Chapter One: Unexpected Guests
The many great jubilations of the unicorns. Known across Gaia for their excesses and protocol. Dignitaries from visiting tribes and kingdoms and empires speak highly of the rare luxuries and lowly of the attitude of those assembled. Such judgement is most common.
Grand balls and magnanimous galas, elaborate ceremonies and sung-about affairs. Food and drink in abundance. Opulent and shining. The coming-of-age celebrations of the Ancient House Melûmenar can be said to be no different, except possibly for the friendlier disposition compared to other Houses.
A grand and ancient bloodline*, greatly esteemed and highly regarded amongst their peers. Their halls are many and grandiose, wonderfully made. Their history is well-known. As are the names of most of their House.
Yet not many ponies inquire deeply about the two heiresses to House Melûmenar, since their endeavours and the greater aspects of their futures are widely considered common knowledge among all unicorns of all provinces, as with the members to all great noble Houses. The daughters of one the greatest Houses of unicorns go unnoticed unless they attend some of these rather pompous events, characteristic of unicorn nobility. Mostly.
An exception being made when one of them was the purpose of said event.
*Further information found under Aūne-Melûmenar, inscribed by Head-Scribe Dipped Quill. History Chambers of Aūne-Lerien.
—Academic Work Chambers of Aūne-Lerien, 'Aūne Alumálelyēne Erlēwen'. Scribe Evening Sun's commentary.
~~~~~
A peaceful knock on the door. Sunlight poured into the windows of a grand bedchamber, pink and gold through the stained glass. The figure of a young mare twitched between the linen covers and downy feather pillows.
Pastel bedding was strewn around and thrown to the floor unconsciously. Bedposts of sculpted mahogany supported the bed's canopy. The mare's back hooves stuck out of the bed, as she had become rather tall this last year.
The pony outside the room knocked just a bit harder. The mare's snowy white ears moved about. Her eyelids fluttered lazily.
Then her eyes shot open. It was today. She couldn't be late, no matter how much she wished for it. She sat up.
'Yes? Come in, if you please,' called the dulcet voice of the sheet-entangled mare through a mouthful of pink mane. The door was opened noiselessly. Quite the small orange pony walked in.
Sunflower was her name in the common tongue, and when in privacy, the heiress did not speak Onmaulïé. The clothes of servants she wore did not do much to hide or diminish the prettiness of her pixie-like face. Simple blue robes and a lady-in-waiting's flower coronet highlighted her freckled face and straight black mane. She was not quite as beautiful as her lady before her, but rather what one might call 'cute'.
'Good morning. Sorry to disturb you, milady, but I was asked by your father to help prepare you for this afternoon.' The maid's apologising was in a volume almost inaudible by pony ears.
'Oh. 'Tis okay. I need all the help that can be found,' said Celestia, heir to the throne of the Ancient House and guest of honour of that night's coming-of-age ball. She smiled with one of the corners of her mouth as she levitated a beautifully-carved wooden brush to the back of her head. It had been crafted for her by a visiting artisan when she was a filly.
Sunflower's aura took it from her to commence the brushing of the half-asleep unicorn's long entangled mane. She brushed slowly and gently, taking care to not hurt, but smoothen. To undo the tangles so her lady would not have to tug at them in her bath. Something she had done since she was small. Since they had played together.
Meanwhile, Celestia looked at her own visage in the enchanted crystal of her mirror. The sections of her crest not being brushed resembled brambles more than hair. Her fur was messy. Disorganised.
Long and slender like she who it was attached to, the horn that projected from her forehead would need to be polished before she could present herself. Her glimmering violet eyes had a few veins visible.
Multicoloured bedclothes, rumpled, only contributed to the list of things Father would not approve of if he saw them anywhere outside her chambers.
Sighing softly, the heiress got up for her mirror-stool to bathe. The servant ceased her brushing and sat silently as the white mare walked to the other side of the room. Celestia stepped into the bathing room, disrobing piece by piece as she went. The marble floors and pumice columns of the space gave it a cool atmosphere. The water-duct over the bathing pool was carved from yellow crystal, making the room shimmer slightly from the torches on its walls. She unlocked the water-duct and waited while a pleasantly warm jet flowed from it, directly from the castle's water talisman.
