Gemini

by Daikatana

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, Spike, Science Fiction, Adventure, Twilight Sparkle, Main 6, Princess Luna, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 12036

To protect the world, one must understand the worth of every life in it. When an ancient plague unleashes itself on Equestria, this will be the most difficult lesson Dusk Flash will ever learn.

To protect the world, one must understand the worth of every life in it. After an ancient plague unleashes itself on Equestria, this will be the most difficult lesson Dusk Flash will ever learn.

Published 2015-10-03 19:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-10-03 19:10:02 UTC

0: Andromeda

0: Andromeda

Two newborn foals wrapped snug in a small purple blanket snored softly without so much as a care in the world. Yet there was an uncertain atmosphere in the hospital nursery, one which came almost exclusively from four ponies situated beside their crib. Princess Celestia glanced between the parents and their foals, concern evident though held in check. Beside her stood Lady Onus, and the look on her face was one of calm resignation, bordering on eerie.

Separating twins at birth wasn’t something the princess wanted any part of—it was an old, archaic idea that was best left in the past where it belonged—but everyone there knew the stakes at play. Even then, she would honor her sister’s policies, regardless of her absence. Still, this seemed especially like an undeserved punishment, to ask parents to give up their child, even if it was for a greater good.

“Are you sure there’s no other options, Princess?” said Twilight Velvet, her eyes bloodshot, the fur around them matted from crying.

The princess’s gaze settled on the mother, and she nodded slowly after a moment. “I’m sorry about all this, Mrs. Velvet. I know being given this decision can’t be easy. If there was any way around this, I’d be doing my best to find it. Unfortunately—”

“Your daughter is the last option we will have for a good long while,” Lady Onus said, a small frown on her face. “With our dwindling numbers, we won’t be in the best position to prevent the potential approaching disaster. Your daughter would provide the best chance we have of deterring it for longer than we are currently able.”

“We understand that,” snapped Night Light. His appearance was haggard, the product of hours without sleep. “You showed us that much yesterday. What I don’t understand is why we won’t be able to at least keep in contact with her.”

“The Aegis has very strict rules regarding familial relationships,” the Lady said, her expression unchanging. “As much as I may also disagree, I am in no real position to challenge them, and those that are,” her eyes shifted towards the princess before returning to the parents, “are not presently available to do so.”

Night Light gave her an even look, and after a few moments, he sighed. “Fine. Just—Can we have a few seconds to talk this out with each other one more time?”

Princess Celestia gave the two parents a soft smile and nodded again. “We’ll be out in the hallway. Take however much time you need, and please call us when you’ve both reached a decision.”

When the door shut firmly behind the two of them, Twilight Velvet and Night Light were left alone with their thoughts. Velvet heaved a tired sigh, and much like her husband, looked weary from all the worry. She was barely managing to even keep herself standing, but she managed to remain strong, likely out of spite for the circumstances. She turned towards the twins, though her words were directed towards her husband. “What are we going to do, Night Light?”

The stallion nuzzled his troubled wife. “We’ll do what we can. That’s all anyone can ask of us.”

“But why us? Why them?” she cried, running a hoof across her daughter’s cheek. “There’s got to be other unicorns who are—”

“You know why, sweetie. We both know why. They showed us that much yesterday.” Night Light looked over his foals, his thoughts turned to the future, what they let him see in that induced dream. Creatures crawling across the land, chaos and destruction spreading in their wake. Those unlucky enough to get caught were converted quickly, only adding more to their horde, their legion. He saw a world shattered, a world ending.

He shook his head, thinking instead to all the time he’d never get to spend with both his daughters, to all the times he’d have to spend pretending that one of them didn’t exist, lying to his own son all the while just to keep up the charade. Did any of that outweigh that horrible future? He wasn’t even sure, himself. But something has to be done, right? he thought.

Looking back to his wife, he brought her eyes up to his. “If stopping that thing is what our little girl is needed for, we don’t have a right to say no. This is bigger than all of us. Bigger than all of Equestria.” He smiled reassuringly, though he didn’t think it made much of a difference. “Besides, I have a feeling we’ll see her again someday, after she’s done all she can. And then we can be a family, together.”

Twilight Velvet sniffled a bit. “But I just,” she closed her eyes for several seconds, trying to hold the tears in. “I don’t know about all this. What if that … future or whatever it was doesn’t happen? What if we give her up for nothing?”

He paused for a moment, trying to find the right words to say. Hugging his wife close, he said, “As long as she’s helping keep the world safe, it won’t be for nothing.”

After a few seconds, Velvet wiped away the tears that started to form and returned her husband’s smile. “You’re right.” She took one last look at her daughters sleeping soundly together and gave each a gentle kiss on their foreheads. “This is for everyone’s sake.”

The two of them stood silently at each other’s side before heading out into the hospital hallway. The bright fluorescent lights did not provide any warmth, nor any sure sign of hope, but they had each other, and that somehow made everything feel okay.

Princess Celestia and Lady Onus turned towards the couple, the former with a sad smile on her face, while the latter simply stood firm, containing her emotions at the all-too-familiar sight before her. This will never get any easier, will it? she thought.

“Have you two reached your decision?” the princess said.

Another moment passed before Night Light spoke up. “We have, Princess.” Turning towards the Lady, he gave her a sad but stern look. “Take good care of Dusk for us.”

She smiled softly. “I promise, Mr. Light.”

Author's Note

Thanks goes out to MagnetBolt, Cammerhammer, ZaRaapini, Merrick, QS, Midnight_Blaze, and numerous other individuals who helped with some of the more difficult concepting.

And thanks especially to Merrick and Majora for editing this thing. Couldn't have done this without any of you.

I: Alpha Centauri

I: ALPHA CENTAURI

It was ten in the morning and Dusk Flash was still soundly asleep, snoring lightly underneath the purple covers of her four-poster bed. The blinds on the window to her left were shut tight, though sunlight still managed to peek through the cracks. An alarm clock on her nightstand provided the only other source of noise in the room, the tick-tock of its mechanical hands with a steady rhythm.

The aforementioned room, for all intents and purposes, was in total chaos. Towers of books were scattered across the floor, empty coffee mugs lay discarded throughout the mess, and even copious amount of notes littered the ground, until the only traces of the old grey carpet left were the various trails she’d made in the debris.

A soft knocking came from the door, out of synch with the alarm clock’s tempo. “Miss Flash, are you awake?” said a voice from out in the hallway, muffled slightly. The unicorn in bed only shifted around in response. After a moment, the door opened—scattering several of her notes—to reveal a short grey earth pony donning a black bowtie and a lightly disheveled mane. “Miss Flash?”

Dusk rolled onto her side, facing away from the new arrival. She kept her eyes closed, but stray beams of sunlight managed to make sleeping any longer a bit more difficult than she wanted it to be. She sighed. “I’m pretty sure I told you guys not to wake me up so early.”

“Y-Yes, you did,” the butler said, trying to keep his voice steady. He really didn’t like being the one to wake her, but his rotten luck cost him the coin toss with his coworkers. “And I-I apologize for disturbing you, Miss Flash, but Lady Onus has requested your immediate presence in her study. She said it was important.”

“Can you stop stuttering? It’s annoying,” she said as she sat up in her bed and turned towards him. “And what do you mean, ‘important’? Did she say anything else?”

