Under an Emerald Sky

Chapters

Better Left Buried
Educated Speculation
Into the Woods
That Familiar Feeling
Together Again

Better Left Buried

The two ponies stood diagonally from the other, one holding a precise brushing tool in its mouth and gently swiping away a thick coating of dirt across the cracked stone pillar. The other, a unicorn, levitated a small carving pallet around the construct's edges, scraping off crusted moss that had formed over centuries of idle placement.

"This material is tougher than I thought it would be," the male, turquoise unicorn remarked with a slight strain of effort on its horn. "I was hoping the growths would've been a bit more malleable."

The earth pony, a grey colt, continued its scrubbing of the pillar's outer surface as it responded, not taking its mind off the surprisingly laborious task. "The lack of rain makes it lot more hardy, especially around here. The forest canopy's great at blocking any moisture from getting to the ground."

The unicorn stopped scrapping for a moment and looked up at the high-topped oaks around him, and the shield of green leaves that formed up in an almost uniform curtain. Large rays of sunlight still penetrated through the overlay, but a direct light was nowhere to be found.

He wiped away a trickle of sweat from along his brow. "The shade's still nice. I bet this place is beautiful in the winter. You know I haven't even been using my tent since the entire team got here? There's not all that many bugs around so you can actually sleep right in the open air. It's incredible."

"Is that so?" the earth pony said as it continued brushing, still not detracting its attention.

"Yeah. You should really try it some time. Totally beats the smell of musty tent canvas over your head." The unicorn paused for a moment and noticed that his companion hadn't ceased for a moment in his job. He looked puzzled at this and expressed the sentiment to his friend.

"Silver Cloud, don't you wanna take a break? We've been going at this for well over an hour."

Silver Cloud shook his head. "I think I'll pass, Quills. I'm not tired yet."

Quills paused and looked down at the white bricked support leg that rose just past three feet into the air. "I doubt the remnants of an old aqueduct pillar are going anywhere."

"I think this one's more submerged than the others ones in the dig site," Silver Cloud remarked while still brushing at his steady pace. "Call it hunch but I think this one might just be where the epicenter was."

Quills grinned. "What, can you sense that from the dirt? Last time I checked you weren't a unicorn."

"Then maybe it's earth pony intuition. Dirt is our specialty after all."

Quills laughed and set down his scrapper, resting his body casually against the adjacent side of the pillar his friend wasn't facing. Sighing, he looked back up at the gleaming green patchwork above. "So what's your thoughts on the trip so far? You think it was worth selling out a whole week of class?"

"For the credit hours we're getting? Totally. We can make up whatever we missed when we get back to the University. But no way could you make up for missing a trip like this."

"Or being around the professors for 24/7."

Silver Cloud grinned as he scrubbed. "I'll admit the History Department does have a few...special kinds of ponies working for it. But they're not all bad. Sure, Professor Ards does like to wear that helm of his whenever he gets the chance, and Professor Dorian loves speaking in Old Equestrian but I think it's still kind of fun to be with them."

"Yeah," Quills said with a roll of his eyes, "especially when we're the only other students here. It's like being a frosh all over again."

"What about Professor Neuro's assistant? Isn't he a student?"

Quills grimaced at the very thought of stone-cold Professor Neuro Parapraxis and his assistant. He'd rather not think about the two if he didn't have to, but the conversation always did favor swaying the way he'd prefer it not to.

Groaning loudly, he stamped his hoof in mild frustration. "Oh, don't get me started on those two. If I'd known that dynamic duo was coming along for the ride I would have opted out the first chance I got. But of course, no one took the liberty in telling everyone else, so it all turned out as a fantastic little surprise the day we left. You know, it's especially that assistant of his that bothers me sometimes, and not just--"

"Quills," Silver Cloud interrupted cordially, "not that I'm not riveted by what you're saying but would you care to come over here a moment. I need your opinion on something."

"On what?"

Silver Cloud, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, rose from his stooped position and gestured downwards at the pillar's edge he'd been brushing. It was through his efforts that a significant portion of the outer dirt had been swept away, creating a rigid indentation against the object's side. And inside that fairly shallow indentation, was a strange object of some sort.

Quills blinked in bewilderment at just what was lying before him. The composition was stone, a smooth variant that almost resembled a dull silver. It appeared circular, or at least, it had been. The object appeared to have been cracked off from something larger. What lied in the dirt was a jagged slice, unharmed across its top but jagged along its edges. The surface was entirely barren of markings or indentations hinting to earlier Equestrian civilization, giving the stone slice a quite alien look to it.