As the bath filled to its immense capacity, she wondered about her sister. Surely Luna was already prepared and being fitted with her dress by their Mother's tailors. While she adored spending time with her sister, the celebration would surely be uneventful for them both, making the precious time feel wasted. She shook herself from her thoughts as steam reached her nose. The fair white unicorn stepped into the water, carefully locking the water-duct as she did.
To the side of the bathing pool was a large variety of oils in an equally large variety of containers. Most of them were taken into her aura, opened, and poured in their entirety into the water. The vapour smelled of roses and other flowers and spices, the perfume wafting into her nose.
Water's surface remained peaceful, undisturbed by Celestia as she lay on the submerged seat built into the pool. The liquid wrapped around her, comforting, and warmed her to her insides. She was tempted, for a moment, to lose herself to sleep inside it.
Time ceased to exist. As her body soaked in the water (mixed with many oils and extracts) she ruminated.
Her father would prepare a grand feast and ball, something (in the eyes of the other nobles) worthy of his title as Laēlas Laulïé of the southern province of Mântælyr. There would be many guests hailing from many places in Onmêlemyr (so did the unicorns call their lands). Food and drink would be plenty. Yet Father cared more about the blessings and prophecy-songs of the great elders, travelling through the snow and storms from the sacred crystal caves of Marwē-Æren. The event would be long, but she would endure it for Father's sake.
'Milady?' The voice of Sunflower, soft-spoken through the thickness of the door, pulled her back to the present. 'Sorry to be the one to disturb your peace. Again... But the tailor is here to do the final fitting on your gown for tonight...'
'Yes.' Replied Celestia, blinking the relaxing haze away. 'Forgive me, Sunflower. I shall be out in a moment.'
'Of course.'
Stepping out of the scented bath, she resisted the urge to shake herself, choosing instead a soft drying-cloth that would leave her coat more appropriate for a dress fitting. She dried her wet fur and stepped into modest under-robes, blue as the sky and with a golden trim in the image of winding magic channels.
Celestia exited into her bedroom. Already, the tailor, a stallion who appeared to be the tailor's assistant, and Sunflower awaited her. The tailor curtsied; her assistant bowed after a small pause. She couldn't remember this particular tailor's name, yet her azure coat and thin, pointed face seemed to be familiar to a degree.
Squinting golden eyes seemed to examine her, determining how to best accentuate her features. The tailor's bag overflowed with materials, fabric, fibres, and the tools of her trade. Beside it lay a package; a reddish wooden box with a silver clasp and considerable size. The tailor herself was dressed in what might have been one of her own pieces: a simple robe-dress the shade of autumn leaves that shimmered in the light. A needle-shaped broach adorned it. The assistant had a silver robe and royal-blue mane. He was young, but not as much as Celestia herself.
'Your dress for tonight is ready, lady.' Said the tailor with pride. 'I only need to make minute adjustments so it fits you perfectly.'
'Thank you...' Celestia trailed off, for it was always embarrassing when she forgot a name. She blushed involuntarily.
'Loom, madam. My name is Loom.' Responded the tailor with a dip of her head. Her voice was authoritative and educated, fitting her unamused stare and short-cropped and carefully styled locks.
'And I would be Linen Weave' Added the assistant with a smile. Loom glared at him pointedly. He shrank to a size smaller than should have been possible. 'Sorry...'
Throughout the exchange, Sunflower stood respectfully to the side, waiting to see if she would be required further.
The tall, opal unicorn moved to stand a few centimetres from the tailor. She stood perfectly straight, as she had been taught. Miss Loom began unlocking the box's clasp, levitating it in front of Celestia. The mare with the serious expression looked at Sunflower. And raised her eyebrow.
'Oh. Yes.' The small marigold mare's tongue stumbled over her words. 'I... I'll go now.' She started toward the door, struggling internally to not let her head hang.
'Wait.' Celestia turned her head to look at her. She smiled a small smile. 'Stay. I may still require your presence.'
'Very well.' Said the tailor as she finally opened the box and took out a folded dress. Her bag was promptly unpacked, the contents being carefully arranged between her and Celestia, needle by needle and spool by spool. 'Please stand as still as you can and don't move.' Ordered Loom. She obeyed.
The garments were slowly unfolded and the box laid on the floor again. Every section was subsequently put on Celestia one piece at a time. She couldn't help but stare in the mirror.
