Alicorn was briefly reminded of Pinkie Pie, and her eyes drifted back to the clock. Where were they?
One of the train carriage windows beside her opened, and she looked up to see Applejack looking down at her with a wry smile on her face.
“Twi, you’ve been pacing out there more than a greenhorn colt before his first rodeo. The train ain’t leaving for another twenty minutes – they’ll be here before then.”
“I know, I know,” Twilight took a deep breath and returned the smile ruefully. “It’s just…it’s really important to me that this expedition goes well.” She felt her stomach flutter as she acknowledged the fact.
A frown creased Applejack’s face, and her eyes softened with concern. “Why’s that sugarcube?”
The Alicorn swallowed, wondering how best she could explain her fears. “Because – Oh! There they are!”
“Sorry darlings,” Rarity trilled as she trotted down the platform with Pinkie Pie. “But when the manner of transportation doesn’t allow for one being fashionably late, then arriving just in time will have to do.”
Pinkie Pie leapt excitedly up to Twilight and the Alicorn smiled at the sight of her friend. Many moons ago she might have been surprised at the sight of the earth pony dressed for a train journey in flippers, a rubber ring and snorkel.
“Here’s your ticket Pinkie – all set?”
“You bet I am! This is going to be so so exciting Twilight! I’ve got travel games, travel cupcakes, my travel party cannon and travel sandwiches – they’re made with a special ingredient.” The earth pony seemingly pulled one out of thin air and shoved it into Twilight’s mouth. “It’s sand,” she whispered conspiratorially as she boarded the train.
Applejack chuckled at the sight of Twilight spluttering and trying to wipe her tongue clean. “I gotta admit Rarity, you’ve surprised me. Thought you’d have more than just two cases with you.”
The unicorn glanced down at her bags and flashed a smile. “Oh Applejack, there is simply so much I could teach you if you ever had the inclination to learn. Why this is just my hand luggage.” She nodded her head in the direction of two railway ponies, who were struggling to load several bags and a suspiciously large crate onto the train. “All my other…necessities will be in the luggage carriage.”
The train departed Ponyville on time, and charged eastward at a healthy pace. Twilight looked out the window of the catering carriage at the countryside passing by, feeling soothed at the prospect of the adventure ahead. Beside her, Rainbow Dash was talking animatedly around a posy-burger to Fluttershy, who was sitting opposite.
“This is gonna be awesome,” she exclaimed. “These Zolantian’s sound proper fierce – how much do you bet their city’ll be full of traps and danger? It’ll be like we’re in a Daring Do novel.”
“Oh dear, I do hope it won’t be too dangerous.” Fluttershy took a sip of rose tea. “Though it would be nice to bring some of their native critters back to Ponyville.”
Twilight smiled and leafed through her booklet. She had hardly found anything specific on the ancient race – other than the numerous tales of conquest – but she was proud of what she had been able to collate.
“I doubt the Zolantian’s still exist,” she said to them. “All the tales I read appeared to indicate that they were finally forced to flee from all the ponies they had enslaved and enchanted. They took their city to sea, and it’s been centuries since it was last seen. I’m so excited though to be given a chance to explore something so ancient and mysterious – and I’m really glad you girls are all with me.”
“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash agreed. “I mean, we gotta make the most of our opportunities now that you’ve got your own kingdom huh? Bet you’re gonna start to be real busy with all your duties soon.”
Don’t be silly Rainbow Dash, things aren’t going to change that much. Those were the words Twilight wanted to say, but they turned to dried grass in her open mouth. Her stomach sank uncomfortably as she reflected on her friend’s words, and the more she dwelt on them, the quicker the strange lurching sensation moved up her body until it was lodged firmly in her throat.
Were her opportunities to do things like this really going to become more limited? Granted, things had been on a relatively gentle learning curve since her coronation, but that was before she had been granted her own kingdom. She looked out the window, feeling claustrophobic in the busy carriage. History and research and adventure; they were her friends, her confidants – she knew them inside out and they knew her. She didn’t know the first thing of being a princess of a concept – in fact, had that even happened before?