The butler gulped, taking a quick breath. “No, ma’am.”

Dusk nodded, then began lifting herself out of bed. “Tell her I’ll be down in a few minutes. And while you’re out there, bring me some coffee.”

“Right away, Miss Flash. Black or with cream?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, and after a few seconds said, “Are you an idiot? Just get me my usual.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The butler quickly exited the room, shutting the door behind him. When his hoofsteps finally faded into nothing, Dusk exhaled slowly and shook her head clear of the morning fog. The wonders of a full eleven hours of sleep, she thought.

She opened the blinds, wincing as light poured into her room. The sky was a clear blue expanse without a single cloud in sight, and she could make out both Canterlot Mountain and the City of Baltimare in the distance. She’d never been to either, but she didn’t really care. If she wanted, there were always books on them down in the library, and her mentor’s history lessons painted enough of a picture to understand the major points, but she had bigger, more important things to care about.

Quickly following one of the cleared paths in her mess of a room, she walked towards the bathroom before stopping in front of a large vanity mirror next to the door. Her usual visage reflected back—sharp purple eyes, her equally purple coat, a bit ruffled from sleep, and her cobalt mane and tail with pink and purple highlights both just as unkempt. She kept her mane short because long hair took forever to maintain, though Lady Onus urged her several times to grow it out when she was younger.

That’s just a needless waste of time.

She headed inside her restroom and washed up, exiting several minutes later with a brush caught in her magic. After combing her mane, tail, and coat—and giving herself a quick once-over to make sure she was at least marginally presentable—she set the brush aside and made her way into the hallway, taking once glance at the steaming hot cup of coffee with cream, sitting beside a rather thick brown book on her dresser before ignoring the two things for now.

As she walked down the hall towards the stairs, she looked around at the worn red-and-grey patterned carpet, the faded grey wallpaper, the fact that the place still used candles rather than more modern magical light fixtures. Dusk couldn’t really fathom why, despite all the government funding, the Aegis rarely ever renovated their home. Lord Bastion once told her that modern conventions—beyond indoor plumbing and bathrooms—weren’t necessary. That they’re just distractions, for some reason.

It’s just fixtures. He’s acting like they’re dragonspawn, she thought, scoffing. He’s an old bat, regardless. I’m fairly sure he just can’t be bothered to hire someone.

The hallway soon opened into the upstairs common room, and she could hear faint voices floating up from the first floor. Heading down, she quickly followed the source of the sounds to a door just around the corner from the dining room. She didn’t eat down there much at all, preferring to take her meals to go so she could work on research in her room.

From behind the door, she could make out two voices in animated discussion, but they were heavily muffled. She picked up a few words—“family”, “worried”, “test”, “Princess”—but not much more than that. Sighing, she steeled herself. Whenever Lady Onus said something was important, Dusk rarely ever doubted her. Though, she hoped it was important enough to require waking her up earlier than she usually did.

Calmly, she knocked on the door a couple times and then stood back, awaiting a response.

“Is that you, Dusk?” came a familiar voice from the other side.

“Fritz said you wanted me for something?” she said.

“Yes, yes. Please come in, and make sure to shut the door behind you.”

Dusk promptly complied. As she entered, she glanced around the room, taking stock of the situation. The Lady didn’t invite her into her study all that often—lessons usually took place in the practice field between the back gardens and the Atrium. For the few times she’d been in there, however, it was always clean and well-organized, and today looked to be no different.

What really caught Dusk’s attention, however, was the large, awestruck alicorn sitting on the sofa in the center of the room.

A princess? she thought. Well, I guess it really was important.

A moment passed before the alicorn broke the silence. “…Twilight Sparkle?”

She stared at her, an eyebrow raised. “Who?”

The sound of someone clearing their throat brought the two mares’ attention towards Lady Onus, who sat opposite the sofa in one of her two cushy velvet chairs, nursing a small cup of tea before she set it down on the coffee table between them. “Good morning, Dusk,” she said, a slightly strained smile on her face. “I take it you slept well?”

Dusk paused for a second before nodding. “You could say that.”

Her mentor chuckled a bit. “Very well.” She gestured towards the alicorn. “I’d like you to meet our founder and supervisor, Princess—”

“Princess Luna,” Dusk said. “Wasn’t she supposed to be banished?”

Princess Luna flinched almost imperceptibly before she straightened up a bit in her seat and levitated her own cup of tea up from the table and towards her. Her teal eyes focused on Dusk, an uneasy smile on her face. “I had been banished, yes, though certain … circumstances allowed my sister to grant me pardon.”

Okay, the way she’s staring at me is a bit creepy. Recalling some of the etiquette Lady Onus had taught her regarding ponies of higher political status, she bowed her head slightly. “Then I guess I should say hello, your Majesty,” she said in a flat tone of voice. “My name is Dusk Flash. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Dusk … Flash,” the princess said, almost as though she were testing the name. She visibly relaxed, and her smile became just a bit more natural. “I must apologize for the earlier, ehm, remark. You simply reminded me of someone else. In any case, it is a pleasure to meet you, as well. The good Lady was informing me of your accomplishments these past few days, and from what she tells me, you are quite the capable recruit.”

Dusk walked nonchalantly towards the last open chair. “I hope that’s good news,” she said as she sat down. There was a smile on her face, as well, but that was more of a formality than anything truly genuine.

“Nothing but,” the princess said. “Though if all goes well this afternoon, I suppose calling you a ‘recruit’ would no longer be correct.”

What do you mean, ‘if’?

“I have no doubt that she won’t disappoint you, Princess,” said the Lady, her smile slowly fading as she gave her student a sidelong look, taking a sip of her tea. “I only wish she would spend more time preparing instead of sleeping.”

Dusk grimaced slightly at the chiding, but she quickly covered it up. She never studied, never really needed to. She was perfectly capable of handling any test—her reading habits ensured that. Lady Onus’ lectures about the merits of studiousness only ever fell on deaf ears, as studying never really seemed to reward her with anything other than wasted time. Besides, I passed yesterday’s tests with flying colors, so why is she still going on about this?

“So, what did you need me for, my Lady?” Dusk said, trying to avoid that line of conversation.

“Ah, yes,” Lady Onus began. She motioned once more towards their guest. “Princess Luna will be accompanying myself and the others to the Atrium’s testing chamber to monitor your final Trial.

“We’ll discuss the exact details of the exam shortly before you begin, but for now,” she said, looking back at her. “I need you to head over there and find Lord Bastion. He needed to talk to you about something, though you’ll have to ask him what. I can’t remember for the life of me.”

She rolled her eyes, though otherwise kept to herself.

“Lastly,” the Lady continued, giving her a stern look, the same one she gave her every time she needed her to actually care. “This final test is the most difficult of the three. If you fail this, it’ll be another year before you can retake—”

“I understand, your Ladyship,” Dusk said, rising from her seat. “Anything else?”

The Lady sighed. “I wish you would take this seriously.” She shook her head. “That’ll be all for now. Remember to be in the Atrium at four o’clock sharp. I’ll be around to escort you to the testing chamber.”

“Sure thing.” With that, Dusk quickly left the study, shutting the door behind her.