A tight-fitting violet piece of fabric hugged her neck; designs of crystals in enchanted silk covered the piece. Her barrel and chest were wrapped with a shapely half-robe of gold thread. The way the clothes overlapped and intertwined reminded her, in a way, of trees and vines. Loose purple sleeves hung around her front legs, decorated with golden trim and silver thread. A dress of the same colour covered her hindquarters, draping over them; parted in half as to not obstruct her tail—for it was a quite long tail.
The tailor gestured at her assistant, who passed her a needle and thread made of crystal. She stitched and stitched, bringing the garment together into one piece. Contemplated practically, the fitting was a quick thing, and could've waited until the afternoon; yet tradition insisted the dress be worn for the length of the day.
Celestia simply stared as Miss Loom continued her work carefully and meticulously. It was beautiful. And she was quite fond of beautiful things of any kind. The usually majestic bookshelves and wardrobes of her room paled in comparison. She took in its every detail until, after what seemed like a meagre second, Linen Weave started packing the tailor-bag again. As he stuffed every material and tool inside, the tailor looked accomplished and smug.
There were only two words the newly-dressed mare could mutter: 'Thank you.' Or maybe three more: 'It's very beautiful.' At this, Loom only nodded. She turned to exit, her poor assistant bumbling behind her. They closed the door after themselves, leaving the heiress and the servant alone inside mauve walls. Celestia sat down carefully as to not rumple the beautiful piece.
'What did you require me for, milady?' Asked Sunflower with some sheepishness. She fidgeted with her hooves awkwardly. Celestia smiled again.
'Nothing, really.' She winked. 'I just enjoy talking to you.' She said honestly, nodding. She had truly enjoyed the servant's company for many years, calling her a friend.
Opening the jewellery case Mother had gifted her some birthdays ago, Celestia picked up her tiara in a golden shimmer, placing the small object of crafted metal and precious stones upon her head and tucking her mane neatly behind it. She also put on a ruby necklace of interlinking chains and small gems.
'Are you excited, milady?' Inquired the small mare.
'Not really.' Explained the larger one. 'It will be a party, but not for me and my friends.' She consciously deviated her gaze towards that freckled face and sighed. 'It will be for the visitors. And for Father. I know his intentions are good, but I would prefer to learn to help the ponies here instead of learning how to please the rest of the nobility.'
'Don't be sad.' Replied her friend softly, momentarily 'forgetting' the title on purpose, looking directly at her with deep emerald eyes and smiling nervously but supportively. 'We'll have a party tomorrow; if we can get away with it. Your sister, Nightbloom, us; all four of us. We'll bake some cake.'
'Thank you.' Said Celestia, and she meant it. She finished putting on the necklace. There was a rather comforting pause. It lasted a few minutes, but it was warm.
'Shall we meet your sister, then?' Sunflower asked as she opened the door in a sweeping motion.
'Yes. I think we shall.' The alabaster unicorn in her exquisite dress stood up, the fabric waving and shimmering. She followed Sunflower to the gardens outside.
Rays and beams of sunlight illuminated every surface in the gardens. They filtered through the canopies of many a great tree and gave a greenish light. They shone upon the many flowers and the smaller trees; lit up the great crystal fountain. Said fountain stood proud in the midst of the space, shaped like a tree itself; not geometric like many crystal-things, but rather as flowing as the water that ran from it. The streams of water flowed into artificial rivers that webbed the garden and watered everything in it. Every flower that grew here was in perpetual and eternal bloom from many incantations and magics.
On the other side of this breathtaking garden stood a mare almost as tall as Celestia herself: Luna. The midnight-blue mare wore a similar dress-robe to her sister, but darker in colour and much less elaborate in appearance. Her long mane and tail were braided and interwoven with silver and flowers. Her expression lit as she saw Celestia and Sunflower approach.
To her right stood another servant with a coat black as the night-sky and a cascading mane white as the light of stars. Nightbloom was her name. Ice-blue eyes shone in her face.
Luna and Celestia rested their heads on the other's shoulder in greeting.
'It is very good to see you, Tia.' The endearing name made the white mare blush.
'You too, Lulu.' She nodded with friendliness to the other servant she had known for years and come to call friend; sadly, protocol had to be observed. Nightbloom never smiled much, but Celestia could tell she was happy for her. They walked calmly.
And so, the four mares went off to see the king.
They entered the main section of the massive castle and wound through passageways of stone lit by floating blue lights. Many ancient cosmetic runes carved on the walls made stone appear as marble, jade, and gold.