"Do you have an idea of what it is?" he asked with his eyes transfixed on the ground below him.

Silver Cloud shrugged. "You tell me. You're the Archaeology major; I'm the Quadropologist."

"They're not that different from each other."

"But different enough that I've never seen anything like this in any of the textbooks or lectures. Now, is there anything that you can tell from this?"

"Let's see," Quills said as he lowered himself to the object's level, his eyes combing over whatever details he could decipher from the artifact stone that was no larger than his hoof. "It appears fairly recent by the looks of it. There're no major marks of damage from being buried here for an extended period of time, and the fact that it's so close to the surface further hints that it's new here."

"Can you tell how long it's been there?"

Quills spread his hooves in dismissal. "Cloud, what you've seen here is about my entire college education to this point. We'd have to ask a professor about anything past that."

His friend nodded. "Then I think we should do that. They're gonna want to see this."

Educated Speculation

"This is extraordinary!" Professor Amphora remarked while gazing upon the strange gray stone slice that sat upon a small pedestal in the expedition's main tent.

"It's marvelous!" Professor Ards concurred as he lifted the metal helm visor up with his hoof for the other professors to hear him.

"Thou am impressed with its alor!" Professor Dorian bellowed out in Old Equestrian.

A small crowd of nearly all the professors along for the Emerald Forest Archeological Expedition gawked over the strange artifact that had been found just hours earlier. A small desk sat in the humbly sized tent's rear and was being flooded with more and more enthusiastic scholars who wanted to take a gander at the mysterious object resting atop it.

The older ponies talked in glowing enthusiasm over just what the object was, throwing around theories and inferences almost as fast as the pony standing next to them. So far, nobody had quite been able to pin down a concrete theory on just what it belonged to and what period it came from.

It bore no markings, no extraneous details, and no marking on just what it belonged to. It was a smooth to the touch and as uniform as a piece of space age technology, and yet was gruffly cracked along the edges. It was a quite plain, almost rock-like hue, and yet after just light dusting it looked not even a day old. And it was with the mounting mystery that the bespectacled, elderly, and eccentric ponies from the History Department at the University of Canterlot became more and more excited at the challenge.

A new arrival then entered the tent. A slightly aged, orange stallion with glasses perched primly atop its snout with calculating eyes that regarded nearly every scenario with heightened efficiency. It took in the scope of the scene for a brief moment, inspecting the controlled chaos of his colleagues with a touch of humor and a dash of concern for order. Despite the group's lovely enthusiasm, order still needed to be maintained.

"Alright, alright, settle down!" he shouted while waving his hooves to get the group's collective attention. "Now, just what the heck is going on here?"

"Something extraordinary was found!" a teal mare stated giddily.

"It's amazing!" a beige colt added.

"Tis worthy of the heavens!" Professor Dorian bellowed once again.

"Let me see it, let me see it," the orange stallion ordered in slight annoyance as he waded through the crowd. "I'd like to get a gander at just what's getting you all so jumpy."

Reluctantly, the crowded parted as he approached the desk, his desk, which was now being substituted as a small stage. At first glance, he immediately noticed the arced holder that propped whatever the object was at a vertical angle, almost resembling a lightning bolt shooting directly downwards. At was also at first glance that he knew he'd never seen something of the sort in his entire life.

Through all the fields of study he'd practiced in, all the different degrees he held, everything from Psychology to Geology, the minuscule piece of stone on his desk was something of the absolute obscurity. It looked ancient and modern, rugged and pristine, simplistic and advanced. Although he hated to admit, especially in the presence of others, he hadn't the slightest idea of what he was looking at.

So instead of declaring this, he posed a question. "Which of you found this...thing? I'd like to know just who and how somepony stumbled across something like this."

There was a pause in the tent, all the professors waiting for one of their own to step forward. But no one did, and the group began looking around anxiously for just who deserved the recognition for the amazing find. Finally, without anyone coming forward, a voice in the back answered.

"It was the two students, Neuro. Those two youngsters from the University."

There was a collective gasp from the group gathered, followed by all eyes focusing on the orange stallion standing by the desk, looking mildly surprised but still holding his composure.