She inhaled, feeling the familiar signs of panic creeping from her limbs to her chest, but her thoughts kept drifting through cruel montages – of her failing to grasp her duties; being stuck alone in her castle whilst her friends went off exploring and adventures without her. She was surprised to feel tears prick at her eyes.
“Uh, Twi – you okay?”
The Alicorn turned her gaze back into the carriage to see the others looking at her with concern and confusion on their faces. She scrubbed at her eyes to give her mouth a moment to get itself under some sort of control.
“I, uh…I just need to get some air,” she replied weakly, and left her seat at a barely controlled canter.
She moved quickly through the train, her eyes rapidly passing over all the ponies she passed – talking, sleeping, playing – and sighed. Out of eyesight of her friends, the lump in her throat had quickly subsided, but the heavy ache in her chest remained. The storm of thoughts in her head began to crystallise with each step, forming a melancholy composition which her lips seemed to find words for.
“Look at all these smiling ponies – see how they play and laugh,
I can sense the comfort they feel – from knowing every stone that forms their path,
But what am I supposed to do? On a line between what I do and don’t know,
My horizon is far from clear – which direction am I meant to go?”
She opened the door of the last carriage and glorious sunlight spilled in – seemingly carried aloft on the heady summer air. Stepping out onto the balcony and rearing up to rest her forelegs on the railings, the Alicorn looked out at the towering mountains passing the train by.
“Princess of Friendship, that’s what they said to me,
You’ll lead, you’ll guide, you’ll light the way – you’ll help everypony see,
Princess of Friendship, ward of such an abstract term,
And it isn’t something I feel –”
Her voice cracked and Twilight hung her head.
“– I can learn,” she whispered, feeling dampness on her cheeks again. She jumped at the sound of a polite cough and turned to see Applejack standing in the doorway, trying her best not to look too awkward.
“So, uh, I’m guessing you’re not okay then, sugarcube?”
Twilight laughed despite herself, and resisted the urge to scrub at her eyes again. “What was your first clue?”
“Well the song an’ all was a bit of a giveaway.” Applejack stepped out onto the balcony and placed her forelegs on the railing. “Jestin’ aside though, we’ve all been a bit worried about you. You just ain’t seemed yourself of late.”
Twilight joined her friend and watched small clusters of trees pass by. “I guess. Oh Applejack, the truth is I’m scared. I’ve been given this responsibility, but I just don’t know what to do with it – what it means for me. I mean, Princess of Friendship? It would be one thing to be responsible for a place, but a concept? There’s nothing in all the books of Equestria to teach me how to do that – believe me, I’ve looked.”
Applejack smiled softly – there was no mirth in it, or very little anyway, but plenty of understanding and sympathy. Twilight decided she quite liked that smile.
“Well,” the earth pony began. “I don’t know much ‘bout all that fancy research you’ve always got your muzzle in – but as a farmer I still reckon I could weigh in here.”
Twilight nodded. “Please do – you know I always love hearing your advice Applejack.”
“See it’s kinda like this. Farming is almost as old as time I reckon. Now, I’m pretty sure there’s a whole stack of books written about it,” she blushed slightly, “well, I’m sure you know more about that than me. But my point is, all those books would’ve come after the farming. You can bet your last two bits that my oldest ancestors didn’t have no text books to work from – but I’m pretty sure other folk have since written about the farming they did.”
Twilight watched a single fluffy cloud track across the sky as she thought on her friend’s words. Maybe that was it – no reference book could be written without the subject it was referencing already existing. She grinned. Perhaps she could even be the one to write it.
The ache in her chest had subsided. Twilight wasn’t naïve enough to believe it had gone for good, but Applejack’s words had helped her keep it in check somewhat. She looked over at her friend and smiled brightly.
“Thanks, AJ. You’re right, of course – I think I really needed to hear that.”