At last, they entered the great hall of Mênarlaulïén—the hall of the eternal kings. It preceded the throne-room, but was no less glorious. Great columns made of golden trees hanging with glass vines supported the open circle that composed the ceiling.
Anywhere else, rain would have been a problem, but through wards nothing but fair weather ever reached the halls of House Melûmenar. The roots of such sculptures seemed to melt and fuse into the ground, creating a mosaic of the starry skies.
Between the columns stretched spiderwebs. Yet these were not of any spiders, but rather magic-webs. They silently displayed the history of the House for all in the hall to see and wonder. There were moving-pictures that refracted the light in such a way that scenes played: the first unicorns, who had still called themselves Onmêlem, for they knew no tongue but their own: the One-Tongue, the first daughters and sons of Melûmenar forging the star gems from moon- and sun-light, the Houses rising, and the building of Eŵenlor; the halls of the forest. The webs bathed the four companions, for they could be called that, in white and blue light.
The two servant-friends stood at the bottom of the stairs which led to the throne room gate, which stood proudly proclaiming its lord and lady. The sisters stepped forward and spoke in practised unison, reciting words they had been taught in the languages of their ancestors:
'Naulên nelëydas Eŵen Laulïén' Their voices rang clear and melodic. The enormous gate knew. They wished to see the king of the forests, and they spoke as daughters of the House. The door glowed, and with not even a whisper, it parted open like a curtain.
On the other side, two guards stood, marked in arcane runes which glowed as their eyes did. Motionless as if they were part of of the chamber, they did not even breathe. Their armour, forged in the image of the rolling waves of the open sea, covered them but for their eyes, ears, and tails. They nodded at Luna and Celestia with perfect synchronisation and respectful demeanour.
Both heiresses walked as fast as they could, their dress-robes trailing behind them, to greet their mother and father.
Father sat regally in his throne made from ancient roots which rose to the heavens, as he always had. He had led an unusually long life; his pure-white face, however, did not show it. Not a single wrinkle marked him, only smile lines. His auburn mane was arranged into many braids, made themselves from smaller braids and arranged around his horn. A crown of red-wood branches, golden filigree, and red autumn leaves sat upon it. Heavy robes with a lattice of many shimmering silk and glass-strings rested on his shoulders. As all unicorns, he had no beard. His lips parted to grin as he laid eyes upon his daughters.
Their mother's expression was cold, yet softened at least some when she saw them approach. Golden fur and a stark-black mane glinted, ice-like, in the prismatic light of her husband's garments. Silver lattice and gems shaped like berries were twined in her hairs. The seat beneath her was fashioned of the same gold that covered the floors. Her horn was slender in the same way of her neck—and sharp. Elegant might have been a better word.
Their daughters were nuzzled gently by them. Celestia leaned against her father's downy but strong chest—as did Luna—while her mother caressed their heads.
'Hello, Lewëylé.' Said Morning Star gently, his custom of calling them 'little ones' made the sisters blush. 'How did you sleep?' The cloudy voice made Celestia feel safe.
'Hello, Father' She said adoringly. Luna resolved to answer the question.
'We slept pleasantly. It was a good night.'
'That is good. Today is a very special day and it would do no good to be tired. It does good to be excited, however.' His gentle laughter was deep and rich; it filled the room.
He lifted his gaze past his guards, to the door, now parting open. He smiled. 'I am very sorry, my loves, but you must go now; it would seem we have the first petitioners.' While Celestia hesitated, wanting to remain and observe, Luna kissed her father and mother farewell and turned to depart. Soon, the elder sister followed.
More preparations had to be made for the ceremony later that night until court came to an end. The siblings and their friend-servants would have quite a long day before it began.
~~~~~
Celestia smiled a tired smile as she sat on a small throne that had been erected that same day. It was quite uncomfortable, and the heiress much missed her bed and her sitting-pillows. Her sister sat beside her, in a place of honour, yet not on the centre. Her mother and father stood behind them in full formal robes. The banquet hall had been prepared. Root-chandeliers hung from the column-branches, illuminating every small corner with rainbow-coloured light. She could see Luna observing them intently with wide eyes, as if she had not seen such things before.
A great feast-table with many cakes and greens and fruits and drinks occupied half of the hall, the raised throne-platform half of the other half. Many guests sat and stood. Many conversed. Others waited.
All fell silent at the sound of three very particular and weighty sets of hooves.