When her hoofsteps finally faded into the distance, Lady Onus rubbed her temple, breathing slowly. Quiet settled over the room for a time, until Princess Luna spoke up. “I see that you were not merely being facetious when you told me she appears a great deal like her sister. Though she is a bit more … curt, I would say.”

“Curt is putting her attitude mildly, your Majesty,” the Lady said, then took a long sip of her tea, the taste of chamomile helping to soothe her nerves.

The princess turned back towards her, setting the cup back down onto the table. “I am sure she is simply nervous, Lady Onus. From what you have shown me, the Trials are still as rigorous as I remember them.”

"I would agree if I hadn’t known her all her life.” She sighed once more, setting her drink down as well and glancing out the window behind the desk which sat opposite the door. She could see the white marble of the Atrium peering out over the tree-covered mountainside just a short distance away from the manor, like a sentinel keeping watch over its domain.

Looking back at the princess, she said, “She treats our servants more like pests than ponies, she argues with the others constantly—especially Bastion—and when she isn’t sleeping like a log in her room, she’s in Safeguard’s library toying with spells and concepts she’s too young to really understand, let alone control.”

Princess Luna gave her a pensive stare. “That is … concerning. But I am fairly certain her attitude is merely a passing phase. She is still young, after all.”

“I only wish that were true, your Majesty.” Lady Onus rose from her seat and made her way towards the desk, her eyes fixed on the Atrium for several seconds before she turned back to her guest. “For several years now, Dusk has lacked a certain degree of … empathy, I suppose is the right word. Whether it’s from her asocial tendencies or my own failure as her teacher, I can’t say.”

“Is that why you brought up the, ehm, issue regarding familial relationships prior to her arrival?”

The Lady gathered her thoughts for a second, then said, “Yes, your Majesty, and I don’t believe this is something that can be rectified by any means available to us here.” She returned her gaze to the window, and could barely make out a lone purple figure walking along the edge of the practice field towards the Atrium. “Dusk doesn’t understand the gravity of her future position, nor the weight of the responsibility she would carry. I fear living in isolation like she has, has only managed to convince her that whatever ‘answers’ she comes up with are the only ones that are right.”

The princess leveled a steady gaze at the unicorn before turning away and heaving a dejected sigh. “I can certainly … understand your position on this matter, Lady Onus. However,” she looked back towards the Lady with a stern expression. “If Miss Dusk Flash proves herself capable during the final Trial, we will not discuss this matter any further.”

Lady Onus stood silent, her guest’s sudden change in demeanor catching her momentarily off guard. She stared at the Princess for a few seconds more before nodding. “As you say, your Highness.”

<----------------------->

Dusk leaned further into her seat, taking a small sip of her coffee before setting the cup down on the table beside her. Where she sat wasn’t a particularly comfortable place to recline, admittedly—there were no pillows, and the cushions were a bit too thin—but sitting beside the observation window on the Atrium’s indoor balcony, which overlooked the practice yard and back gardens of the manor house, always managed to relax her. It made the perfect reading spot.

Levitating in front of her was a rather thick brown book, a mundane thing whose only defining feature on its worn, leather-bound hardcover was the gold-stitched title in flowery font, which read: The Elements of Harmony: A Complete Reference Guide, Fifth Edition. Absentmindedly turning the page, she quickly scanned through the notes she’d written in the margins before beginning the next chapter proper.

Many of the aforementioned notes would’ve been completely unnecessary had this edition been more modern, the product of questions the book never answered. She asked Lord Safeguard—the Aegis’ lorekeeper—to update their back catalogue several times. The resources they had were a few decades old and filled with glaring inconsistencies, but she was only ever told that not enough had changed over the years to warrant an update.

Which is a bold-faced lie, considering all the buzz these past few years, she thought. Whatever new info we get is just as sparse, admittedly, but that’s probably because we’re so isolated.

She grimaced. Cut off from the rest of the world, being drip-fed new information at the pace of a snail racing uphill, and even then not getting the whole picture—it’s ridiculous.

“Kept you waiting, huh?”

Dusk glanced up from her book and was greeted by the sight of a familiar stallion standing at the top of the stairs. His coat, mane, and tail were grey, though the latter two were several shades lighter. He looked emaciated, almost rail-thin, but his straight-and-tall posture gave him a weirdly ‘healthy’ vibe.

“You do know what’ll happen if the others see you, right?” she said, an eyebrow raised.

The stallion waved a hoof dismissively before making his way towards her. “Pssh. The worst they could do is put up half a dozen protection charms to keep me from manifesting, but I’d still find some way to talk.” He stopped a few feet from her. “I saw you talking with that creepy northerner—Bastion, right? What was that about, anyway?”

“Nothing, really,” she said, her eyes glued to the book. “He wanted me to brush up on the tenets and fundamental duties again, but those were on the knowledge test so it was just a waste of time.”

“You think it was for the last test? The induced dream one?”

Dusk gave him a small smile, then marked her place with a bound bookmark. She set the book down beside her coffee. “Yeah, though no one’s told me anything about it yet.” She sighed. “Lady Onus said they’d tell me right before it’s administered, but—”

“Don’t give me that look. Even I have no idea what it’s about.” He chuckled slightly.

She rolled her eyes. “How do you not know? You’ve been here for fifteen hundred years; you have to know something.”

The phantom shook his head. “Nope. The Aegists are very, ehm, picky about what they say around me. I don’t even know what day it is, let alone what some test is about. Besides,” he smirked,” the best things in life are usually a surprise.”

“Getting life advice from a ghost isn’t exactly how I planned on spending my time, Zero,” she said sternly, though was betrayed as a smile crept onto her face.

“Oh please, Ms. Reads-a-lot,” Zero said, grinning. “At least I still get out once in a while, and I can’t go much further than maybe a couple hundred feet from my body. You’re still breathing, but all you do is spend your free time doing nothing.”

“Not nothing,” Dusk replied, giving him a slight glare. “I’ve been conducting some research into sympathetic and non-sympathetic coalesced resonance and the principles of wave theory. Sadly, I can’t do anything about what I’ve found until tomorrow.”

“Does…whatever you just said have anything to do with that book you’re reading?” he said, glancing in the direction of the aforementioned tome. He reached for it, but it was snatched up in the purple aura of Dusk’s magic before he could grab it. He looked back towards her questioningly. “Okay…? What’s it about, anyway?”

A moment passed before she lifted herself off her seat. When she was standing, she turned towards Zero, her smile returning. “What if I told you I’ve found a way to get you out of the barrier crystal, without bringing ‘it’ out, too?”

Zero gave her a blank stare. “…You’re kidding, right?”

She frowned. “Why would I be kidding about helping my best friend? Weren’t you the one who said I have no sense of humor?”

“I said you might not have one. Plausible deniability, there.” He chuckled, then shook his head. “You shouldn’t be doing this, Dusk, even if you think I’m your friend. And I’m pretty sure every other Aegist gave up trying to help me for several very good reasons.”

She scoffed, making her way to the railing overlooking the central chamber. The Atrium was a huge stone and marble building jutting out of the mountainside it was carved into. The inside was dominated by a massive standing crystal in its center. If she were to stare straight ahead from her perch, its top would still easily tower over her by several feet. Every so often, the crystal would pulsate with a bright blue light, but the pulses themselves weren’t synched up to any sort of rhythm.

