Chapters Celestia flared her wings and set down on the crystal balcony. Her golden shoes barely made a noise, as if too cowed to actually follow physics and break the silence that seemed to have fallen over the place. She felt the tingle in the air; a kind of tension, like many breaths being held as many ponies waited for someone to tell them what was going on.
Someone like her.
It was always her who told others what was happening; always her who saw the bigger picture and endured the frightened gasps when the truth was bad. Being a ruler meant you kept your happiness close and your sorrows closer, the better to shield your ponies from the hurts of life.
Cadence was waiting at the Prench window. Briefly they touched noses, a courteous bit of affection that spoke far more than words could.
“Thank you for coming so quickly, Auntie.”
“Where is she?” Celestia asked softly.
“In the catacombs. We couldn’t move her. She … she set up a shielding spell to keep us out.”
Celestia nodded, expression carefully neutral. “Take me to her.”
It didn’t matter that Cadence was a princess with her own Empire now. Celestia’s quiet authority chimed the old chime in her niece and Cadence ceded to the order without protest that it was an order. Celestia noted this and filed it away as something to speak to Cadence about later. Rulers needed to be careful about who saw them being ruled themselves.
Guards stood aside, servants melting away into side rooms and alcoves as they passed by. Celestia knew she was imposing but wondered absently which alicorn they were most reverent of. More than one eye followed Cadence with the kind of awed wonder usually reserved for a goddess. The two alicorns trotted down long hallways and through rooms with such ornate vaulted ceilings that even Celestia was impressed. Stained glass windows were her favourite decoration at home but these put her whole receiving chamber to shame. Intricate patterns wove in an out in a calculated dance of colour, light and shadow that made her want to stop and study them even when she knew she should not. The power of the beauty here was staggering.
The Crystal Empire had always been renowned for its architecture. Millennia ago, they had hoarded their secrets and allowed nopony outside their lands to learn how they created such magnificent splendour from solid crystal. Their insular nature had been their downfall, since they interacted so rarely with the outside world that nopony knew what Sombra had wrought here until it was too late. The crystal ponies had paid a high price for their self-interest. Celestia hoped the second chance they had been granted would result in a more open international policy. Judging by the number who had emigrated to Canterlot, she had faith they would not repeat the mistakes of the past.
Shining Armour was at his post on the last door. Magic prickled along Celestia’s shoulders, making her hackles rise involuntarily. The doors muffled it, infused as they were in magic of their own, but still the tang of alicorn spellcasting suffused the air. She shook off the feelings as Shining bowed to her.
“At ease. You’re not my Royal Guard Captain anymore, Shining Armour.”
“Apologies, your Majesty. The whole prince thing is still new to me.” He rose, nuzzling Cadence warmly.
“Is she still inside?” Celestia asked.
His face contorted for a moment before he could hide it. “Yes, your Majesty. She is. She … hasn’t come out since Wednesday.”
Celestia was aghast. “But that was two days ago!” Alicorns could slow their metabolism at will in times of crisis, but dehydration affected them as much as any mortal pony.
“We made sure to leave food and water beside her shield,” Shining Armour explained. “Sometimes she takes it. Sometimes she doesn’t. Mostly she just sits and … well, stares.”
“She used to talk,” Cadence added. “First to us, then to herself, we thought, but ...” She bit her lip before continuing. “She stopped after a while. It’s like we’re not even there anymore.”
Celestia’s chest clenched. She ruffled her feathers. “Take me to her.” She arched her neck. “Please.”
Nodding, Shining gestured to a pair of Crystal Guards, who pulled open the heavy double doors. A winding, rough-hewn staircase spiralled away into blackness pierced only by sconces in the walls. The crystal surface beneath Celestia’s hooves became coarse as she stepped forward. Her shoes crunched and squeaked slightly. It was not jagged enough to cut through the enchanted metal, but anyone without wings would have to mind not to slip or they would be badly gashed. She lit her horn for extra light, bathing everything in a soft golden glow.
Shining Armour and Cadence followed as she began her descent. Part of her wanted to shoo them away, but she allowed them to accompany her, as much for their benefit as for her own. They bade the guards remain behind and soon the only thing cutting through the silence was the sound of three sets of hoofsteps.
The shadows peeled back against Celestia’s magic. It was quite some time before the bottom of the cave loomed up from the darkness. Large shapes glistened in the ever-widening circle of her light like something on an ocean floor; ancient and raw, they pulsed with magic only a few ponies in the world knew how to use. One such pony them had met a horrible end only a short year ago, though by rights he should have died a thousand years prior. There would have been much less pain if he had.
The catacombs stretched out in all directions but Celestia immediately knew which way to go. She recognised her sister’s magic as easily as she would her own and sped up to reach her. Cadence and Shining Armour struggled to keep up with her longer stride but she did not slow for them. She faltered only when the pale blue iridescence of Luna’s shield spell came into view.
A figure sat in the middle of the radiant half-globe. Luna’s mane and tail billowed like always, but something about her was diminished. She seemed smaller than Celestia remembered, even though she had spoken to her only a few days prior. Luna had been smiling then, pleased at the rising popularity of the Night Court amongst the Equestrian citizens. That had been before the letter arrived from the Crystal Empire about the strange discovery beneath the Crystal Castle and she had teleported herself out of Canterlot without Celestia’s knowledge, causing uproar when night failed to come and she was nowhere to be found.
“Luna?”
Luna did not turn.
“Sister, please.”
Still, she did not move.
“We tried calling her. We even tried yelling at her. She never responds,” Shining Armour explained.
Celestia was not deterred. “Luna, let me in. let me in right now or I will break this spell myself and come to you whether you like it or not.” The authority of the Sun Princess fell away, relinquishing itself to the authority of a big sister.
A big sister who knew her little sister was in pain.
A big sister who wasn’t sure she could heal it, but was determined to try anyway.
The shield spelled flickered just long enough to indicate Luna had heard her. Then it died.
Celestia stepped through the crystalline outcroppings, choosing a place that looked least uncomfortable to sit down. Next to her, Luna continued to stare upwards as if still alone. The silence between them was heavy as air before a storm. Celestia wondered whether she should be the one to break it. She was grateful to Cadence and Shining Armour for keeping back. This was a private matter. She would explain it to them later – they deserved some answers – but for now all that mattered was Luna and the focus of her baleful stare.
“Sister –”
“He was here all this time.” Luna’s voice sounded crackly from disuse and possibly dehydration. Her eyes were red and puffy but dry. She clearly had not been resting properly. “The catacombs did not vanish with the rest of the palace. They were buried here, under the snow. He was here … buried here alone … for all this time.”
“Luna, I –”
“I do not know how to free him, sister. I have tried as many spells as I am able but … none have worked and … and I am frightened that if I try more powerful magic I may …. I may hurt … even k-kill …” Her words dissolved into pained heaving, as if just trying to say them caused her pain.