"Well, bring them here then," Professor Neuro Parapraxis ordered with a wave of his hooves. "And please would the rest of you leave for the time being? I wish to speak with these two students alone."

A collective grumble went through the crowd as they reluctantly filed out of the tent. When the last one exited, Neuro took a seat behind his desk. He steepled his hooves together on the desk's surface in patient waiting for the two ponies who were no doubt on their way while occasionally sneaking a glance at the piece of stone.

There was something to it that caught his attention; that seemed to catch everypony's attention for that matter. On the outside, it didn't appear all that interesting but there was something beyond that just screamed the opposite. He couldn't quite put his hoof on what that might be but perhaps if he just felt it for a moment it may just--

The two students suddenly entered the tent, causing Neuro to reel away from the stone in surprise and back into his collected self.

The two students were colts. One was a teal unicorn while the other was a silver earth pony. Although they both looked equal in age, the earth pony had a much more mature, almost steely disposition in comparison to his companion. The companion looked much more...inexperienced. He clearly was trying to hide an edge of nervousness and had a blank to his eyes that lacked concentration.

"Hello boys," he greeted with the best introductory smile he could muster. "I understand that you were the ones who found," he gestured to the slice of stone, "this while on the job. Care to explain the details?"

The earth pony nodded. "Yes, Professor. We were performing a routine marking and excavation of one of the aqueduct pillars about a mile away from camp. It was in the ground just beside the pillar that silver stone piece was recovered. I was the one who carried the object back while my colleague here brought our supplies along with us."

"And is there anything else of note you found."

"Not a thing, Professor."

"Then I won't use anymore of your time. You may see yourself out."

The pony bowed his head. "Thank you, Professor."

The two turned to leave. Neuro quickly called back to them.

"Hold on! I only said one of you could leave. You," he pointed to the unicorn, "stay here a moment. I need you to run a brief errand for me."

"B-But," the unicorn stammered as looked back to his friend, who merely shrugged and gestured with his head to Neuro. He brushed past the tent flap and back outside, leaving the two alone.

The pony was trying very hard not to quiver in place. He avoided Neuro's gaze by looking around the room in mock interest, wringing his hooves together in a clear sense of anxious anticipation. Normally, he would've been taken back by the slight rudeness the young colt was emulating, but he had to remind himself that some students always felt that way around professors no matter how hard you tried to be welcoming. Neuro was sure he was always welcoming with new ponies, especially students. Or at least, he thought he was anyway.

"What's your name...son?" Neuro added the last modifier for a sense of belated cordialness, granted, with a slight awkward articulation.

"Q-Quill Scratch, but most ponies just call me Quills, um, Professor."

Neuro gave him a nod. "Well, 'Quills,' it's come to my attention that the camp is running a bit low on sealant containers for the samples we recover. I need a strong, strapping young fellow to go and get some from the cart we brought along with us just a few miles off by the main road. Would you care to be that strong, strapping young fellow?"

As if you have a choice he thought to himself.

The unicorn bobbed his head. "S-Sure, I mean, yes, Professor. I can do that."

Neuro internally sighed in relief. He was ever grateful that the colt hadn't asked the question of 'why are you asking me?' Then he would've had to concoct some elaborate explanation of why he was the just the right pony for the job and that nopony else was available for such a laborious task.

In truth, it was because he had to choose either him or his companion who located the artifact. Rewarding a student's achievements was the best gift an educator could give and the promise that bright gray colt, Silver Cloud, was practically tangible. But Quills on the other hoof...not so much. Neuro prized results overall and so far the student before him showed a disposition of the exact opposite. He wasn't trying to be mean; that was just how it was. He could tell.

"Good," he continued. "And I'd also like you to bring my assistant along with you. I believe you'll find him at the edge of the camp. He knows the way back to the cart better than anypony I know and will be more than helpful in carrying some of the supplies back with you. Does that sound alright to you?"

Something about that last sentence seemed to freeze the colt in place, paling his fur and forming a horrified gape on his face. The youngster gradually seemed to realize he was doing this in the presence of someone else, and bobbed his head once again, this time with a little less energy.

Neuro waited for a verbal confirmation from the pony but only got a mumbled mess with something that almost sound like a "Professor" at the end of it. Either way, the left the tent in a frantic flash, leaving Neuro alone with the fascinating object before him.