What drew her attention wasn’t the crystal itself, however, but the lanky, emaciated figure trapped inside it. Even from the height, she could still make out parts of its body where grey fur was replaced with black crystal, but the thing that disturbed her the most was the way the creature looked like it was screaming in agony, not in defeat like in all the stories her mentor told her.

“They weren’t thinking … outside the box, I guess is the phrase.” She sighed, then turned back towards Zero. He had a worried look on his face, but he didn’t say a word. She smiled. Why are you always worried about me, anyway? “You know as well as I do that everything they tried either didn’t work at all, or needed the barrier crystal turned off before it could work. They tried finding permanent solutions first, instead of looking for ways to make the problem easier, and all they ended up doing was giving up way too early.”

“So what are you saying?”

Dusk took a deep breath, giving him a steady gaze before placing the book back down on the table, the title glinting underneath the sunlight from the window. When Zero looked at it, his eyes went wide. “The Elements of Harmony are the key to your cage, in a manner of speaking.”

He paused. “You’re either insane or just reckless, and knowing you, it’s probably the former.”

She scowled. “I’m trying to help you here, Zero!” she snapped. “Don’t you want to get out? To actually see the world again? To not have that thing in your head anymore?”

“Of course I do,” he shot back, though managed to keep from raising his voice too high. “And keep your voice down! Someone might be around.”

He exhaled slowly, glaring at the book before facing her. “Look, I’m really glad you’re trying to help, but this is beyond a stupid idea. You’re basically throwing magic at a wall to see what sticks, and I don’t like the chances of it sticking the wrong way.”

Dusk groaned, then proceeded to quickly flip through the book until she found what she was looking for. Pointing a hoof at the page—specifically at a diagram depicting two crystals with cyclical arrows pointing to each other—she said, “See this? That’s coalesced resonance, and if this book is right, I can use the Elements to produce the same effect on the barrier crystal. All it is, is the manipulation of signal interference—nothing too complicated. Think about it, Zero: once I get access to them, you’ll finally be free of that parasite for good!”

Zero scanned the page, glancing between her, the diagram, and the various notes scrawled all around it, before settling back on the diagram. “Okay, there are about a dozen problems with this plan of yours, but the biggest one I gotta ask is pretty straightforward.” He looked up at her. “How the heck are you gonna find them, let alone get permission to leave?”

She grinned slightly. “After I pass the final test, I can leave as soon as tomorrow—all the full members get to go out for errands and things. Then, all I have to do is look for any information regarding the Elements, which shouldn’t be too hard, judging by some of the more, ehm, recent newspaper clippings Lord Safeguard’s been generous enough to let me take a peek at.”

A moment passed before Zero finally broke the silence. “Why?”

Duck cocked her head to one side. “Why what?”

“Why are you doing this, Dusk?” Zero stared calmly at her, an expression betrayed by slight hints of a worried curiosity. “I don’t get it. You don’t know me. All you know is that stupid grin I have on my face more than half the time, the same one I’ve been giving you for twenty years, and yet you’re throwing away all your hard work to solve a problem that doesn’t even have a solution—”

“Zero.” Dusk gave him an even look, the smile on her face never wavering. “You’re my friend. I don’t know where you’re getting this whole ‘you don’t know me’ business, but I trust you, even if the others don’t. That’s why I have to do this. It’s my responsibility.”

“I don’t—”

“Dusk, are you up there?”

The two of them turned towards the staircase, their eyes going wide as the sound of hoofsteps grew closer by the second.

Zero sighed. “I guess it’s time for me to take off,” he said in hushed tones. He looked back at Dusk. “I’ll talk to you later.” And, in the span of less than half a second, he simply ceased to be.

She took a deep breath, centering herself and clearing her head. Her demeanor relaxed to its normal state of indifference, a persona that was as much fake as it was genuine—a mixture of disguise and attitude that was so precise as to be downright irritating. And that’s what she wanted, because it helped make the others leave her alone. Helped get rid of distractions. Helped her focus.

When Lady Onus finally stepped onto the balcony, her gaze wandered around the area before settling on Dusk, shifting from worry to apprehension. “I hope you weren’t conversing with Patient Zero again,” she said, giving her student an accusing, yet somewhat pleading look. “You know he isn’t someone we can fully trust—”

“You’re here to take me to the test, right?” Dusk said as she approached her mentor. “I’d like to get this over with soon.”

The Lady glared at her, but instead of meeting her student’s attitude with anger, she exhaled slowly and then levied an even look her way. “Yes. I should hope you actually prepared this time, despite your previous successes.”

“I’m prepared for anything, my Lady,” Dusk said as she walked past, her voice neutral and indifferent. “It’s what I’ve been raised to be.”

As Dusk proceeded to descend the stairs, Lady Onus sighed, muttering under her breath. “That’s what I’m most afraid of.”

<----------------------->

The testing chamber was a small circular room situated at the end of a long hallway at the back of the Atrium. Judging from the distance, Dusk realized that it was far enough away from the barrier crystal that Patient Zero couldn’t consistently manifest near it. Smart, I guess, she thought as she stood just past the entrance. I guess I owe him an apology later.

In the center of the room, on a raised platform, stood an odd apparatus not unlike the weird devices she’d read about in the occasional science fiction novel. The main portion looked to be an old wooden chair with faded red cushions, and a helmet-like object resting on its back. It was connected to several large cables which ran all the way to a rotating square crystal suspended from the ceiling.

Her mentor must have seen the slightly curious expression on her face as she began to speak. “After her Majesty was … sent away, we embedded that crystal with several powerful scrying spells so that we could monitor a recruit’s progress within the dream world. While there are spells to allow ponies to traverse that dimension, only her Majesty could do so with any sort of subtlety, and our predecessors didn’t want to jeopardize the sanctity of the Trial.”

“So it’s a viewport?” Dusk said as she glanced between the Lady and the crystal. “I thought they were illegal.”

An almost imperceptible smirk crossed Lady Onus’ face before it faded back into her previous restrained demeanor. “Illegal insofar as civilians and active military personnel are concerned. We are neither.” After a moment, she started walking towards the platform, gesturing for her student to follow. “You wanted to get this over with, correct? As soon as you’re seated, I will brief you on the test objectives.”

She sounds like she’s holding something back, Dusk thought. That might just be me, though.

Dusk nodded, falling in line behind her mentor. Despite the circumstances, she didn’t feel the least bit apprehensive about the Trial. It was more of a giddiness, a sense of closure that her twenty hard years of training and preparation were about to finally pay off. The feeling only grew as she drew closer to the testing apparatus, and, in spite of herself, she smiled.

When the two of them reached the top of the platform, she looked towards the group of ponies standing behind railings at the other side of the room. Lady Serenity and Lord Safeguard each had small smiles on their faces, while Lord Bastion only regarded her with a stern nod. Behind them stood Princess Luna, and unlike the nervous, unsure attitude she portrayed in the study earlier that day, her demeanor now was anything but.

Her gaze was cold, analytical, sterile. There was no emotion there, or at least any hint of them was kept securely under wraps. Dusk shivered involuntarily, though stayed her ground. Is she upset or something? she thought, sneaking a quick look at her mentor out of the corner of her eyes. What exactly happened after I left?