Celestia spread one wing and used it to draw her sister close. She was reminded of times when they were young and she had performed the same gesture to help cut knees or stubbed noses feel less painful. A wing-hug could not heal a broken heart, however.
The unicorn stallion locked in the chunk of crystal before them stared out, though she would wager he could not see them. His prison was as ageless as the cavern around them: cold, beautiful and cruel. It was an ignoble fate for a pony who had saved her sister’s life. Celestia could feel his life pulsing gently at the centre of the crystal, but the secrets of crystal magic had been another thing the Empire hoarded during its heyday. She suspected most had disappeared with Sombra himself. The irony was too awful: by defeating the despot, Twilight and her friends may have taken away the only means Luna had to reunite with the pony who had loved her when it seemed to her that everyone else favoured her sister.
Loved her enough to take the blast of crystal magic meant for her.
Loved her enough to endure a living death.
Loved her enough to leave her all alone.
Loved her enough that the loss of him had eaten away at her and Nightmare Moon had seeped into the corrosive loneliness left by his loss.
“He once gave me a paperweight of a moth encased inside a crystal ball,” Luna whispered. “He had come here, to the Empire, especially to purchase it for me as a token on my birthday. I thought it a terrible gift. I was always so foul-tempered back then. I thought he was calling me a moth to your a beautiful butterfly, so I smashed it in a rage. Do you know what he did? He picked up every single shard with his telekinesis and spent a month putting it back together. When he gave it to me again, I didn’t understand. It was uglier than ever, all covered in cracks so one could not see the moth inside anymore. He told me that imperfection is beauty and to love someone’s imperfections is to love them fully. I … I didn’t understand. I sent him away. I was hurt. And then … I wanted the crystal to be whole again. I didn’t want it to be imperfect. It seemed so important at the time. I was so … so stupid. S-so I came here to the Empire, to have one of the artisans work their magic upon it. Sombra heard that I was here and must have thought I was spying on him … he sent an … assassin …” Her eyes closed. Her lashes were spiked with moisture. “Mystic had followed me. If it weren’t for him, I … it would be me in this crystal prison now, not him.”
“We will take him back to Equestria with us,” Celestia murmured. “Whatever happens, Luna, we will find a way to save him. I promise.”
It was not a promise she knew she could keep, and therefore it was a cruel promise to make, but Celestia made it anyway.
And Luna finally stopped staring at the stallion, buried her face in her big sister’s wing and sobbed out a heartbreak over a thousand years old.
Author's Note
This was written as a Patreon request for Mystic Mystery. If you would like me to write a story for you, why not check out my Patreon rewards and consider becoming a patron yourself?
Link to my Patreon !
A quiet room.
A ticking clock.
A waiting mare.
A spell.
A glowing horn.
A disappointment.
A failure.
Again.
A day.
A week.
A month.
Still, she waits.
Still, the room is quiet.
Still, she casts. And casts. And casts.
Still, her sister tends to her.
Still, her hoofmaidens urge her to sleep.
A question from a curious student.
A shake of a saddened white head.
A lament for the long-gone Elements of Harmony.
An idea.
A book.
A spell.
A train pulling into the station.
A crystal princess.
An eternal student.
A promise to be kept by an elder sister.
A tired smile.
A single glowing horn. Then another. And another. And another.
A hope.
A prayer.
A crack in the crystal. Tiny. Insignificant.
Enough.
The Summer Fete sprawled across the meadow like a many-legged beast trying to scramble somewhere between Ponyville and the Everfree Forest. The ponies setting up stalls, unloading wares, stringing out decorations and calling instructions to each other were brief splashes of colour and noise on an otherwise peaceful morning.
Twilight stared down from the balcony of her castle and tried not to mentally list all the ways today could go wrong.
“Keep it together, Twilight.”
She tried to wrest her thoughts onto a more positive topic: her supreme organisation skills, the smiles on the faces of all the colts and fillies who were helping out, her own friends ready and raring to go. Yet no matter what she did, she kept being drawn back to that ever-growing list.
“This is stupid,” she muttered, as she retreated inside and descended through the castle’s labyrinthine halls to the kitchen and a nice soothing pot of tea. “I’m being totally overdramatic. Nothing will go wrong. Nothing at all. Nope. Totally going to be totally fine. Totally.”
The kettle on the stovetop whistled piercingly. Her ears flattened against her skull.
“I hope.”
“Are you sure you’re all right, Twi?”
Applejack fought the urge to take her friend’s hoof. Twilight looked so drained and wan that it was a miracle she was standing at all.
“All right might be pushing it, but I’m not going to collapse or anything like that.”
Applejack remained unconvinced. Judging by their friends’ expressions, they weren’t buying it either.
“I reckon you better sit down before you fall down,” Rainbow Dash opined.
“I have a cushion right here!” Pinkie held up the oversized beanbag. It was shaped like Twilight’s head.
“Where did you-?” Twilight stopped herself with a shake of her head. “No, never mind, it’s pointless to ask. Girls, seriously, I’m fine. I was just one part of the spell. The princesses and I all shared the burden of the casting equally.”
Rarity scrunched up her nose. “Even so, darling, you do look rather washed out.”
“It was hard keeping the balance of power. Princess Luna kept trying to shoulder more of the burden. It was generous, I guess, but in a magic spell designed to be shared equally …” Twilight sighed. “Not a great idea. We all had to keep her back as much as push ourselves forward.”
Applejack had understood maybe a third of all that. What she understood perfectly was that Twilight, Cadence, Luna and Celestia had performed some kind of miracle tonight, all based on Twilight’s idea and something cadence had brought from the Crystal Empire, and that nopony else had been allowed anywhere near the laboratory in which they cast their spell until well after the lightshow was over. Being an earth pony, Applejack had an innate aversion to using magic to solve her problems, but she knew a big spell when she saw it.
An’ that one was a whompin’ big ol’ spell like I ain’t never seen before. Whole castle lit up bright as Tirek when we used the Rainbow Magic on him.
There had been six of them against Tirek. She wondered whether she had looked as bad as Twilight did now. It was all a bit of a blur now.
Twilight looked over her shoulder. “I came to tell you girls what’s going on, but I’d better get back there. The other princesses need me.”
“What, still?” Applejack took a step forward. “Twi, you gotta rest!”
“I will.” Twilight nodded, already motioning to the guards who had escorted her down to the chambers she and her friends often used when in Canterlot together. “When this is over.”
“Twilight, please –”
“If … if anything happens.” Twilight met Applejack’s eye, then cast her gaze over the rest of her friends. “I’m trusting you guys to take care of it.”
“What the heck are we supposed to take care of that four alicorns can’t handle?” Spike demanded.
“Hush, Spikey!” Rarity chastised, causing a blush to cremate Spike’s cheeks.