Hoods covered their faces. Postures firm. Their hooves were heavy and strong with security. They were old, yet their wisdom far outweighed their years. They walked from other places. From afar. They had come down from their mountain to give prophecy-songs. Envoys of the Eolïé. The elders from Marwē-Æren. All eyes followed their path as they approached the dais. Their ethereal robes rippled like ocean-currents.
'Welcome.' Said Morning Star. He bowed slightly.
'We accept your welcome, Eŵen-Laulïén.' Spoke the mare in the midst with a voice young yet so old. Her eyes seemed to see both nothing at all and everything there was, would be, or had been. 'And we bring you a song for those who are now princesses.' He nodded, not in understanding, but in acceptance.
'You must be mistaken.' Said Luna, turning to them with furrowed eyebrows.' 'Tis my sister's ceremony, not yet mine.'
The mare fixated on her with a much-knowing stare. 'We do not make mistakes.' She stated in a simple but final manner. 'The Erŵenmēr do not make mistakes. The seeing-pools show only the truth. Sometimes clouded, yet always true. As the moon rises, so do two princesses. Now be silent and listen to the song given to us by the Erŵenmēr. Do not hear. Listen.' The asker was silenced.
A single sustained note filled the air. Pure and transparent. Three voices merged to one. The passing wind bent into whistling music around it. Words began. They sang in Onmaulïé, yet all was understood only to the sisters. And all was song.
The earth yet breathes,
The stars yet shine
The lights now wreathe
You with their light
The son of dawn lives yet free
Forge-fires shine, the crystal gleams
Mountain-roots and scrolls of leaves
Lay asleep, in slumbers deep
But rising storm, and coming cold
Leave the forges with ash for gold
Daughters of eldest star of dawn,
Swords by destiny are drawn
Hewn are the fates, spun is the tale
Cold are the blades, strong is the gale
Bitter the cup, yet sweet the yields
Brightest of stars, darkest of nights
Companions forged as ancient steel
Strife descends upon these fields.
The envoys ended their song almost abruptly, leaving Celestia and Luna dazed. Then, without much preamble or delay, they exited. To make the journey back to their mountain. To gaze into their seeing-pools. Their pace was calm, but not slow. No one followed or attempted to say anything. Not one soul invited them to stay. No one would question the strange ways of the Eolïé.
They left. These being the great forest-halls, the conversation was soon revived. The atmosphere was once more relaxed.
Luna looked at her sister, wondering if they should try to interpret the song. Celestia began talking to the approaching nobles from other Houses, welcoming any distraction and calm that could be found. The king and queen of the forest were also engaged in conversations, even if they looked to their daughters from time to time. So she who was apparently now also a princess followed their example.
A pair of ponies approached Celestia. Their iron-covered hooves clanged upon the floor. This was, however, a very unusual pair of nobility to be seen. They were not of Onmêlemyr, but from the vast Eryalem-Kingdoms to the north-west. One was covered in grey armour made for cold, with animal-furs and skins, engraved with Earthish runes. It was geometric instead of smooth, as was the craft of his people. He displayed a grand aquamarine beard, braided and combed, and wild hair. He appeared to have a shaved tail.
The other wore nothing but the most simple of earth-pony-clothes—a breastplate and trousers and such. All squareish. Yet her fur had the shining appearance of stained glass—cherry-red, with a cropped chartreuse mane. They bowed their heads with respect.
'Grandest of nights to you, princess.' Greeted the mare. 'I am Emerald Crown, ambassador from the earth-kingdom of Khäzin-Moryad to your people. My companion is Iron-Clad.' She chuckled behind a raised hoof. Iron-Clad bowed his grey head again. 'We wish to congratulate you. Both for your coming-of-age and your birthday.'
'Thank you, Lady Emerald. And grandest of nights to you as well.' The ambassador seemed quite friendly. And well-wishing.
'I accept your thanks, princess.' Emerald Crown curtsied graciously. 'I hope much more merriment comes to these halls.' She smiled.
Iron-Clad grunted through his head-scarf.
'If you will excuse me, I must now speak to your father.' Celestia nodded, watching the crystal-mare walk to her father, companion in tow. She stopped for a moment, thinking; she was now princess. The ponies would now call her by a chosen name in the tongue of the ancients. She would have to learn to rule fairly. She blinked and craned her neck to see the ambassador's congratulations to her father.
A thin gold drinking-cup rolled slightly on the crystal floor. One of the servers must have dropped it.