Before Dusk could ask, the Lady cleared her throat and motioned towards the chair. “Please be seated so we may begin.”

After a moment, she promptly complied. When she sat down, the Lady spoke up. “Dusk Flash.” She returned her gaze to Lady Onus, who stood with an all-too-familiar look on her face. It was a look Dusk had seen many times during lectures and practice sessions, the harsh look of a fair teacher. A look she both envied and adored. “This is your final Trial, and the last step on the long road towards the rest of your life. “

Is she reading a script?

“You have been raised from birth to take up the responsibility given to us by her Majesty, Princess Luna of the Moon, a responsibility to which you will devote your life to uphold.” Lady Onus paused for a moment, studying her student’s impatient look before continuing. “Listen carefully to my instructions, as I will only say them once.

“The goal of this Trial is to test your resolve in unfavorable conditions. Everyone’s experience of the Trial is different, and as such, I cannot aid you either directly or indirectly once the Trial is underway.” Her eyes briefly shifted towards Luna before returning to Dusk, hoping she didn’t notice. “Please take care to uphold all the tenets we have taught you through your training, and do not attempt to cheat your way through.

“Lastly—” the stern look on her face took on an uncharacteristic weariness, and she gave her student a sad smile. “Be the pony I raised you to be, not the pony you’ve strived to become.”

Dusk looked at her mentor with furrowed brows. What in Equestria are you talking about?

After a moment of silence, Lady Onus sighed before resuming her stern, steady gaze. “Are you ready and willing to begin your final Trial, Dusk Flash?”

Dusk blinked, trying to figure out why her mentor was acting so strange. Focus, Dusk, she thought. You’re almost past the proverbial finish line.

She exhaled slowly, then levied a steady gaze towards the Lady. “I’m ready.”

Lady Onus nodded, then lowered the helmet onto Dusk’s head. “We’ll wake you when this is all over.”

<----------------------->

Something was wrong.

The realization didn’t come from a subtle cue that clued her in, nor did it take particularly long for Dusk to reach her conclusion. She was galloping through a cave, guided only by the soft glow of her horn, but for some reason, she couldn’t remember why. All she had to go on was a nagging feeling at the back of her head, a gut instinct telling her something was off, but it was loud enough to leave her on edge, leave her suspicious. As she ran, her eyes darted between the cave wall, the ravine, and the narrow strip of rocky walkway carved precariously between the two, wondering why in the world she ended up in this mess.

I don’t even remember agreeing to this, she thought. Why exactly am I here?

She tried looking through her memories for the answer, but all that came up were fragments, bits and pieces of the past scattered here and there. It was like a fog shrouded the details of the past few hours—even the past few weeks—and let only a scant few images get through to her.

Just focus on what you do remember.

There was that day several weeks ago, when she passed through her final Trial unscathed and was celebrated by her new peers. There was the feeling of her mentor embracing her, telling her how proud she was, telling her how great everything was going to be now that she finally assumed her responsibilities.

But then she remembered the accident, the shattered crystal, the parasite on the loose. Zero abandoned her, her new comrades were all but dead, and her mentor hadn’t woken up for weeks. She was hopelessly alone, and what’s worse, the one memory that resounded the most clearly nearly snapped her heart in two.

Everything, all of it, was entirely her fault.

That’s a lie.

“Come on, Dusk! They’re right behind us!”

Dusk didn’t realize she had slowed down to a stop until she turned in the direction of the voice. She was greeted by the sight of a pony whose appearance was at once both eerily familiar and somehow completely alien. There was something about the shade of the figure’s purple coat, the regal eyes of a darker hue looking back at her pleadingly, but she couldn’t manage to put a hoof on it. “What are you doing!? We don’t have time to stand around!”

“What in Equestria are you talking abo—” Then she heard it, the faint clopping of hooves against stone, growing louder and more numerous with each passing second. She scoured the fog in her head for an answer, and what she found only served to make her heart pound against her chest. The charred fur. The broken bodies held together by black crystal. The hollow, lifeless glares.

The legion.

With that thought held firmly in place, she spared only a moment to look behind her and caught sight of a large mass of piercing red eyes and forms shrouded in the dark. She took off in the opposite direction at full gallop, speeding past her strange companion as she made her way down the winding path into the unknown. Each hoofstep came with the familiar bounce of her saddlebags, and the fog spat out another memory from that morning, a memory of taking her combat crystals with her, of being pushed into coming by ponies who couldn’t see reason beyond their fear.

Because it’s all my fault.

She shook her head. How is any of this my fault? I tried to help! I tried to find a way to fix all this!

“Watch out!”

Dusk opened her eyes just in time to see that she was rapidly approaching a sharp turn. She immediately tried to stop, but her forward momentum forced her to the ground and she soon found herself barreling out over the ravine. She desperately tried to grab onto something as several crystals fell from her saddlebags, and she could hear several explosions from down below, the spells inside them having detonated upon impact.

For the briefest of moments, she felt as if the world had slowed to a crawl before she soon felt the familiar tingle of magic spread around her as she was levitated back up to the ledge, then gently dropped onto the pathway. She looked up into her companion’s eyes and could see the worry and grief etched into her features, but she couldn’t understand why. The fog never gave her an answer.

They only spared a few seconds before the deafening march of the mob behind them grew too close for comfort. Dusk scrambled to her hooves, putting aside her confusion for the moment, and the two of them quickly continued their gallop down the increasingly narrow path. “Hurry, we don’t have much time!” she heard her companion shout.

Time for what? She shook her head. Run now, questions later!

In her panic, Dusk only partially noticed the black ichor steadily covering the wall and floor until almost every last trace of stone disappeared underneath the thick, veiny substance. By that point, the walkway before them was only a foot or two wide—maybe less—and they were no longer running side-by-side. Still, the two ponies pushed onwards into the ever-increasing darkness, their only focus on getting out at all costs.

Then, she saw it—a speck of light up ahead, the first true indicator of a way out. She could make out a small mesa several feet away from the end of the pathway, and she hastened her pace. Jumping out over the ravine, she kept her eyes square on her target a short distance below her. I’m gonna make it, I’m gonna make it!

When her hooves touched down on the rocky surface, she galloped only a bit further ahead before slowing down and coming to a stop. A wide smile sat on her face as she scanned for her companion, but it soon vanished when all she saw was the same heavy darkness that accompanied the two of them on the chase.

“H-Help! Dusk, please!”

She turned in the direction of the voice and soon spotted a pair of purple hooves desperately trying to hold on to the mesa’s ledge. Hesitating for only a moment, she soon found herself galloping towards her companion, but as she grew closer, a black form suddenly dropped down in front of her, and she ground to a halt. It was quickly joined by several other figures in similar chaotic states: piercing red eyes, hateful glares, bodies covered in crystal as black as the ichor on the walls. Her eyes went wide at the sight.

“Dusk, hurry! I’m slipping!”

I-I, she thought, glancing around at the creatures that were quickly surrounding her. This isn’t my fault. S-She got herself into this mess! Her thoughts swam as more and more of the legion fell into the disorganized mob before her. I have to move! I have to live so I can fix this! This isn’t my fault! Taking one last look at the struggling purple hooves before the crowd could obscure her view, she swore under her breath before turning towards the light and taking off as fast as she was able.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! She threw several of her explosive crystals behind her, hoping that—if the explosions didn’t eliminate some of them—it at least deterred them from chasing after her any further. A scream echoed over the stampede, but she didn’t give it a moment’s thought the more she pushed onwards into the light. Yet, for some reason, she wasn’t getting any closer.