“We’ll do what we can, Twi.” She may have been wrong, but Applejack could have sworn Twilight had held her gaze longer than the others’. She had seen something in Twilight’s eyes in that brief moment: deep-seated tiredness mingled with triumph and … something else. Sadness maybe? “You can count on us.”
“I know I can.” Twilight smiled and let her escorts pull the doors closed behind her.
“Twilight!” Applejack’s waving hoof was an orange beacon across the milling crowd.
Smiling, Twilight trotted towards her friend. “Excuse me. Pardon me. So sorry. If I could just squeeze through here? Thank you so much.” She popped out the other side of the crowd in a motion not totally unlike a cork from a bottle. Righting herself and trying not to be too obvious about smoothing down her mane, she beamed, “Hi! You guys are here early.”
“Eeyup,” Big Mac agreed.
Applejack tilted her head at the cart of apples her brother was pulling. “Early bird catches the worm, right?”
“How many worms are you planning on catching with that contraption?”
She laughed. “You never did see my award-winning performance at the Grand Gallopin’ Gala, did you, sugarcube?” It took some manoeuvring to reach behind herself and pat the folded up huckster’s booth she had dragged all the way from Sweet Apple Acres, but somehow she managed it. “Are the others here yet?”
“As ever, you’re the first to arrive.”
“As ever?” Applejack raised an eyebrow.
Thinking she had somehow caused offence, Twilight instinctively raised her hooves in a placating gesture. “Just, y’know, you like to get to events nice and, ah, bright and early!”
The eyebrow rose higher.
“It’s that good, ah, strong Apple family work ethic at, ah … work.” Twilight grimaced. “Can you rescue me from this conversation now?”
Applejack’s laugh was like fresh golden delicious rolling around in a wooden bucket. “Why when you’re so entertainin’?”
Twilight’s mouth scrunched up in a moue, but it dropped from her features just as quickly as all their ears perked at a familiar high-pitched laugh.
“Ooh, can we have a cute cart contest today too? Twilight could totally judge it.”
“Hi Pinkie!”
“Hey there, Pinkie Pie.”
“Eeyup.”
Pinkie jogged up to them, apparently no slower than usual despite the brightly painted cart bouncing along behind her. It could not have been any pinker if she has plastered herself against the wood grain and pretended to be paint. Beneath the tarpaulin, sealed containers of wonderful smelling cargo jostled together.
“Hi girls! Well, and boy. Or you could be an honorary girl for today. How does that sound, Macintosh?”
“Hmm. Pity. You’d look super-duper in a dress.” Apparently not noticing or maybe not caring about the irony of her own statement, Pinkie trotted up to … and then straight past the trio. “Sorry, got to get these baked goods to the tea tent quick pronto! We’ve got to make sure today goes extra specially magnificently super specially awesomely perfect for the princess, right? And the earl pony catches the churn! Or something like that.” Her snorting giggles blended into the general chatter as she was absorbed into the crowd.
“Well …” Twilight said eventually. “At least she’s enthusiastic about today.”
“Sugarcube, when is Pinkie Pie ever not enthusiastic about makin’ a shindig the shinniest dig it could ever could be?”
“Good point.”
“Luna.”
Luna lifted her eyes to Celestia. “Yes, sister?”
“He is not a foal, Luna. You don’t need to cradle him so.”
In response, Luna’s legs twitched, as if she wanted to push the stallion, who was almost as tall as she was, closer against her side. His face was a mess of wrinkles caused, not by age, but by the strain of being reborn into a world that had forgotten him for over a thousand years. Subduing him with a healing enchantment had not been difficult, even in their enfeebled state, but his dreams were clearly troubled ones.
“He is weak,” Luna responded.
“So are you. We all are.” Celestia gestured to Cadence, dozing on a nearby couch and looking far more haggard than Celestia could ever remember seeing her. “He is safe if you leave him to sleep alone.”
Luna bit her lip. Where Cadence seemed to have aged, Luna seemed inordinately younger than usual. Her mane hung limp, no longer a wafting cloud of spectral glory, but a soggy lump of barely glistening hair half-plastered to her neck with dried sweat. She stared at Celestia in a way she had not done in years: with the abject pleading of a filly who wanted her big sister to make all the bad things go away so the world was right again.
Celestia sighed. “At least promise me you won’t go into his dreams.”
Luna nodded. “Thank you, sister.”
Half-convinced she was making a mistake, Celestia turned away. Her own tail swept the floor. It was going to get filthy, but she had barely enough energy to raise her hooves in a slow plod across the room. Gently, she drew a fringed decorative blanket over Cadence, who curled into herself, forelegs crossed strangely across her abdomen. Celestia, however, was too tired to notice and sagged onto a neighbouring couch of her own. Even the base of each and every feather hurt. It was an ordeal to stretch her wings across her body and elegantly lay herself out for a nap.
Which was, of course, when the door to the room opened and her most faithful student barreled unsteadily inside.
“Did I miss anything?”
“No, Twilight. Everything is as you left it when you departed to speak to your friends.”
“It is?” She stared around suspiciously, as if wanting to believe her mentor but at the same time possessing enough life experiences now to distrust anything peaceful situation as anything more than a façade.
“Yes,” Celestia reassured her. “It is.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, Twilight.”
“You’re all still fine?”
“Fine might be stretching things a little, but we are as close as we could be under the circumstances.”
“You’re absolutely sure?”
“Yes, Twilight.”
“Good.” And with that, Twilight Sparkle, ascendant royal and princess of friendship, keeled over unconscious.
Author's Note
I wrote 'Cruel Beauty' as a Patreon reward years ago. The patron wanted me to continue it in exchange for more of their monthly rewards and so I wrote it under the working title 'Sleeping Duty'. Unfortunately the patron dissolved their patronage before the fic was finished and Sleeping Duty went into storage with only a few chapters written. However, I always kind of liked where it was headed back then - even if the direction ended up being not quite what the patron envisioned. It seemed silly to leave it all unpublished forever, so for the foreseeable future, I figured I would release what I had in chaptered form and see whether people liked it enough for me to finish writing it.
As such, feedback is very much appreciated!
“Fillies and gentlecolts!” The PA system whined with a sudden burst of squealing static that made everypony wince. Mayor Mare, consummate politician, maintained her expression of delighted pride until the bevy of tech ponies had fixed the problem. She carried out without missing a beat. “I am delighted and proud to announce that Ponyville’s seventy-fifth annual Summer Fete is officially … open!”
On cue, Princess Luna opened her wings and fluttered from her place on the podium to the red ribbon strung across the spot designated the entrance to the meadow for today. She levitated a pair of absurdly oversized scissor and snipped with ribbon neatly in two. It whiffled to the ground amidst thunderous stamps and hoots from the assembled crowd. Luna smiled beatifically, nodded once and then hovered out of their way.