An elaborately-dressed stallion stopped the crystal-mare, and began speaking to her. She giggled. Iron-Clad stood by stoically. She excused herself, turning to the king again.
The cup came to a standstill. Sweet unicorn-wine bled on the floor.
The mare initiated conversation.
What she had to say must have been important, for Morning Star sent the ponies assembled near him away; they went off to find other talking-companions. The forest-king leant toward her to hear her whispers in his ear. He leant closer. And closer. He smiled with pride, which made his eldest daughter smile in turn.
His smile faltered some. His muscles tensed suddenly.
His smile turned into a gasp.
Celestia was taken aback. A crimson liquid trickled down the red pony's front leg. A single drop fell to the ground. An exhalation could be heard through the hall, like the growling of a wolf. A hacking cough. Specks of red spittle flew from Father's lips into the air. He crumbled.
A gleaming metal handle stuck out from the soft fur of his chest, exactly on his heart. Father's body shook with every forced breath. He bled under the handle. He coughed again and again. Eyes became dull for the first time since they opened.
'Ah.' His final breath signalled his soul leaving his body, shaking the world before being swept by the wind.
A wailing scream rang out: 'Father!' Celestia did not know if it was her or her sister. The guards of Melûmenar surrounded the ambassador and her companion in a blur of movement. There was menace in their glowing eyes. They growled. Runes whirled around them in a storm as they spoke. A raging tongue. Mighty incantations.
Before they could cast any spells, a small army leapt down from the branches. They landed everywhere, breaking glass and bending metal. One by one, the scarred and painted warriors screamed hate. All of them clad in armour and with weapons ready.
With a swift motion and a swift hissing sound of steel, the soldiers of the House lay bleeding and agonising on the ground. They murmured Tongue hopelessly; they could not heal themselves from the slits in their throats. The runes spat electricity and wild sparks.
Puddles of their blood mixed with the spilled wine. Red on red, shining like a mirror.
Servers lay on the floor; slitted wounds marred their bodies.
The sisters were paralysed; they only stood.
Their mother, her robes torn and tears streaking her cheeks, stood with great pain and difficulty. Scratches seeped. Rage boiled inside her. She levitated the dagger out of her fallen husband's body with care. It made a hissing sound, like a poised snake.
She stabbed Emerald Crown with all her strength. Again. Again. And again. The ambassador looked up from the shining stream of crimson flowing from her barrel. And smiled.
Her smile was wide and unnatural.
'I am but a humble farmer...' Her eyes became all-grey. Cold winter famines and the bite of ice swirled behind them. She rasped through ragged breaths. She chuckled. A voice sounded like breathing through a tunnel. From her throat, yet not hers. Unlike the voice of any living creature. 'Reaping the fruit of the seeds of war.' With one last breathy laugh, she collapsed into the puddles. Blood splashed.
The ambassador exhaled her last breath.
Her dishonourable army pounced upon the queen like a pack of hungry lions. Unnatural rage and spite covered their faces. They leapt. Their many blades were ready to tear her apart without remorse.
Before they reached her, her horn lit up. The light burst. Movement slowed down. The assassins fell slowly through the time-spell, their expressions darker and icier through it. A tear fell from her eye. It glittered like a diamond, falling into the crimson.
She smiled warmly at her daughters. From the every corner of her soul, with all the love she could express, for she could never express it again. Her eyes said it would all be okay. She muttered a Word. She teleported them.
In a flash, the ceremonial thrones were empty. The enemies fell upon her. Yet the queen was happy in her final moments.
~~~~~
With a burst of light, Celestia and Luna found themselves in the garden, crashing into a running Sunflower and Nightbloom. Fabric shredded. They almost fell. They could not speak.
'Lulu! Tia!' Protocol was forgotten. They panted. The smaller mares saw the tears and dirtiness of the sisters' faces. Their crushed expressions.
'Noises. Screams. Running.' Nightbloom was hyperventilating and rapidly blinking. 'Us. Out. Now!' Sunflower stood with moist eyes, quietly breathing.
A confusion of hurried words followed. Somehow, the sisters ended up sprinting, following their friends through a maze of corridors. Their hearts raced until they felt like bursting, and then more. Stone clacked under their hooves.
In the end, they came to the servant's quarters and the armoury. Scores of hoofsteps followed them. They entered the armoury quickly. The rarely-used implements of battle hung on racks and walls. Three walls and one entryway. No escape. It was a bag's end.