Into the Woods

Alistair gingerly placed the small paper-wrapped parcel into the storage crate among the column of five others already inside the packaging. They all needed to be stacked tightly against one another for their eventual trip back to Canterlot, and any possibility of them getting damaged was something he'd avoid at all costs. The two-wheeled cart he was using as a workstation was sturdy enough, but a single bump in the road could be all that it would take to ruin the professors' samples.

He'd used some spare straw to fill in the minuscule space between each parcel and, for the most part, his progress was coming along nicely. He still had a few more crates to fill but at the very least he had just finished the one he was stacking currently. Smiling at the small success, he looked over at the crate lid that sat just a few feet away and began to concentrate.

Raising his right palm into the air, a fizing bright blue aura of light appeared in the center of his palm, glowing dully against his clothes and shimmering with torrents of compressed magic at his fingertips. He pointed his hand at the lid and watched as it too was absorbed in its aura of blue energy. He maneuvered his hand in the crate's direction, directing the lid as it levitated over to the opened top and promptly placed itself directly along the storage unit's sides. Alistair tightened his grip and heard the low groan of wood as the top sealed together under the force of his magic. He pushed it over to the stack of three other crates he already had completed at the back of the cart and levitated a fourth, unfilled one over to where he stood.

He was just about to start filling the next one when he realized that someone had been watching him. Turning around, his heart almost skipped a beat when he saw the turquoise unicorn standing behind him with an equally bewildered expression.

"Hello," Alistair greeted, taking his hands away from the crate. "Is there something you need?"

The unicorn, who just seemed to realize he was talking to him, bobbed his head in confirmation. "Um, uh, y-yeah. Professor Parapraxis wanted me to ask you to come with me back to the supply cart to pick up some sealant containers. He said that we're running out and wants us to get some more."

"Okay," the boy said with a nod, not needing much else explanation. "I can do that. I've meant to go out for a walk anyways. It'll be nice to get a little change of scenery." He paused and quickly extended his hand towards the unicorn. "By the way, my name's Alistair. I don't believe we've met."

The unicorn looked reluctant to touch his hand but shook it nonetheless. Alistair was slightly off put by the gesture but chose not to make it too apparent to the pony, who looked incredibly relieved when his hoof was back under his jurisdiction.

"My name's Quills," managed the unicorn with a little bit less skittishness to his voice.

"Very nice to meet you, Quills. It's good to see another student among this sea of PHDs. Where were you from before coming to the University?"

"Uh, Fillydelphia. Up in the northern suburbs."

"Fillydelphia," he confirmed with another nod of his head. "Summer's must have been nice, especially from how close the suburbs are to the lakes up there."

Quills eyes brightened. "You've been to Fillydelphia before?"

"Yeah. Went there a while ago on business. Very beautiful city but I hear it can get pretty cold there during the winters, especially with the skyscrapers making the wind sharper. Then again, what city doesn't?"

The unicorn awkwardly smiled and nodded his head. Alistair took that as a 'yes indeedy'.

He looked out into the network of trees surrounding them on all sides and spotted the path they'd originally come through to set up a camp. It wouldn't be too hard to maneuver through them; he'd seen worse back in Solitude. The countless years he'd spent there without maps or compasses had left him with a woodsmen's instinct in navigating wilderness and gave him clairvoyance enough to navigate through most of what nature could throw at him.

His earliest memories from the Realm of Solitude were starting to become a little bit fuzzy to picture, but his mind clearly recalled the pain of learning how to survive there when he first arrived there.

He shook his head to dissipate the thoughts. He didn't need to remember any of that now. Thinking about such things never brought him much comfort and further reminded him that the past, or at least his own, was a very undesirable lot of memories. He couldn't change what he'd experienced, so why dwell on them in the first place? It was useless and a waste of time but that didn't mean he couldn't stop his mind from wandering away when he least expected it to.

Sighing, he peered back at the unicorn, Quills, and gestured toward the woods. "C'mon we should get going. We're gonna be in for a bit of a walk, and I want us to be back before dark."

"Uh, yeah," Quills agreed with another bob of his head, "let's go."

The two set off into the woods with Alistair walking at point and Quills moving behind him. The young man kept his head perched at an almost predatory angle as he trekked through seemingly endless and identical crowds of trees. The sunlight still poked out from under the thick canopy of leaves, but the light had been gradually losing its brightness as the time passed. They'd need to get back to the expedition camp before the sun entirely faded from view. Alistair may have been good at tracking but doing so at night was a challenge in of itself.