“Masterfully done, your highness.” Though she covered the microphone with a hoof, Mayor Mare’s whisper echoed through the speakers placed at intervals throughout the stalls and other activities. “Ack! Ponyfeathers.”
“I thank you for your graciousness in inviting me to open such a splendid occasion,” Luna replied. “Extremely large scissors, most amusing.”
“Uh. Yes. Quite.”
“Now, if you will excuse me, I wish to partake of the festivities with my companion.”
“Ahh … yes … your compan–” Mayor Mare frowned at the mic beneath her hoof. “Light Bright, is there some way to stop this blasted thing from broadcasting every single word I say?”
“The switch on the side, ma’am.”
“What?”
“The one labelled ‘off’.”
“…oh.”
Click.
Applejack knocked shoulders with Twilight. “Close your mouth, sugarcube, or else you’ll catch flies.”
Twilight snapped her lower jaw shut. “Please tell me this was a good idea.”
“Say what?”
“The fete. Princess Luna. Him . Tell me it was a good idea.”
“Uh.”
“You’re the pony of honesty, right? If you tell me I made the right decision by suggesting they come here today, that has to make it true.”
Applejack looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Sugarcube, I don’t –”
“Will you relax already, Twilight?” Ever the master of dramatically unexpected arrivals, Rainbow Dash landed between them, causing both ponies to stumble sideways a few steps. “It’ll be fine . Stop stressing so much and chill.”
A light tinkling of laughter heralded Rarity’s approach, Sweetie Belle in tow. “Stop stressing and chill ? Darling, do remember to whom you’re talking.”
“To whom?” Rainbow Dash screwed up her nose.
“If you make faces like that, someday your face will stick.” Rarity patted Twilight on her wing. “She is correct though, darling. It’s a simple country fete. What could possibly go wrong?”
Twilight closed her eyes. “Where do I start? This simple country fete is in Ponyville. This town has a knack for attracting trouble when we least expect it.”
“Well … yes, I will concede that’s true, but that’s no reason to expect trouble.” Rarity endured Twilight’s gaze for a full three seconds before adding, “Well it’s no reason to expect it today at any rate.”
“Rarity, can I have some bits for the stalls please?” Sweetie Belle asked. “I said to Apple Bloom and Scootaloo that I’d meet them, Diamond Tiara, Silver Spoon and Twist by the coconut shy.”
“Goodness, you and your growing social entourage!” Rarity exclaimed. “My sister, the socialite. Oh, I’m so proud!” Delicately, she retrieved several coins from her saddlebag and presented them to her sister like they were the crown jewels of Canterlot Castle. As Sweetie accepted them into her own telekinesis, Rarity planted a kiss on top of her head.
“Rarityyyyyy! I thought we agreed you wouldn’t do that in public anymooooore!”
Rarity laughed and shooed her off.
“Oh, they grow up so fast, don’t they?” Shed wiped an invisible tear from her eye. “But back to the matter at hoof. Twilight, I absolutely insist you come with me and stop thinking about Princess Luna and her, ah … stallion friend.”
“Seems a mite more than a friend to me,” Applejack muttered. “Friends don’t go on dates, for one thing.”
Rarity rolled her eyes, grabbed Twilight’s hoof and dragged her away. “Come, darling, the tombola awaits!”
“Tombola? Boooooooooring. I’m going to hit the Whack-a-Rat stall!” Rainbow Dash took to the air, sparing Applejack a deprecating look. “You’re probably doing something epically boring too, huh?”
“Nah, Big Mac’s got first crack on our stall. I figured I’d take a turn or two around the meadow before I take over; see what’s what.” Applejack watched the departing unicorn and alicorn as she spoke.
A sly grin crept over Rainbow Dash’s face. “Bet I can whack more fake rats than you.”
A matching grin curled the corners of Applejack’s mouth. “You’re on, sugarcube.”
“He is different than he was.” Luna hung her head so low, her muzzle nearly dipped into the soup a servant had brought for her. “The doctor called it … some collection of letters I did not understand. Post-something.”
“Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder?” Celestia ventured. “PTSD?”
“That sounds close enough that it may be correct.”
“He did undergo a great trauma, sister.”
“He has not spoken a word since we woke him.” Luna’s voice was a hoarse whisper that made Celestia’s heart clench. “Not one word in three days. Not … not even to … me.” A bead of moisture slipped off her nose and plopped into her soup. “All he does is stare. It is like he is not there behind his eyes anymore.”
Not since they were first reunited after Nightmare Moon had Celestia so wanted to take all the ills in her sister’s life and make them her own, just to bring Luna a little peace. It had taken months of carefully lavished love, care and encouragement to heal Luna that time. Yet even so, the issue with the Tantabus had proven that even then, her mental state had scarred over but not truly healed even years after her reintegration to Equestrian society.
“The doctors said to give it time.”
“I know what the physicians said!” In a sudden burst of explosive motion, Luna’s forehooves smashed down on the table-top. She leaned forward, snorting through flared nostrils and glaring at her sister with all the wrath of a ruler of the realm facing down a terrible foe.
For her part, Celestia calmly wiped pieces of vegetables from her face and blinked soup off her eyelashes. She used her hooves to remove the upended soup bowl from her horn. Her magic was still weak and she needed to conserve everything she could for raising and lowering the sun each day. She did not take her eyes off Luna.
Gradually, Luna’s expression eased into one of regret. She removed her hooves one at a time, staring wordlessly at the deep indentations she had left into the solid oak. Her expression was inscrutable, but she averted her face and muttered, “I … apologise, sister. I did not mean to do that.”
“It’s all right, Luna,” Celestia said softly. “And it’s all right to be upset, too.”
“When I get upset, bad things tend to happen.”
Celestia allowed herself a tiny frown. “So you intend to bottle up your true emotions and wear a mask for the rest of your life on the off chance that you turn into Nightmare Moon again? Is that it?”
“No.” Luna scowled at a nearby drape; a gift from the mayor of Glascow that they left up only because to take it down would be improper. “I was being somewhat facetious. Rainbow Dash informed me that in times of personal crisis, it is best to make some form of humorous quip to break the tension.”
Celestia raised an eyebrow. “That was a humorous quip?”
“Is self-deprecation not a form of humour?” Luna glowered at the drape as if its ugliness offended her. “I will never get the hang of modern customs.”
“Get the hang of? You seem to be fine with modern vernacular, at least.”
Luna turned to blink at her. Slowly, a smile graced her lips. It was a small, sickly thing, but it was better than nothing. It wavered after a few moments, however. “I … am scared, Tia. I thought that if … if we were able to wake him … to break him, from his crystal prison … that he … that everything would be … would b-be…”
“I know, Luna.” Celestia rose and trotted around the table to pull her into a hug. “It isn’t fair.”