Applejack shrugged awkwardly. “Ah, it was nothin’ sugarcube. Just glad to see a smile back on your face again.”
By the time the train reached the station at Sandflanks the afternoon sun hung big and heavy in the sky, bathing the world in amber hues. Twilight and her friends stepped out onto the small paved platform, inhaling deep the brisk, salt-flecked air and looking excitedly about the seaside town. The station stood at the top of a steep incline, with clusters of whitewashed stone houses littering the cobbled paths coiling down to the wide, golden beach. Throngs of ponies, and the odd Griffin, sat outside coffee-shops, restaurants and bars, radiating a conflicting aura of calmness and excitement.
“Well girls, here we are.” Twilight pulled out her itinerary and checked the little box next to the word “arrive”. “So, I already booked a boat to take us out to Zolantis. We’ve got a few hours until then to drop our bags off at the hotel and –”
“Last one to the beach is a mangy Timberwolf!” Rainbow Dash charged past her so fast, the Alicorn only saw a multi-coloured blur, and the faintest impression of a surf-board.
Before she could open her mouth, the other ponies all darted past in pursuit – a chorus of cheers, whoops and yells filling the air. Twilight could just about hear Pinkie Pie’s voice above the rest.
“Oh, me, me! I want to be the Timberwolf! I brought moss!”
With the evening drawing in, the marina was almost as busy as the beach had been, with several yachts hosting parties that were starting to warm up nicely. Twilight ignored the yearning looks Rarity kept throwing her each time they walked past one, and counted off the piers until they reached the number on her booking reference.
She looked down at a small sail yacht moored to the pier. Inside, a young silver-maned mare was rushing about, tying knots and checking equipment.
“Excuse me,” she called out. “We’re looking for Star Board?”
“Oh, oh that’s me,” the pony looked up in alarm. “You’re a little early. I’m – I’m still getting her ready.”
Twilight smiled. “That’s okay, we don’t mind waiting. Can we come aboard?”
“Sure.” Star Board looked up and down her boat with a slightly apprehensive expression on her face. “She don’t look like much, but she’s sturdy and fast. I hope you find it fitting Princess Twilight.” A blush rose on the dark blue of her face. “It’s, um, a real honour.”
“Call me Twilight, please.” The Alicorn flashed what she hoped was a reassuring smile as she watched the young pony hastily start wiping down the seats. “Anything we can do to help?”
Once she was feeling more relaxed, Star Board turned out to be quite a garrulous mare, and she talked extensively about the arrival of Zolantis as the yacht clipped lightly across the azure waters.
“It appeared about two days ago,” she said, shifting the main sail slightly. “T’was a pret-ty big storm that evening – lightening and everything y’know? And real choppy seas. Some of the fisherponies from Sandflanks were still out with their nets at the time, and they said it looked as though the city had risen from the sea itself.”
Rarity scowled as a spray of foamy seawater landed on her maritime-themed hat. “Well, whoever they are, it certainly sounds as though they have a taste for the dramatic.”
Rainbow Dash glanced across as more water spilled onto the deck of the yacht. “Man, the sea’s starting to get feisty. Hey Twi, how come you didn’t just teleport us there?”
Twilight looked up at the sound of her name. She had begun to feel a little uneasy with the rougher waters – they were reminding her too much of that nightmare.
“Well it’s pretty fragile magic,” she replied, supressing a shudder. “I need to be able to visualise where I’m teleporting to, and I have to see the place first for that.”
Applejack pointed a hoof towards the horizon. “Will that do?”
Twilight followed her gaze and her lungs simply stopped working for a few seconds. In the distance before them, a towering finger of glass and crystal pointed smoothly to the sky, reflecting the light of the setting sun in such a way that smoky beams of pink and cobalt appeared to dance around the construct. Nearer to the water, roiling and twisting now as though in agony, the tower rested on an outcrop of rocks that reached out aggressively in all directions.