There wasn't much conversation between them as they walked. Quills was much too discomforted with Alistair's presence and didn't want to distract him from his duty of making sure they wouldn't get lost in an endless expanse of greenery. And Alistair was fairly absorbed in his navigation while trying to smother what he'd been thinking about earlier.

But eventually, knowing that the unicorn wouldn't be taking the initiative on this, Alistair attempted to stir some semblance of a conversation.

“What did you say your major was, Quills?”

The unicorn looked surprised at his sudden speaking but answered the question with a greater sense poise than earlier. “I, uh, started out as Undecided but eventually moved into Quadropolgy at the start of my Sophomore year. I’m a Sophomore right now.”

“And is there any particular occupation you have in mind with a Quadropolgy degree?”

Quills shrugged even though he knew Alistair couldn’t see it from where he was walking. “I don’t know. I was interested in it, so I decided to study it. I’m not all that sure what I’m going to do with it once I’m out of college. But...yeah.” He paused. “What year are you...Alistair?”

“Technically, I’m a Freshman although I got about half of last Spring’s semester onto my credit hours. They were mostly half semesters courses as you’d expect, but Neuro was able to slide me into one of his lecture classes just for the fun of it.” He smiled to himself. “I even kind of enjoyed taking notes in the class for no good reason.”

“If you don’t mind me saying, that’s just a little bit crazy," the unicorn said politely. "A lot of my friends, myself included, absolutely hate it. Boring and a waste of time is what we call it.”

“I understand the sentiment. But it was a way for me to fit in with the class a little bit better, to make it look like I was part of the whole curriculum. Besides, I need to find some other ways to fit in with other ponies,” he gestured to his bipedal form, “looking the way I do.”

“Oh,” Quills responded with a bashful look to the ground, immediately feeling guilty about what he said. It hadn’t occurred to him that the young man would be concerned with fitting in with his peers and belonging to a larger group. He typically seemed so passive with it whenever he saw him around campus, so he just assumed it didn’t bother him. But as it would turn out, there were plenty of things he didn’t know about his guide just by looking at him. What else did he feel about the adopted world he lived in? He doubted Alistair would be too open in sharing it.

Noticing the silence, Alistair quickly rebounded from what he’d said. “I’m not offended or anything by the question! I just thought to tell you why. I didn’t mean to make things get a bit too...heavy. Goodness, we've just met, and I’m already doing this to you!”

“It’s fine,” Quills comforted with a raise of his hoof. “You have the right to bring it up instead of hiding it. Other ponies get a real kick out of dropping their baggage on anypony that will listen, and get aggressive when they don’t get the kind of response they're fishing for. Trust me, there’s a bunch of them on campus.”

Alistair chuckled. “So I’ve heard."

"How long have you been here then? Like, here here," he gestured to the ground, "not just here at the campus."

"Gosh, I'd say about two and a half years now, maybe three. I never really kept count on the exact day or month. A lot was happening in such a short period. And even when I began to simmer into things the entire concept of a 'calendar' was a bit foreign to me. I'd relied on temperature and air pressure for a lot longer than I did tangible writings if I ever could get my hands on them."

They walked for a little while longer before finally located the supply cart along the roadside. The porter ponies had left it just in the grass between the dirt road and the encroaching forest not but a foot away. The cart was much larger than the one Alistair had been using earlier, with several untouched saddlebags of precious and various supplies.

It took a little bit of riffling through the leather pouches to find the saddlebags that held what they were looking for. None of the professors had bothered labeling anything which left the cart a seemingly organized but covertly disguised mess. It wasted precious daylight as they turned the bags inside out looking for the desired sealant containers.

Eventually, they found three saddlebags containing what they needed but not before they could clearly see the sun beginning to set over the treeline.

"That doesn't look good," Quills remarked as he strapped two saddlebags across each side of his torso. "I didn't bring along any flashlights before we left."

Alistair hefted one of the saddlebags into his arms and found it was a lot heavier than he'd originally thought. He tried to lug it over his arms and across his back but found that the straps simply wouldn't fit his body type. He turned to Quills.

"We should get going before we're completely left in the dark. If we double timed it, we might just get back before nightfall. Emphasis on 'might'."

Quills gestured towards the forest, which was now a bit more shadowy than the two would prefer. "Lead on, then. I'll be right behind you."