“In the words of the populace, it s-sucks.”
Celestia rested her head against her sister’s. “We will find a way, Lu-Lu,” she murmured, letting the names from their long-ago foalhood bounce off each other, hoping they would reverberate comfort into her little sister’s poor battered soul. “Give him time and give him love. That’s all you can do for now. The rest is up to him and time.”
“I will.” Luna buried her face in Celestia’s limply wafting mane. “I will.”
“Roll up, roll up! Knock a coconut off its stand and win a prize! You, good sir! Would you like to win a plush toy for this lovely lucky lady you’re with?” The brown stallion in the pinstripe waistcoat bore a disturbing resemblance to Flim and Flam, Twilight noted with distaste. She hadn’t liked them out of loyalty to Applejack and her family, but her recent jaunt into a universe where their moneygrubbing destroyed Ponyville had left her with an even worse taste in her mouth. If she ever saw either brother again, it would be too soon.
The stallion running the Coconut Shy pushed a small beanbag into Caramel’s hesitant hoof.
“Um…” Caramel was clearly more flustered than his date. Sassasflash giggled behind a raised foreleg, though whether at his discomfort or being called ‘lovely’, Twilight couldn’t be sure. “Sure,” Caramel gulped.
He stepped up and hurled the beanbag at the long poles topped with coconuts lined against the far end of the stall. It flopped harmlessly two feet in front of him. His face flamed.
“Best two outta three?” offered the pinstriped stallion.
“Y-yes!”
He held out a trio of beanbags and his other, empty hoof. “Only the first throw is free, sunshine. That’ll be a bit.”
Caramel fumbled in his saddlebag for a coin. His next two throws were equally ineffective. By this time, a couple of other ponies had gathered to watch. They all snickered at his failures.
“Now that’s just cruel,” said a voice in Twilight’s ear.
She turned. “Rarity!”
“You wandered off while I was choosing my prize, darling.” A beautifully decorated lemon meringue pie hovered next to her, its yellow colouring dimmed slightly by the darker aura of her magic. Rarity continued to frown at the display Twilight had been watching. “This is akin to bullying.” Her frown deepened. “I simply detest bullies.”
Caramel prepared for his final throw. A muscles in his jaw twitched. He drew back his foreleg and hurled the last beanbag. It travelled further than the others, but still flopped far short of the actual coconuts. Behind him, the collection of watchers hooted and applauded with anything but sincerity.
“Aren’t you an earth pony? I thought earth ponies were meant to be stronger than unicorns or pegasi!”
“Ol’ Caramel always was one for bucking trends.”
“That’s the only thing he can buck properly! Have you ever seen him try to buck apples? It’s priceless!”
Any other stallion might have rounded on them and yelled, or else gone with the joke and laughed too, but Caramel simply averted his gaze and tried to escape. Sassaflash turned blazing eyes on the group.
“You cretins made him miss!”
“Sure we did.” Thunderlane rolled his eyes. “Couldn’t possibly be because his throwing hoof sucks.”
“Impossible,” agreed Lucky.
“Totally.” Berry Punch rubbed at her nose in what might have been a nervous tick. “Show ‘em how it’s done, Luckster.”
“Don’t call me that,” Lucky protested. Still, he stepped forward and opened his mouth, clearly about to ask the pinstriped pony for a turn, when he was interrupted by an all too familiar voice.
“Verily, what is going on over here?”
Twilight’s blood froze. She had rather hoped she would be able to go the whole rest of the fete without running into Princess Luna. Instead there she was, trotting cheerfully out of the crowd towards the little group that had gathered. Luna looked over her shoulder and a moment later the tallest stallion Twilight had ever seen appeared too.
He was taller than Big Macintosh by far. Twilight knew from seeing them together that even Princess Celestia had no reason to look down if she wanted to meet his mismatching eyes. Given that no other pony in all of Equestria could boast these things, it made encountering him more than a little unnerving, even for an alicorn like herself. On the few occasions she had actually spoken to him, she had come away with the feeling of a flea under a microscope, pinned to an invisible slide by his gaze and reticence.
“Oh, what fun!” Princess Luna’s hooves made tiny metal clinks as she clapped them together in delight. “The object is to knock down the coconuts with the … what are these called?”
“Beanbags,” Twilight squeaked.
“I assume the object is physical prowess, not magical aptitude,” said the tall stallion. His voice was soft as a velveteen shadow. Despite herself, all the hairs along Twilight’s back stood straight.
“Uh … if you mean you can’t use no unicorn magic, then sure,” said the pinstriped stallion.
“Hmm.” The tall stallion blinked languidly. “Would you like a turn, my princess?”
Luna seemed to flinch a little at his words. Only a pony who had known her as long as Twilight would have noticed. Long days and nights in Canterlot learning how to be a princess had put herself and the ruler of the night in the same room a lot. Luna’s smile returned instantly, but the flinch had definitely been there. Twilight frowned, not understanding. She hated it when she didn’t understand things.
“Indeed I would!” Luna boomed. She trotted forward and held out an imperious hoof. The pinstriped pony placed a beanbag into it, hesitating only slightly. Luna took aim and threw the beanbag. It knocked lightly against one of the poles, causing the coconut atop it wobble but not fall off. “This is much harder than it looks!” she said, apparently with delight. “Again!”
“Uh … that’ll be … one bit … your majesty,” the pinstriped stallion gulped.
Rather than Luna giving him the coin, the tall stallion stepped up beside her and delicately placed it in the stallholder’s hoof. He had apparently already readied it and nodded as he back away again to stand behind Luna.
“Will you not stand beside me, Mystic?” she asked suddenly.
“I would be in the way, my princess,” he replied quietly. “You need room to draw back your hoof.”
There was that flinch again. Twilight stared hard at Luna’s face as she aimed and threw all the three beanbags in such quick succession that the pole bearing the wobbly coconut had given up its prize while the third was still in the air.
“A winner!” the pinstriped stallion announced, dashing out to fetch the coconut. He presented it to Luna with a brief bow. “Congratulations, your majesty!”
Luna accepted it and stared at her prize. “Hm. What to do with this, I wonder?”
“Applejack could probably put it into some sort of pie,” Rarity opined with a slight eye-roll. “Alongside her apples, of course. Can’t have any sort of pie without apples .”
“Then I shall award this coconut to friend Applejack!” Luna declared. “Mystic, will you not take a turn and see if you might also win a prize for her? I have tasted her pies and will vouch that they are delicious. Coconuts will surely only add to their flavour.”
“As you wish,” Mystic said softly. He stepped forward, paid the stallholder and prepared to make his own throw.
“I think you are leaning a little too far to–” Luna started.
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
CHAK! CHAK! CHAK!
Three poles barely moved as their coconuts were knocked off by three perfect hits.