Sunflower started weakly hitting sections of wall with desperation. Celestia and Luna stood unsure in the centre of the room. The small orange mare started hitting gems. One of them clicked. The wall parted like a waterfall suddenly obstructed by a rock. Nightbloom hurriedly gave assorted small weapons to all of them, stowing them in their robe-belts.
'Run!' Shouted Nightbloom, un-hilting a small guard-sword from its scabbard. She picked up a shield, turned to face the entrance. Luna opened her mouth to object. The marching hoofsteps grew closer. 'I said run!' She yelled forcefully. With hesitation, the other three began galloping into the hidden passage. The sound of metal on metal followed them. War cries.
'Come here, snake-spawn. You shall not enter this room!' She sounded determined, born for battle. She grit her teeth and prepared to face the earth-assassins. She pushed her three friends completely inside with a strong wave of magic. She screamed at the incoming hordes.
Inside the tunnel, they had stumbled to the ground, falling over one another.
Luna got to her hooves and ran back in the direction of the armoury. She couldn't leave Nightbloom alone. She called out. The wall closed in front of her. Fresh tears ran freely. The cries and sounds of cutting filtered through the solid. 'Nighty!'
Something hit the wall with a great bang. More.
They did the only thing they could: they ran. Their visions were obscured by the grief in all their eyes. Now-ripped and torn robe-tails trailed behind the sisters. Nothing trailed behind Sunflower. They followed the secret tunnels, knowing not where they would lead.
Bends and forks. They ran between the old walls, shaped from living roots. There was no light, yet somehow they stayed close together; anchored to each other when nothing else was certain. The shock inside their hearts was too strong to fully register what had happened. It was surreal, like a dream.
Or rather a nightmare.
Over twisted roots and through winding passages they travelled, guided by each other. No purpose or destination, only 'far away'. Only 'stay close'; 'stay together'. Their once-beautiful garments now hung in tatters and knots. Their home was overrun.
Light shined from far away. The light at the end of their tunnel. Small wisps of moon-beams filtered through just ahead.
As they approached the light, the roots slowly started parting. Distance closed, roots opened. They seemed to breathe. The escapees breathed even more heavily. Celestia stepped slowly into the moonlight, followed by Luna, and then Sunflower. After the gloom of the roots, even the meagre light of the moon blinded them.
Water ran in front of them. Soft sand gave way underneath their weight. Soft like their parents' embrace. Shattering of glass could be heard in the distance. Not able to support herself, Celestia collapsed to her four knees. And wept. Not a word was spoken. Not a sound was heard but muted sobbing. Luna sat down next to her, all strength leached from her. She stared with unfocused eyes; to nothing.
'F—Father...' Luna's voice trailed off. The tone was forced. Tears could be heard through her words. 'He is not... He cannot be... Tia... He... And... Ni—Nighty...' She trembled uncontrollably small spasming gasps racked her. A scowl oppressed her eyes. Her ears fell. They drowned together in the choking feeling.
The sisters cried.
Sunflower stood back, feeling grief for her friends, yet unsure of what to do. Not knowing what else she could do, she placed herself in the middle and hugged each sister, hoping the pain would go away. They wept into her chest. She did the only thing she could; she cried softly for them.
Chapter Two: Messengers
Maulïé. Tongue. Magic. From simple spells and illusions to incantations that rewrite the scrolls of reality and possibility. Magic has been with the Onmêlem since the dawn of the First Ages, always called upon with words and Maulŷl, the word-runes. It is the most useful of the tools of the fair ponies of the First-Lands, used to make all other artefacts. There are no others who know The Tongue, or who can channel its magic in the known world. Yet even amongst them, it is difficult to truly know the tongue—and master it*.
The Maulŷl are often tattooed into the skins of most Tongue-scribes and those who use Maulïé in battle. In this form, magic can be derived from any energy in and around the caster and channelled to any specific spell. They are otherwise carried in the form of Alyu-Maulŷl—rune-stones. The stones can store magic for later use in a weaker state than cast spells. Many initiates or even deer carry them for ease of casting or self-defence.
Magic can come from various sources: the emotions of the caster, memories, runes, natural sources, storage, and even the very soul or life-force of the user. The most powerful form of magic, however, comes directly from the great forces of our world: love, friendship, courage...