The walls started closing in around her, the cacophony of hoofsteps threatening to swallow her whole. And when the legionites finally found their mark, she realized that the screaming was coming from herself.

<----------------------->

Dusk threw herself out of the apparatus, choking on the stale air of the testing room as she took several deep breaths in a vain attempt to calm down. Her head was buzzing—brain pounding against her skull—and her stomach felt like it was on the verge of erupting. She held onto her sides, as it was all she could do to keep herself together, to keep herself conscious.

Blinking several times to clear away the blurriness in her vision, she glanced around the room, trying to find someone—anyone—still there with her. She heard several hoofsteps rushing towards her, worried voices calling out but not making much sense to her above the ever-present static whine in her ears. “L-Lady Onus?” she felt herself say as soon as she could feel the presence of others surrounding her, their forms slowly coming into focus.

She craned her neck towards the figure closest to her, and she could almost make out the familiar features of her mentor—the pale pink coat, the dark purple mane and tail, the stern blue eyes she’d known since foalhood—but of all the details she could pick out, the one that stood out the most was the look of disappointment etched into her face, a look mixed with worry and—what’s she afraid of? she thought.

“Easy now,” the Lady said. “Are you okay? Can you stand?

Dusk nodded once, a hoof on her temple.

“All right, take my hoof, lass,” said Lord Bastion, his steel grey form standing beside her mentor. “We’re gonna get you to the infirmary so you can lie down.”

I don’t need help, just space, she thought. Ugh, my head feels like it’s going to explode. She rose shakily onto all four of her hooves, and once she was standing, she breathed in and out a few more times until the room stopped spinning. Still somewhat unsure of her balance, she opted to keep her stance a bit wide, but after a few moments, she was more or less composed. “I-I’m fine. Just a bit … dizzy, is all.”

“Nonsense, you’re as white as a ghost, dear,” Lady Serenity spoke up, turning towards the brown figure next to her. “Safeguard, can you go fetch Feather Duster? Tell her to bring an extra strength antacid tablet and two capsules of headache medicine.”

Lord Safeguard nodded, then turned and trotted out of the room. Lady Serenity focused her attention back towards Dusk, giving her an even look. “Relax, dear. No one wants to have you passing out on us, now.”

“Serenity’s right, Dusk,” Lady Onus said as she stood at her student’s side, casting a reassuring smile towards her, though it was a bit strained. “After Feather Duster comes with the medicine, we’ll take you to the infirmary. If the headaches are anything like I remember them, you’ll be lucky to even fall asleep. At least there we can properly monitor you.”

“But what about the—”

“We’ll discuss the results of your examination later,” she said, and for a brief moment, Dusk thought she was desperately trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “For now, I believe it’s prudent that we—”

“No,” Dusk said, stepping away from her mentor. It took a great deal of effort to stay balanced, but she managed to keep standing. “I need answers, right now. W-What the heck was that? What were those things, t-that place?”

“Lass, calm down, there’s no need to—”

“Shut up!” Dusk put a hoof to her temple once more as her headache tore its way through her thoughts. She looked back towards her mentor. “I have to know. Please, please just tell me.”

Lady Onus recognized the look her student had, the one of stubborn determination that she’d seen quite often in her ward throughout the years. She’d been proud to see that look before, but now it only served to remind her of the current state of affairs. She levied a steady gaze at her in reply, pausing for a moment before she heaved a heavy sigh. “That was your final Trial, Dusk. I don’t know what exactly existed inside the dream—everyone’s Trial is different—but now is not the time nor the place to discuss these things.”

Dusk gritted her teeth. “You’re holding something back,” she said, her eyes narrowed. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me everything.”

“What is it you want me to say?” the Lady said.

Dusk stared at her mentor for several seconds. “Did I pass?”

The Lady returned her stare, unwavering, then simply said, “No.”

It was like a blow to the gut, knocking the wind out of Dusk as her eyes widened in response. “W-What do you mean, ‘no’?” she said. It wasn’t so much a question as a statement, filled with a building dread.

Lady Onus exhaled slowly. “It means you’ve failed the test.” When her student visibly tensed, she rested a hoof on her shoulder and looked straight into her eyes. “And most importantly, it means I’ve failed you as your teacher. For that, I am truly so—”

“You’re lying,” Dusk spat, her eyes shut and head lowered. “T-There’s no way I didn’t pass! Not unless that … that wasn’t the real test, right? I mean, it couldn’t’ve been, it wasn’t even testing anything!”

Lord Bastion stepped forward. “Lass, you need to calm—”

“I want the real test now, not whatever that was.” She slowly made her way back to the apparatus, almost falling over twice before she managed to lift herself back into the chair. “T-There’s things I need to get started on tomorrow, so please stop joking around and give me the real thing.”

Nobody moved, instead focusing their attention on her with various expressions of concern. All except Princess Luna, who stood aside and simply watched the fiasco unfold. “W-Why are you all looking at me like I’m crazy? Just start the stupid test already!”

“Dusk, listen to us,” Lady Onus said, moving towards Lord Bastion’s side. “There is no other ‘real’ test. We’ve all taken the same one you have. Please get out of there. You need to rest, and—”

“Don’t tell me what I need!” she screamed. “I just have to put the helmet back on, right? That’s how the whole thing starts.” She lowered the device onto her head with her magic, but after a few seconds of sitting there, nothing happened. “Come on, why isn’t this thing working?” She took it off and put it on again, repeating the action several times to no avail. Her face twisted into a snarl, and after one more try, she flung the helmet to the side, nearly hitting Lady Serenity before the wires pulled tight.

“Dusk Flash!” Lady Onus snapped, as Lord Bastion trotted over to Lady Serenity to assist her back onto her hooves. “We want to help you, but you need to calm down!”

“If you want to help me, then give me the real test!” Dusk said, tears streaming down her face as she glared at her mentor. “I don’t understand—you raised me for this! I spent my whole life training for today. How is it even possible to fail?”

She slammed a hoof into one of the chair’s armrests, wincing slightly but saying nothing of it. Her headache had grown worse, rapidly approaching a migraine, but she kept herself focused, if only barely. “What am I supposed to do now? I can’t wait another year! It’ll be too late by then. I promised him, I promised him I’d—”

“Enough.”

The voice filled the room in an instant, silencing all other sound and leaving those closest to the source holding their ears for several seconds afterwards. She turned in its direction, only to see the look of barely-contained rage on Princess Luna’s face as the diarch promptly stood before her. Her body began to shake.

“This childish tantrum has proceeded long enough. The idea that you have been wronged in any way is both inane and preposterous. You, and only you, Dusk Flash, are responsible for the results of the Trial. Any further baseless accusations on your part will be met with equal condemnation.” Her eyes narrowed. “Am I perfectly clear on this?”

Dusk stared at her, brain pounding, but despite the small part of her that still wanted to continue, and the splitting headache, she lowered her head and nodded slightly. “Y-Yes, your Majesty.”