“Uh, um…” The pinstriped pony gawped for a second before gathering himself. “Uh, a winner, everypony! And what a winner he is! Three for three by hoof alone!”
Mystic took the coconuts from him and brought them to Twilight and Rarity. “Do you think these will be enough for your friend’s needs?”
“Uh…” Rarity stared.
Mystic continued to stare implacably.
“Thank you.” Twilight accepted all three into her aura. “Mystic.” The name prised off her tongue like her saliva her turned to glue. Stop that. You’re being rude and … and overreacting! He’s harmless and nice and normal, normal, so normal, nothing abnormal about him. Nope. Nothing at all.
“Catch, Twilight!”
“Huh?”
A coconut clonked her in the head. Twilight folded like a bad hand in cards. One moment the sky and grass were where they should be, the next they had reversed.
“Oh dear! Twilight!” Rarity cried out.
“I told her to catch it!” Luna sounded more anxious than annoyed.
Twilight’s ears rang. Had that been a coconut or a piece of concrete? A shrinking circle of darkness signaled it had been somewhere in between.
“Make room!” somepony shouted. No longer soft, Mystic boomed with the Royal Canterlot Voice. “Do not crowd around her so!”
The circle closed.
Twilight passed out.
The whole castle seemed to shudder.
“Where is she!?”
Twilight slewed to a stop in front of the door. She tugged on the giant ring that comprised its handle with her magic but fell against it instead when the corridor shuddered again. Pushing down the thought that she might just have cracked a rib on the elaborate thing, she redoubled her efforts and yanked open the door.
She immediately wished she hadn’t.
“Whoa!”
She only just ducked in time as a blast of magical fire erupted from within.
“Tell me where she is!”
“Mystic! Calm down!” Cadence’s voice emanated from somewhere in the room.
“I don’t even know you! Who are you? Where is my princess?”
There was another blast of blue fire. Cadence let out a shriek. Twilight scrambled to her hooves and dashed inside.
“Cadence!”
She was on the floor, encased in a bubble of her own aura – clearly her own version of her husband’s shield spell. One of her wings was singed black. She looked up at Twilight’s cry. “Twilight, no! Stay back! He’s not in his right mi–”
“Another untrue alicorn?” The tall stallion standing over Cadence whirled, his extraordinarily long horn glowing with azure fire that lit the room, revealing the unconscious guards on the floor. “From whence do you falsehoods arise?”
“What?” Twilight did not understand.
She ducked and rolled when he aimed a third blast at her, coming up to the left of the door and spreading her wings. Long hours under Rainbow’s tutelage gave her the manoeuvrability to circle the chandelier, telekinetically wrench it free and upend it over the stallion like a cage. Her raw alicorn power allowed her to drive the candlestick prongs deep into the marble floor, forcing him to his knees.
“Usurpers!” he gritted. His horn glowed brighter. Twilight felt his magic push back against hers. It was stronger than expected. She poured more magic into her telekinesis. “Where are the true princesses? This is their castle! What have you done with them?”
“Do you – ngg – mean Princess Celestia and Princess Luna?” Twilight shouted above the throb of their warring spells.
“Yes! Where are they? Where!” His whole body pulsed blue. “Is!” Twilight frantically shoved more magic into her hold but the chandelier let out a resounding crack. “My!” It flew apart in a shower of molten metal. “Princess!?”
Twilight yelped at the touch of hot metal. Her face and left forehoof stung. She hadn’t been quick enough to throw up a shield.
“Twilight! Aahhh!”
A bookcase slammed into the stallion, followed by the bed and the nightstand. In seconds he was covered in furniture in an attempt to hold him down.
“Go!” Cadence panted, her belly swinging beneath her as she struggled to her hooves. Her voice shook with pain. “Get –”
The furniture pile exploded.
“I will not stand for this betrayal!”
Twilight landed in front of Cadence, shielding them both. The broken furniture hammered down on them, then lifted to hammer down again. Cadence sat back on her haunches, breathing shallowly. Twilight chanced a glance behind her, hoping against hope it was just from exertion and nothing to do with the baby. It was still too early for a healthy foal to be delivered. If anything were to happen to –
“Usurpers!”
The stallion unleashed a primal flare of magic on Twilight’s shield. It was unshaped and unfettered, slamming her defences once, twice, three times. It felt like being up against Tirek all over again, though that was ridiculous. He was just one unicorn. Nonetheless, she felt his onslaught begin to take its toll. Her shield bowed inwards. She brought it in closer, so as not to spread her aura too thin, but it made no difference.
“False alicorns!” the stallion screamed, wild-eyed. “Did you murder them? What did you do to my-?”
“Get away from them!” shouted a voice from the doorway.
Twilight had been hoping for Princess Celestia or Luna. Their magical strength would have been a welcome back-up
Unfortunately, that was not who had arrived.
“Shining, stay back!” Twilight’s voice was muffled by her tightened shield spell but she knew from his flicking ears that he had heard her.
“I won’t let you touch my wife or my baby sister!” Shining Armour snarled, head lowered like he was going to ram the taller stallion. “If you’ve hurt them, I don’t care who you are or what you mean to Princess Luna, I will end you!”
“Shining … no …” Cadence panted. “Get … Auntie …”
“Bold words for one who would support false impressions of their true majesties,” the tall stallion boomed. His mane fluffed as he sent a wave of sparkling blue energy straight at Shining Armour.
“No!” Twilight and Cadence shrieked as one.
The energy hit Shining Armour’s formidable shield and dissipated like a bucket of water thrown at a wall. He galloped forward, using his shield like a battering ram to turn aside the attacks thrown at him. The taller stallion swept his horn up, the trailing plume of blue hardening into a shield of his own. The clang that resounded from the two shields meeting left Twilight’s ears ringing.
Panic clenched her stomach into a knot. If she and Cadence combined had struggled to combat the stallion, her brother stood no chance. Like all ponies in the Sparkle family, Shining Armour was magically gifted, but he was still just a unicorn.
Shield crashed against shield again, throwing off blue and pink sparks. A thin strip of light blazed to life above them, reshaping itself into a sword of pure magical energy. The pink blade arched down, forcing the tall stallion to leap aside or be skewered. He kept leaping backwards for a few moments, until he reared up and a blade-topped pike snaked into being beside him. The skirmish flung the two ponies around the room, cleaving through what was left of the furniture and leaving scorch marks on the walls, floor and ceiling.
Shining Armour yelled. A spray of red hit the air.
“Shining!” Twilight screamed.
He fell back, his flank bleeding. The pike had bisected his cutie mark. Shining Armour redoubled his efforts, driving the taller stallion back to the wall and pinning him down until such a rapid hail of blows that his sword was little more than a glittery blur.
Shadowy figures clamoured at the door as guards piled into the room, only to pull back at the sight of their former captain apparently attacking the mysterious stranger he had brought here from his own empire.