That Familiar Feeling

The two walked with much more haste on the way back to the camp. The diminishing light overhead was like a timer that clicked away with each passing glimmer of light. The colors of the forest gradually slipped away and became little more than dark gray outlines among a dark background. Glimmers of moonlight were able to pierce weakly through the now black leafed canopy, giving them clairvoyance enough to at least see one another.

"How much longer do you think we have?" Quills asked as he arched his back to give it a much-needed break. "It feels like we've been walking for hours."

"I don't know," Alistair admitted as placed the saddlebag he was carrying in his arms onto the ground. "It's hard to recognize anything from it being so dark. If I could just see properly..."

He stepped a few paces away from Quills and began to look around every which way from where he was standing. His eyes darted at an almost mathematical speed. His mind trying to remember just when and where they had passed through on their way to the camp. It was all so confusing and disorienting. Everything looked the same in the dark, which made any memory of the landscape useless.

Sighing, Alistair turned to Quills and gestured to where he'd set his saddlebag. "I'm gonna have to leave this here. Lugging that thing around makes it much harder to concentrate on where we need to get and I can't even cast spells with my hands full like that. Having some proper lighting would make getting back at least partially possible."

"What if I used my horn to light the way instead?" Quills suggested. "Then we wouldn't have to leave anything behind and have to make another trip out here to find it."

"Then you'd have to be in front, and I'd have to be behind you. Please don't take this as an insult but directing you while simultaneously figuring just where we're headed wouldn't make my job any easier. And trust me, this is a lot harder than it looks."

He bent down to where the bag was and summoned an aura of energy into his palm, briefly scorching an 'X' into the ground. "There, now we know where to find it later. I can guarantee Neuro will understand when we explain it to him back at camp."

"If we get back to camp," Quills corrected humorously. "I heard bears and serial killers have a particular palette for lost college students."

Alistair smirked as a beam of blue light grew out from his right hand and leveled it forwards like a flashlight. The way ahead was immediately baked in a crisp, almost white shadow of light that illuminated nearly fifty yards in front of them.

He looked surprised at the beam's strength and inspected his digits as if they were a foreign object instead of belonging to his arms. "That's...brighter than I thought it'd be. Interesting."

"You make that sound like a bad thing. But maybe we should keep going, who knows how long it's been since we left. The others might get worried."

"You're right. We shouldn't keep them waiting any longer than we have to."

They almost doubled their speed from last time around, trudging through the forest with an added confidence that seemed almost to give them wings. But the night's darkness still crept around the edges of the magical light's reach no matter how bright it was. Alistair was still aware of the fact that his senses in such a setting still weren't entirely intact which required holding a much more composed concentration as he guided them through the black woods.

Time began to flicker away for the both of them. It was hard to tell just how long they'd been walking, and it was hard to gauge just how much progress they'd made. A mile? A kilometer? Ten feet? It was all relative at this point, and Alistair chose not to think about it while Quills chose not to ask about it. They'd get there when they got was the unspoken rule between them.

It was some time later that the distant lights of the expedition's camp fire's began to glimmer in the distance, stopping them in their tracts to gaze at them.

"We made it!" Quills announced jubilantly. "I can't believe we made it! Geez, I bet it's practically dawn by now. But at least, we're here, right?" He looked to Alistair for confirmation, who was standing like a statue a few paces ahead.

His eyes trained in on the distant flames, inspecting the faraway image's minor details for some anomaly. The boy's arm was still raised to position the illumination from his hand, but he promptly dissipated it and turned back around to Quills.

"Do you feel that?" he asked with an icy whisper.

Quills blinked in confusion. "Feel what?"

"That," Alistair beckoned to the camp about a quarter mile away. "Do you feel anything when you look at that? Does your horn feel anything?"

"No...it doesn't. Should it?"

Alistair shook his head. "I'm not sure, but something doesn't feel right. We've been gone too long."

"And how does that imply that something happened?"

"I..." the young man struggled with his words for a moment, "just feel something from here. Like something bad has or is going to happen. I don't like it."

Quills felt the urge to puncture the sentiment with some objective fact throwing, all with an unintentional sardonicness that would make it come off as if he was rude. But he opted against the action, taking some restraint in not giving his two cents on the matter. This was a situation he'd never quite found himself in and maybe thought it was best left to the bipedal before him who more than likely had. So instead, he kept quiet, taking some pride along with it.