Princess Luna glanced towards the door as Lord Safeguard re-entered the room with Feather Duster in tow. “Ah, good.” She turned to Lady Onus. “Have Ms. Feather Duster take your student to this infirmary of yours. She is in no proper condition to be left to her own devices at present.”

Her eyes were stern as she looked back at Dusk. “Given your performance on the previous two Trials, I expected better of you, even in your failings. We shall discuss your punishment, as well as how to proceed in light of the day’s events, on the morrow.” Her gaze softened slightly, though her voice still commanded attention. “Rest well, and when I send for you, do not be late. Understood?”

Dusk gulped. “Yes, your Majesty.”

Over the next several minutes, Lady Serenity followed Feather Duster and Dusk out of the testing room, and they were soon joined by Lords Bastion and Safeguard, both of whom bowed slightly towards the princess before continuing on their way. When the door finally shut behind them, a silence settled over the two remaining ponies, each one working through their own thoughts.

Neither of them dared break that silence, and so the only remaining sound in the room came from the whir of the viewport crystal as it slowly rotated in its chassis. At least, until Princess Luna found the right words to say.

“You were right, Lady Onus.”

The Lady turned towards the princess, looking at her sad expression as she continued watching the door. She sighed. “I assure you, your Majesty, I didn’t want to be.”

Princess Luna chuckled sardonically. “Yes, well, that still does not rectify a problem brought about by my own foolishness.” She glanced over to Lady Onus, pausing for a moment before continuing. “My sister told me the Aegis had done away with the mandated recruitment policies, yet why was the familial clause kept in place?”

“Because at the time, the clause still worked in our favor,” the Lady said, her gaze cast away from the princess. “To be honest, your Highness, I never once agreed with the policy, but I was simply a recruit at the time. The old Aegists thought we’d always have parents willing to volunteer their foals. What in the world gave them that idea, I will never know.”

“What about now?” The princess gave her a quizzical look. “You are no longer unable to affect matters. Surely you all have at least discussed this.”

“We have, but the others are too … traditional, I suppose is the right word.” She sighed once more. “They believe the more ponies are aware of the danger, the more recruits we will gain, and the less likely incidents such as the circumstances surrounding Dusk would occur again. Sadly, the bureaucrats would rather pretend we don't exist than somehow risk the safety of Equestria for some reason.”

She rolled her eyes. “As if knowing about danger prevents ponies from deterring it. They likely fear having to increase our budget more than anything, though I doubt ponies would be lining up to give up their children for this life even if we were more well-known.” Her eyes went wide as her mind reminded her of the present company. “I-I apologize, Princess. You shouldn’t have to listen to me complain.”

Princess Luna smiled, laughing a bit under her breath. “It is all right, Lady Onus. I am quite familiar with the difficulties of dealing with politicians. After all, I am a princess.” She paused for a moment, examining the mare before her. “Would you perhaps like to know why I implemented the familial clause all those years ago?”

The Lady quickly composed herself, then nodded. “If you don’t mind, your Majesty.”

The princess’s smile shrank, though remained present as her demeanor turned pensive. “When I first founded the Aegis, it was during a time when my little ponies were much more … honorbound to family and race—but most especially family. After the parasite had finally been contained, I could not continue monitoring its imprisonment and still tend to my other duties, so I turned to the noble unicorn families my sister and I trusted most to aid in this endeavor, but suffice to say, the overwhelming majority were loath to assist.”

She chuckled, though the Lady didn’t catch on to whatever was funny. “It was to be a lifetime commitment, and I purposefully sought out the most powerful unicorns amongst the youngest of the families for this very reason.” Closing her eyes, she sighed, then returned her gaze to the Lady. “Sadly, I soon realized that those few I had managed to recruit were more invested in the prospect of honor for their families, and when—what is the phrase—push came to shove, they would care more about the security of their blood relatives than they would the safety of Equestria, should the parasite ever break free once more.”

Her gaze hardened. “’Twas then that I reached the decision to require every noble unicorn house to give up any newborn foals deemed of vast magical potential, should the number of those in the Aegis dip too low.” A frown crept onto her face, and she again turned away from Lady Onus. “At the time, it seemed the most prudent decision, and a small price to pay for securing the safety of our young country. Recruits were brought in groups, were raised together, trained together, and championed well those tenets I had crafted for them.”

Her frown deepened, filled with regret. “Yet, looking back now, I can only see how foolish I was to never anticipate a future in which less and less unicorns of high magical potential were born each year, to never know what would happen should circumstances lead only one pony to be recruited, to be raised in isolation, all alone with no companion but her own thoughts.”

Silence settled over the two of them once more, each again lost in their own inner reflections. “You shouldn’t blame yourself, Princess Luna,” Lady Onus said. “It’s my fault as her mentor. I saw all the signs, but did nothing about them. I’d hoped to a least—”

“It is neither your fault nor your burden to shoulder alone any longer, Lady Onus,” the princess said as her sad smile returned. “Today was the result of my own decisions so long ago. Perhaps it is past time to rectify the issue.”

The Lady simply nodded.

“However, there is one minor problem,” the princess looked at her, an eyebrow raised. “To whom was your protégé referring before I defused the earlier fiasco?”

<----------------------->

Dusk stared at the surface of the dining room table, her head lowered not in shame, but in self-indulgent anger. Sitting there, alone as she was, she took the silence all around her as her cue to “reflect” on her “actions”, as her superiors would no doubt expect her to do. It’s way too early in the morning for this, she thought. In fact, I’d rather never leave my bed for the rest of my life.

Today was supposed to be the swearing-in ceremony, the day she would finally take up the mantle of the Aegis and uphold the responsibilities she’d been raised to perform. Today was supposed to be the day she could finally take her first step in helping Zero, the day she finally got the chance to leave—if only for a little while—and to search for the only things in the whole universe that could solve the millennium-old problem her would-be peers kept from spiraling out of control.

Now look what happened, she thought. You … failed, and threw a temper tantrum to boot. You’d be lucky if the Princess didn’t banish you to the moon or something.

Humoring herself, she thought back to the test just yesterday, grimacing as she recounted as many of the details as she wanted to. Not that there were many of those, but her curiosity—as per usual—got the better of her. What was the whole point of that, anyway? Lady Onus said it was to ‘test my resolve’, or something, right? Was I supposed to rescue whoever that was? Why, though?

When her ears twitched at the approaching sound of hoofsteps, she set her questions aside and turned to face the new arrivals. Princess Luna and Lady Onus stood at the entryway, each giving her looks of concern and equal parts disappointment. She wanted to vomit. Pausing for a moment, her eyes settled on the princess with a mixture of leftover anger and a whole lot of fear, though mostly fear. A shiver went up her spine, but she managed to keep herself at least looking composed.

Now that I think about it, banishment is probably the least of my worries, she thought, barely registering the two mares taking their seats at the opposite end of the table. Princess Luna’s only been back for, what, two years? If so, medieval torture isn’t completely out of the question.

“Good morning, Miss Flash. I see that you have—”

All that power—was making ponies’ heads explode a punishment back then? That’d be a terrible way to go. I kind of like my head.

“Miss Flash?”