Twilight touched Cadence’s shoulder and teleported them both to the corridor outside the room. “Hurry! Make sure she’s safe!” she yelled at a unicorn guard bearing the Night Guard insignia. Then she ‘ported back inside, arriving in mid-air with a copycat version of her brother’s shield and sword. “Shining!”
Too late, she realised her own stupidity. Shining Armour glanced up at her cry. It was only for a fraction of a second, but it was enough.
“Raaaagh!”
The tall stallion pulled the energy of his shield and pike inwards. It flared white hot, then detonated out in a pulse of magic so bright and strong, Twilight was blinded as she was thrown back against the far wall. She heard dozens of voices cry out but could concentrate on nothing but the pain of her now almost certainly broken ribs. She fell to the floor with a groan and lay there, her whole body vibrating inside and out, unable to move. Knowing to just lay there was a bad idea, she made the monumental effort of prising her eyes open.
“Shi … ning …”
Somepony turned her onto her back. She felt something sharp against her throat.
“Where is my princess?” the tall stallion growled hoarsely. “What have you done with her, you -?”
“Mystic! Stand down at once!”
The Royal Canterlot Voice rang through the wrecked chamber. The point of the stallion’s horn jerked against Twilight’s throat as if in surprise.
“My p-princess?”
“What in the name of Harmony are you doing!?” Princess Luna demanded. “Take your horn from my friend’s neck! You are not some common brawler!”
Twilight heard his hooves stagger back as if he had been struck, though she heard no impact of hoof against flesh. “M-my princess … I thought …”
“I can guess from your enraged, misguided and wholly ridiculous rantings what you thought!” Luna said fiercely. Her beating wings set her down by twilight’s side. “Step away from her. Now!”
He did so and Twilight felt the cold press of silver shoes slip under her.
“Twilight, are you injured?”
“My … ribs …”
Soft magic bathed her chest. “They are broken. We must take you to the castle physicians at once. You there! Guard! Transport Princess Twilight to Doctor Boneheart with all haste!”
“Princess Twilight?” the tall stallion said in such a broken, childlike tone of confusion that Twilight could barely believe he was the same pony who had been snarling at her mere minutes ago.
“Mystic … you have been asleep for a … a very long time,” Luna said, her own volume dropping to a less deafening decibel. “Things have … changed somewhat.”
“You’re alive,” he said in that same broken tone.
Twilight was lifted away in some pony else’s aura, but she had ears and eyes only for her attacker and the Night Princess.
“I thought Sombra … I thought maybe he had …”
“He did not. Not to me. But … very nearly to you.”
“To me?”
Luna sighed and bowed her head. “We have much to talk about. I had wished that I would be reunited with you under much different circumstances than these.” She paused. “Much different.”
Twilight passed beyond the ruined doors and out of earshot.
Twilight awoke to the tan fabric of the medical tent roof. She was on her back, which she had always hated since getting her wings. Immediately she rolled onto her side, which brought her nearly nose-to-nose with Nurse Redheart.
“Oh!”
“Hey there,” Redheart smiled. “Morning, sleepyhead.”
“Huh?” Twilight tried to sit up. “Ow!”
“You have quite the nasty bump. Wait right there.”
Redheart quickly crossed the tent to a small portable freezer, from which she extracted a tray of ice-cubes. With a deftness that bespoke long practise, she upended these into an icebag and screwed on the lid. This she brought over to the cot and pressed against Twilight’s head. The relief was icy but blissful.
“You have a concussion,” Redheart informed her. “Nothing too serious, though you have been unconscious for the last few minutes. Good thing for you that unicorn fellow teleported you right into this tent, since you were on the whole other wise of the meadow.”
“Mystic … teleported me?” Twilight pressed held the icebag closer.
“Is that his name?” Redheart grabbed a clipboard and jotted something down by hoof, her pencil scribbling so fast that Twilight couldn’t be sure her vision wasn’t still blurry. “Tall chap with white mane and tail? Different coloured eyes? Rather nice posterior?”
Twilight coughed violently.
“What? I can admire a nice rump.” Redheart smiled wolfishly and tore off some paper. “Here.”
“What’s this?”
“You give it to your handler.”
“My what?”
“The pony whose care I’m going to release you into. These are instructions for what you are and aren’t allowed to do for the rest of the day because of your concussion. The first one is ‘be alone’.”
“Oh.” Twilight frowned. “You know, I’ve read several different medical texbooks that say –”
“Twi!” A blur of orange pushed open the tent flaps and hurried inside. “Are you all right? The whole fete is buzzin’ that you got hurt!”
“What?” Twilight jerked her head up and immediately regretted it. “Ow…”
“What happened, sugarcube?” Applejack’s gaze was soft with concern.
“Princess Luna gave me a coconut.”
“Huh?”
“Ugh … never mind. It was an accident. Applejack, will you please be my handler?”
“Your what ?”
“Otherwise I’m not allowed to leave this tent.”
“Who’s stoppin’ you?”
“Hi there.” Redheart stuck out a hoof.
One explanation later and Twilight was leaning against Applejack as they exited the tent.
“Thanks.”
“No problem, Twi, but are you sure you should be up an’ movin’ around so soon after a head injury?”
“I’ll be fine. No slurred speech, no loss of power in any part of my body, no difficulties understanding what anypony is saying, no drowsiness, and the headache is because I have a bump the size of a duck egg on the side of my skull.”
“Yowch.”
“The ice pack helps. Luckily I know a freezing spell so I can keep refreezing the bag and stop them from melting in this warm weather.”
“Hmmm.” The rumble in Applejack’s throat indicated she was not wholly placated by this. Any further protest she might have made, however, was interrupted by a shadow falling across them and a large pony stepping into their path.
“Twilight Sparkle.”
Twilight froze instinctively. She loosened her muscles with effort but her smile was as watery as the ice cubes next to her temple. “Mystic …”
“Are you all right?” he asked, what seemed like actual distress in his tone.
“I’m fine,” she said, only a little stiffly. “Mostly.”
“I’m her handler for the rest of the day,” Applejack added. “I had to sign a release form an’ everythin’.”
“I was waiting to check upon your health,” Mystic told them. “Nurse Redheart was to inform me when awoke, but it would seem you have, ah, beaten me to the punch, Miss Applejack.” He blinked. “I believe that is the correct vernacular, yes?”
“Eyup.”
Realisation that Mystic could have been her handler for the day flashed through Twilight. She found herself wrapping her supporting wing tighter around Applejack, provoking a sidelong look that totally bypassed her determinedly forward gaze.
“Well, I’m fine!” she warbled like a songbird trying to reach a particularly difficult high note. “All fine! So you can just go back to Princess Luna now because I’m totally, completely and absolutely fine! Ah … actually, where is Princess Luna?”