Twilight clapped her hooves together, her earlier fears and doubts suddenly replaced by a powerful yearning – to explore, to see, to exist within history and the great unknown. It started out as goosebumps, and soon became a shiver that rolled from her muzzle to her flanks.
“Oh my gosh,” she whispered aloud. “Zolantis.”
“Oh, so that’s what it’s called huh?” Star Board kept her eyes on the sea as she spoke, but her expression looked thoughtful. “We had a few fisher-ponies who wanted to go take a closer look, but the order from Princess Celestia arrived almost as quickly as the city did – keep our distance until you arrived to investigate.”
Twilight nodded, feeling a calm focus envelop her. Regardless of how exciting she personally found this task to be, they had nevertheless been entrusted with it by Princess Celestia, and she needed to ensure they fulfilled all of her expectations.
“Star Board, can you take us closer?”
Despite the increasingly rough waters, Star Board managed to find a smooth plane of rock to moor the yacht against, and the ponies cautiously disembarked.
“You sure you don’t want me to wait for you?” she asked brightly, looking at the slightly bedraggled group. “I don’t mind.”
Twilight’s horn radiated in the darkening light as she wrung the water from her tail and mane. “Thank you for the kind offer, and your time already, but we’ll be fine. You make sure you get back safely.”
Rarity waved farewell, then looked mournfully at her hat. “Well, with any luck this place will be abandoned. I’d hate for this to be the first new piece of fashion they set eyes on after centuries of exile.”
Twilight’s eyes followed a makeshift path up from their location. A few meters further up, the first houses could be seen – great marble casas two or three stories high that clung to mosaic-patterned paths running in straight lines to the tower. The Alicorn looked up and her head swam – from a distance Zolantis had looked impressive, but up close the sight was almost overwhelming. The tower, which was actually a double helix of thin glass imprisoning a central tower of marble and crystal, penetrated the hazy clouds above and Twilight nearly fell backwards as she craned her neck to try and see the top.
As they joined the closest path and followed it, Twilight became aware of how much time and nature had reclaimed the city. The casas, though imposing and architecturally impressive, were cracked and eroded, and at numerous points wild plants were growing up through the mosaic tiles and long dry fountains. The Alicorn inhaled the intoxicating air and blushed as an excited squeak escaped her lips. Oh how she wanted to run off and make notes, draw pictures and maps – to collate everything this city had to offer her.
She looked back at the others, knowing that the grin on her face was both wide and ridiculous.
“Have you ever seen anything so wonderful?” she asked. “It’s like we’re walking through history itself – look! That’s one of the natural spring fountains that supposedly gave Zolantis life. Remember?”
Fluttershy and Applejack looked at the fountain – chipped and overgrown – and frowned in thought for a few moments. Then the pegasus’ eyes grew wide in realisation.
“Oh. Yes. The picture of a plate of biscuits.”
Applejack nodded.
Twilight ignored them, in full thrall now to the mysterious city. “And look, over there – those are the casas that wealthy Zolantians were supposed to reside in.”
Rarity cocked an eyebrow as a chunk of marble took the opportunity to fall from the nearest building. “Well, I’m sure the place looked divine…um, once. It just needs a little – maybe a lot – of work.”
“Yeah this is all a little…historical, Twilight.” Rainbow Dash perched on the balcony of the nearest casa and looked inside. “And totally boring. Where are all the traps?”
Twilight smiled encouragingly. “Come on girls – it’s amazing.” She felt giddy – this was what she felt comfortable with, what she was surely born to do.
Pinkie Pie bounded alongside the Alicorn, looking from the dense tree-lined paths to the casas and houses.
“Soooo, there’s nopony here,” she announced. “How are we going to attend a welcome party if there’s nopony here to throw one?” She thought for a few moments, and then gasped. “Can we throw a welcome party for ourselves if we are the ponies being welcomed? Is that even allowed?”
As they continued along the path, none of the ponies noticed the equine silhouette watching them from the roof of a particularly tall casa. A pair of ruby eyes momentarily narrowed in the darkness, before the figure became one with the evening itself.