Maybe dismemberment? From what I read, it was a very popular method of punishment-slash-torture back in the old Unicronian days. Of course, even if I asked, she probably wouldn’t go for the head first. Too quick—gotta savor it. But which part would be better? The hind legs, most likely. That way you can only drag yourself around until your front legs join them in the pile.

“Dusk Flash.”

The princess’s booming voice snapped Dusk out of her demented reverie, and the unicorn once more focused on the lunar diarch, withering slightly under her stare. “I-I’m sorry, your Majesty. Were you saying something?”

Princess Luna arched an eyebrow, then sighed. “I had hoped you would be more attentive, considering the situation. Yet you are mumbling inanities to yourself.”

“R-Right. Sorry.” Dusk exhaled in relief. Mumbling. Good, that means she probably didn’t hear me think out loud. She glanced around at the myriad of empty seats beside her two pseudo-judges, the glaring absences striking her as a bit out of place. The whole setup was a bit awkward—the Aegis didn’t have its own ‘trial room’ of sorts, bearing in mind that so few ponies had been recruited over the years. In fact, if she could remember right, her mentor was the last recruit accepted into the organization. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but where are the others?”

“Lord Bastion and Lady Serenity are tending to the barrier crystal,” Lady Onus said, her eyes shifting towards the princess before returning to her student. “And Lord Safeguard is busy with … whatever it is that he usually does. You know how it is.”

Dusk gave her mentor a quizzical look. I don’t know whether or not that’s a good thing. Maybe it’s best that I don’t ask—that stallion is an enigma. She shook her head slightly, enough not to be noticeable. But what was that about the crystal?

“In any case, I shall ask you again,” the princess continued, her tone even and eyes locked on Dusk’s rigid form. “Are you aware of the predicament in which you currently find yourself, or are you not?”

She paused, forcing her head to clear once more. “Yes, I’m … aware.”

“Oh? Enlighten us, then.”

Hesitating for a moment, she then let out a sigh of defeat. “I-I failed the test, and kind of went … crazy about it afterwards. I guess this is the part where I’m supposed to say ‘sorry’, right?” She scanned the two mares for any sign of their reaction, but other than the strange mixture of silent anger, concern, and sympathy that decorated their faces, she saw nothing. She sunk into her seat. “Right. Sorry.”

“Dusk,” Lady Onus spoke up, giving her student a small smile. “While the apology is appreciated, we aren’t going to punish you for the outcome of the Trial itself, only for your actions in light of the results. We don’t punish failure.”

“Then—”

“However, there are still matters which need to be discussed, Miss Flash,” Princess Luna said. “For starters, are you aware of why you failed the final Trial? Answer this honestly.”

Dusk stared at the princess for a few seconds, and though she had the almost instinctive urge to lower her head in shame, she met the diarch’s gaze as unflinchingly as she could. “…No, your Highness.” For an instant, she thought she saw a frown begin forming on the princess’s face before it promptly returned to its emotionless state.

“I see.” Princess Luna glanced towards Lady Onus, the two of them sharing a quick look of disappointment before she settled back on Dusk. “If that is the case, recite for us the Hallowed Tenets of the Aegis.”

…huh?

“I—” Dusk shook her head. “Forgive me for not really understanding, Princess, but what do the Tenets have to do with this?”

The princess sighed. “Simply recite them, then, if only to humor me.”

I still don’t see the point of this.

“We will defend against our enemies to our final breath, we will fight for those who—” Her eyes widened in realization, though the princess made no move to tell her to stop. She gulped. “For those who c-cannot, no pony is a-above sacrifice, fealty to each other and to the world, our lives are i-immaterial and the sanctity must continue.” She lowered her head, every ounce of what was left of her pride gone. Dusk, you really are an idiot.

“I judge from your demeanor that you have figured out the why, yes?”

Dusk slowly nodded, though refused to look up at her superiors. ‘But what do the Tenets have to do with this?’ Ugh, she thought. I’m not just an idiot. I’m the biggest moron alive.

“By letting your fear get ahold of you, Dusk, you broke three of our sacred Tenets,” Lady Onus said, frowning at the sight of her dejected student. “Not taking into account your actions after the test, there’s still the problem of how we’re going to deal with this.”

Princess Luna nodded. “Thankfully, your mentor and I have reached an agreement on a suitable enterprise, to function as both punishment for your misconduct and reevaluation for your eligibility to undergo the Trials in the next year.”

Dusk’s ears perked up, her gaze returning to her two judges. I’m getting a bad feeling about this, she thought, though she didn’t fail to acknowledge the underlying belief that it was no less than what she deserved. “W-What kind of ‘enterprise’?”

The princess paused, and Dusk thought she could see a faint smile on her lips. Not of triumph or vindication, but of, oddly enough, regret. “On the morrow, you are to be sent to a small township several miles to the South-East dubbed Ponyville, placed in the care of a … close friend of mine. And until such a time as when I see you fit to once again undergo the Trials, you will be required to familiarize yourself with the town’s citizens and culture.”

Her jaw almost crashed through the table, her eyes wide as saucers. “W-W-W-What?” she said, almost screaming. I-I don’t understand—why would they even come up with something like this? It makes no sense!

Lady Onus breathed a sigh of relief, then turned towards her student. Her gaze was stern, though it was betrayed—if only for a moment—by a slight smile returning to her face. “We’ll have your things sent over tonight, but bring anything extra you want with you when you go.”

Dusk fell silent for several moments, mulling over the figurative bombshell that just occurred. Hold on, if I’m leaving, that means I can finally search for the Elements! Her head was swimming with a mixture of joy, fear, and no small amount of doubt. This puts me closer to actually fixing all this, and I don’t even know if I can believe it. There has to be a catch.

After parsing through the information her superiors presented, she glanced between the two of them. “What about the … punishment?” she said, hoping they didn’t see her tremble.

Princess Luna’s smile faded, a steady, yet sad look quickly replacing it. “Yes, well, given your actions after the final Trial, I can only see fit to assign you two ordinances, to … assist in correcting the issue.” She steadied her expression before continuing. “Firstly, for every two weeks spent in Ponyville, you are to send me correspondence on your relationship with the locals. They need not be long, but they must show progress.

“Secondly, and I say this with the utmost importance, should you decide to stray far from where I have sent you, there shall be no opportunity for a second chance. If you are found in violation of this condition, you shall be barred from the Trials, and expelled from this organization posthaste, for however long is necessary.” She narrowed her eyes. “Am I understood?”

The young unicorn recoiled slightly. “I—I—” Her ears fell, and she once more found herself staring at the table. Yes, your Majesty.”

Great, just great.

“Lastly,” the princess glanced towards Lady Onus, who nodded in response to the unspoken question. There was clearly hesitation on her subordinate’s face, but she believed it was best to get this over with. “Until such a time as you are fully prepared for the Trials once again, I shall take up the role of your mentor.”

Dusk stared blankly at the diarch. Wait, what? “I-I don’t understand, Princess. Why would you, of all ponies, take on a student?”

The princess smiled. “Do not think it so strange, Dusk Flash. My sister has taken on several students throughout the years. This shall be no different.”

Author's Note

Dusk's last name was suggested to me by a close compatriot, in reference to an actual phenomenon knows as a "green flash" which occurs during the twilight hours. While I understand some will point out that it's too similar to "Flash Sentry", I don't care.

So hah.

Eat it, meatbags.