“She was embarrassed that she had caused you injury. I believe friend Rarity is comforting her and assuring her that it was an accident.”
“Oh.” Twilight frowned. “I’d better go show her I’m okay, then.”
“I can teleport –”
“No thanks!” She coughed into her hoof. “I mean … I’d rather walk, thanks.”
“Very well. I will escort you.”
“O-oh.” There was no way to say no – not without causing some kind of social ruckus, and Twilight had promised Luna she would try today. She had promised to try her best, despite everything that had happened. Twilight closed her eyes, pushing aside the memory of Mystic’s horntip at her throat. “All right then. Let’s get going.”
“He is safe!”
“He nearly killed Twilight and Cadence! He is dangerous!”
“And what would you have me do, sister? Banish him to the moon?”
Celestia reeled back. “That is a low blow, Luna.”
Luna’s stricken expression told her that she thought so too. She dropped her head. “The question remains a pertinent one, Celestia. What would you have me do? He recovered his memories and I was not around. His last thoughts before he was frozen in crystal were of me and the encounter with Sombra. He was my bodyguard. He … panicked.” Her voice had become so soft by the end of her explanation that it was unclear whether she even believed it herself. “He was worried about me.”
“And his solution was to attack anypony who came near him and destroy as much of the castle as his magic could reach. That is not the Mystic I remember.” Celestia stepped closer to Luna and placed a gentle hoof on her shoulder. “Cadence is pregnant, Luna. Visibly so. He cannot have failed to notice that. And yet –”
“Yet he attacked her. I know,” Luna replied brokenly. “I know…”
Mystic was now with the castle physicians, being checked over after the fight. Cadence and Twilight were in the medical wing, each recovering well but shaken up by the experience. Twilight, in particular, worried Celestia. Some of it was the eternal soft spot she held for her faithful student but most originated from the way Twilight’s gaze had kept flicking around the room as she spoke to her former teacher, as if she was constantly worried somepony was about to knock down the door or wall. For a pony who had once taken on Tirek alone, the behaviour was worrisome.
“You need to talk to Twilight.”
For a moment Luna seemed to bristle. Celestia wondered if she was going to accuse her of caring more for her former student than her own flesh and blood. Then Luna’s shoulders lowered and the moment passed.
“I will.”
“Good. Mystic frightened her very badly.”
“Twilight Sparkle is a very resilient pony.”
“Be that as it may, you are not going to send Mystic away. You will want to keep him close because you know who he was and who you want him to be again. She does not. Before, she has faced opponents who tried to kill her by defeating them and moving on. Getting over a bad experience is helped immeasurably by having closure on the matter. But Mystic will be in her life if you choose to keep him in yours.”
“Which I do,” Luna replied sharply.
Celestia nodded. “This whole situation is going to take work, Luna. I hope you understand how much.”
“I do.”
Celestia held in her last ‘I hope so’. Instead, she pulled Luna in for a hug with both wings and forelegs. “The heart wants what the heart wants, Luna, but remember that there are others who care for you also and they need to be considered too.”
“I understand, sister.” Luna returned the hug before pulling away. “I need to go and see him now.”
Celestia watched her sister depart, alabaster face showing only a fraction of what she was thinking.
“Twilight!” Rarity descended on her on a cloud of perfume and tightly clasped forelegs. “Darling, I was so worried about you! Oh, are you all right? You look positively peaky !”
“I’m fine. Ow!”
Rarity drew back in alarm. Twilight winced, moving her ice-pack back into place.
“Mostly.”
Rarity’s beautiful face crumpled into an expression of total and absolute woe. Nopony could do emotional outbursts like she could. “Oh, darling !” she wailed. “You must come and sit down immediately !”
“Rarity! Seriously, I’m fine. Applejack is a pretty good calliper.”
Applejack blinked. “Huh?”
“A crutch, darling,” Rarity supplied.
“Oh.” She blinked again. “Should I be insulted at that?”
Mystic waylaid the question by trotting past them. Princess Luna still sat that the small wrought iron table outside the café tent. She and Rarity had picked a peripheral spot and it was clear from the two cups on the table that the fashionista had taken the rather Trottingham-esque approach of ‘tea makes everything better’. Luna stared at her cup, a faint blush colouring her cheeks.
“My princess,” Mystic said softly. “Friend Twilight has returned.”
“I can see that, Mystic,” she replied, equally soft but with something like a snap in her voice, as though during their absence a light frost had settled over her vocal chords.
“I’m fine,” Twilight called. “No permanent damage.”
Luna’s gaze slid barely sideways, teetering on the rim of her cup. “That is … good.”
Her answer was not as pleased as Twilight might have expected. She frowned and trotted forward, Applejack keeping pace beside her as though she had spent years matching their hoof-falls.
“Princess Luna? Are you okay?” Twilight asked.
“I am fine,” Luna retorted. “Why would I not be fine?” She swallowed visibly. “It is good that you are … not permanently damaged, Twilight.”
Behind them, Twilight heard Rarity reach Mystic and whisper, “This is the most she’s said since you left, poor dear.”
“Hmm.” His response remained deep in his throat and Twilight didn’t know him well enough to interpret the noise as good or bad.
“Princess Luna, what’s wrong?” Twilight tried again.
“Wrong?” Luna’s eyes finally flashed up at her. She saw them take in the ice-pack, Applejack’s braced form and Twilight’s extended wing spread over the earth pony’s back. They seemed to widen briefly and then narrowed almost to slits. “Why would anything be wrong? This day has been just … perfect !” She spat out the last word like it burned her tongue.
Twilight arched her neck instinctively, pulling her head away from the angry alicorn. “Princess L-”
Luna slammed both forehooves down on the table-top. “Just … perfect!” she boomed, the Royal Canterlot Voice seeping into her tone and upsetting both teacups. Warm liquid spattered over her silver horseshoes and dribbled into her lap but she barely seemed to notice. Instead, her horn glowed and she vanished in a blaze of light.
“What the hoo-haa –” Applejack started.
“She teleported,” Twilight gasped. “Why … where …? I don’t understand.”
As with so many crises in her life, Twilight wished Princess Celestia was here. Though she had long since learned that her mentor was not infallible, and that she did not always have all the answers to every problem, Twilight had spent too much of her youth looking up and knowing the comforting presence of Celestia would keep her safe no matter what. Logic collided with childhood certainty and they fell together in a tangled, contradictory heap in her head.
Yet the burst of light that followed her thoughts did not come from the arrival of a tall white princess. It came from behind her, and when she turned her head, it was to see Rarity blinking spots from her eyes.
You’re supposed to warn somepony if you plan to teleport that close to them, Twilight thought distantly. Her closer thoughts redirected themselves into more pressing matters. Mystic teleported too?
“What is going on here?”
Unfortunately, neither of her friends had an answer for her.