Alistair took a few more paces toward the distant light and crouched down just by the incline of a dried trench. He squinted as far as his vision would take him while simultaneously waving Quills over.

The unicorn reluctantly followed. His patience was wearing thin the more his back moaned under the saddlebags he carried and any more shenanigans of the night just made it all the worse. They could see the campsite in front of them. Why was there any need to be cautious about it? The two had been walking for ages and Alistair was more than likely jumping at things that weren't there.

"Take the bags off," Alistair whispered. Quills immediately obliged without argument. "Follow me as I move up and try to stay at a crouch. Okay?"

Quills, with the load off his back, nodded with a bit more energy and less of a concealed frown. Alright, maybe he could play Alistair's game a little bit. He didn't have the pack on his back anymore after all.

They crept forwards to the camp and its bastion of orange fire that came brighter the closer they approached. Alistair made sure to avoid stepping on any leaves, twigs, or other such noise makers as they approached and shushed Quills whenever he accidentally did. Their heads were down as they moved, preventing much of a perspective as they approached, the only notifier being the growing light from the several camp fires.

Eventually, Alistair motioned for them to stop behind a deadfall just a hundred yards from the camp. He poked his head up over the downed tree to get a full picture of what he had felt earlier. He instinctively gasped at what he saw.

The camp had been ransacked. Sample crates had been split open and their contents scattered all over the site. Tents had been torn through with an animalistic tenacity and left in shreds. Small carts had been flipped over, documents of all sorts were strewn every which way, and it seemed that most personal effects from the professors had been tossed into a great big pile close to one of the fires.

But as for the professors, they lied in fixed lines by the main tent, bound and gagged by their hooves. Some sat while others lay, all looking forlorn to their hopeless predicament. None of them appeared injured, but a few were sobbing under the cloths that had been tied over their mouths. No one struggled against their bindings and nobody showed a sign of defiance against their captors.

Several different ponies, perhaps fifteen, walked among the prisoners. They looked gruff and dangerous, possibly bandits of a sort. The mares and stallions among them were all earth ponies, dressed in black-blue combat vests and promptly displaying swords or daggers in sheaths. They looked cocky, sure of themselves, knowing they were in control of the situation.

Their uniforms looked familiar to Alistair for some reason, and he focused his gaze on just what it was. It took a few seconds for him to recall, but once it finally clicked in his head, a rush of panic came over him.

"No!" he screamed while hopping over the deadfall and charging straight into the camp, summoning magic into both of his hands. “NOOOO!”

The ponies in blue-black looked surprised for a moment at just what was going on, neglecting to draw their weapons at the first sound of trouble. It was when Alistair blasted the first bandit in the chest, throwing it backward a good twenty feet, did the rest alert themselves to the present danger that had just come running in.

They rushed him all at once. The nearest to him swung with her blade at his head at a pace that was faster than he would have imagined. But he was still faster. Ducking underneath the blade, he rolled to his left and hopped back to his feet, firing another blast of energy that slammed into the mare and sent her tumbling to the ground.

Two more came into his range. One charged while the other hung back, waiting for a window to be made by his companion. With effortless grace, Alistair picked up the sprinting pony with the telekinetics of his magic and tossed him backward into his unsuspecting partner, sending them both into the dirt.

The rest came at him like a storm, moving and sliding around him in a flurry of blades. He dodged the first few strikes but felt a few steel points graze against his chest subsequently ripping parts of his shirt. The strikes had initially felt like scratches as he continued to evade their attacks to the best of his abilities, but he could begin to feel a warm trickle of blood from under his shirt.

A pony bounded into him with its head and front legs, grabbing his arms and trying to throw him to the ground. The pony's hold was firm against his own, and he could see another two ponies just a few feet away with their blades mid swing. With all his might (and a little help from his magic), he dragged the stallion around into his comrades direction and blasted him forwards, crashing into the other two with an overwhelming amount of force.

Alistair saw another blade flash out of the corner of his eye. He turned instinctively towards it, ready to counter another attack from the gang of bandits. But instead of another daring maneuver on his part, he felt the blunt end of a pommel smack against the top of his head, throwing his vision into a tailspin and sending him collapsing to ground in a confused stupor.

The world spin in front of his eyes and a throbbing pain sounded out from his skull. It took a moment for his vision to refocus finally from where he lay and when it did, he wasn't very confident from what he saw.

The bandits stood over him on all sides, each looking less than happy to his dispatching of them. A sword point was positioned by the edge of his throat, just shy of poking against his sensitive jugular vein. His eyes trailed the edge of the sword, looking up from the tip all the way to the pommel and into the eyes of the pony holding it.

His face paled, immediate realization coming back to him like a rushing wave. He tried to speak but found that his mouth just couldn't form the words, leaving him speechless and helpless on the ground.

"You know, there's other ways to say hello," Shale Press said with a smirk, continuing to hold the blade toward him.

Author's Note

My gosh, I really need to stay on top of updating better. There are several more chapters completed thus far, I've just been neglecting to actually post them. I'm gonna start churning them out a bit quicker now that break is beginning to wind down, possible one every two days.

Together Again

Alistair lied on the ground in shock, unable to utter a word to the mare he once knew and long considered her to be gone forever. Realizing his inability to speak, she smiled.

"Well don't tell me you're not even gonna say 'hello.' It's been about six months since we last saw each other. Don't you miss me?"

"S-Shale," he managed, "w-what are you doing here?"

She moved the blade away from him, her voice turning a bit more serious. "I could say the same to you. Skulking around in the woods in the dead of night and then attacking my group. Not a good way to present yourself if you don't mind me saying."

Alistair shakily got to his feet, still feeling the throbbing pain in his head. The crowd of ponies surrounding him shifted to his mounting position, many holding their blades out in defense to ensure he stayed right where he was standing. Alistair knew he could take some of them in a straight fight but the number that were present as well as the position he was in my the situation all the less unfavorable, especially with dozens glaring hostilely at him.

Realizing this, Shale quickly turned to them. "Get back to your duties, I can take it from here."

The group dispersed around them, leaving the two alone by one of the fires, both inspecting the other for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

Shale looked...different. While her gray earth-pony fur and purple mane were still how they'd always been, something in her eyes looked different. She seemed a little less strained, less encumbered like an enormous weight had been lifted from her conscience since they'd last been together. Something had always been on her mind, and it appeared she'd finally resolved whatever that was.

Her youthful liveliness was still written across her expression even though Alistair knew she was closer to forty than she was thirty. Her age had never been too apparent to him; she always was good at masking it with her personality. But there, at that very moment, she looked much more weathered than he remembered her to be, which he couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Other than that she was still the same pony with some minor changes, and from the way she was looking at him, it was likewise between them. They stood there silently for a moment, continuing to look at one another over the crackle of the fire beside them.

"How've you been?" Alistair asked casually.

She brought a hoof through her mane. "As good as any mare could be from where I'm standing. Losing hope in what you're fighting for and then destroying it can take a toll on anypony. You know?"

Alistair's eyebrows raised in exclamation. "It was you who gave the order to retreat?"

She nodded. "It was the only choice I had. Either let innocent lives be spent on a losing conflict or save as many ponies as I could. I knew from the beginning that the attack wouldn't work, and I knew there was no way to convince you of that, especially in the state that you were in. That attack was the end of the Night Lords. Our future, our entire destiny, teetered on that gamble pulling through. And evidently, it didn't."

"I'd rather not talk about that..." Alistair said while crossing his arms and looking toward the ground.

"You'll have to at some point. We all think about it whether we want to or not. Well, whose left of us anyway."

The boy looked confused for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"You probably already know that when the Sun Guard tracked the Airships' flight patterns back to the Crescent Isle the fortress had already been torched, with the remaining portions decimated by explosives. I issued those orders and afterward, in front of everyone who was left, announced that the Night Lords were over."

"Most accepted the decree, some weren't happy about it but agreed to the notion, and others...They go by different names now, remnants really. My team and I tried to track them, but it was no use. There were too many and too spread out over Equestria. We didn't have the resources or the manpower to keep up with all of them and pretty soon I lost most of what I had on them."

"Is that why you're here then?" Alistair asked with an edge, gesturing to the camp and its prisoners. "You think we're Night Lord remnants?"

"Oh, Celestia no! I can tell just from looking at them that these ponies wouldn't hurt a fly. No, something else has come up, something larger than that. Come with me and I'll explain."

She walked over to where the main tent was and went inside. With a look behind him and back into the words, Alistair followed after her.

Author's Note

Phew! Another chapter done! It's still kinda hard to regularly update everything, but this being a shorter one does make editing much easier. Longer chapters coming soon!