Or from hate, suffering, rage... The magic born of these things is expressed in angry Tongue and broken runes. It is Dark Magic. Ukmaulïé. This 'shattered-tongue' has destructive, sometimes irreversible consequences for both the victim and the user; oftentimes, one pony is both. It is not controlled, it is not understood, it only consumes. Dark Magic has not been seen for centuries, yet its effects still linger where it was cast in olden days.
*Ancient texts are unclear as to the exact number of Mesâu-Maulïé.
—Middle Chambers of the Tongue of Aūne-Lerien, 'Maulïé Amēlulkyá.' Tongue-Scribe Ecéntyel.
~~~~~
Rain. The drops and fogs of the forest pooled on the riverside. They poured into the current. The space between the trees became as grey as the sky. Wind blew through every kilometre of the ever-red leaves of the Woods of Mântælyr. Cold water ran down the glorious parapets of the forest-halls of Eŵenlor, silent but for the clanging of iron hoof-guards. Weather-runes with nopony to replenish them let the water fall to its floors for the first time since it arose.
Under the rain sat three mares. One did not care for the downpour that fell upon her dirtied pink mane, for she felt colder on the inside. A small sprout of guilt grew inside her. Her sister shivered miserably from the cold, machinating ways to fix everything. The last mare was smaller, her almost-foalish features were marred by a hard-thinking expression as she tried understand what to do. They were nonetheless comforted by the others' presence.
A small boat was moored on the riverbanks, a relic from the time when the children of Melûmenar still took to sea.
The great barrier-river roared mightily, but even its thundering could not mask the sound of many moving sets of Earthish armour. The search-parties had been sent.
First, an armoured head clutching Morning Star's starlight dagger in its mouth rounded the corner. Then the rest of the pony followed, along with her comrades. Sunflower looked up from the mud and sand. Her pupils were reduced to small pinpricks; irises glistened in the grey. Her ears stood on point.
The last tear fell into the river.
Their pursuers caught sight of them. They felt backed into a corner. Until they remembered the boat. Sunflower scrambled inside, dragging the sisters by their manes and apologising in her mind. They were dropped hurriedly on their backs. Though surprised, they both registered the hunting figures. Freezing wind blew through the small boat.
Celestia desperately searched her knowledge for a specific Word. One Father had taught her. She found it. She hoped it would work on ropes as well as it did on garden-trees.
'Fêln!' Her broken shout rang through the rain. The mooring-rope was suddenly cut in half. The boat was swept away by the currents. The starlight dagger impaled itself in the plank beside the white unicorn's right ear. She flinched. They sped through the waters.
Voices and alarm-chimes followed them.
The boat bounced upon the river as the current threw it. Everything seemed blurred to them. They dug in their hooves as strongly as they could. Inside the small craft, they were tossed like skipping-stones.
Water slammed the wooden vessel into one of the many mossy white rocks. Luna's head was hit by the long oar. Warm pain grew just above her forehead. Her horn stabbed the side of the boat. She pulled herself free only to be tossed again. Rain and river-water wet them to the bone.
They had all been to the small rivulet that flowed from this river to the library of the castle; it had always been peaceful and meek. This one was violent and strong. It was hard to stand.
Under-currents and over-currents clashed. The river-waves clashed. They showed no signs of stopping, racing halfway in the air. Suddenly, the current wasn't so fast.
Sunflower's eyes and ears peeked, shaking, above the rim, half-covered by the black hairs of her mane. She could see as she saw when she served in the terraces; they were approaching the lands of Aūne-Lerien. The House of History. The scribes.
Sudden stillness fell on the vessel.
As if some artifice were upon the forest-halls, after the mouth of the river, the lake and all beyond it was calm. The stars could be seen, glorious alongside the moon. The great sky-lights shined with all their colours. The hanging terraces and libraries of the knowledge-chambers rose in the distance.
Staring at the horizon was all she could do.
She glanced back into the boat to see the others fast asleep. The motionless surface of the lake and moonlight's embrace had quietly lulled them to rest. Being a servant, she had much more endurance than her companions. So she stayed awake, keeping watch.
But the lake was too peaceful and the boat rocked temptingly as it glided. Soon, she fell too. And slept.
~~~~~
Waves lapped on the white sand shores. The earliest beams of the morning sun painted the reflections red upon the waters. Branches and leaves were rustled by the cool breath of the breeze.
A wind-ruffled purple-blue mane moved as ears and eyelashes flicked. It was covered in wooden splinters and still humid from the splashing water. Her braid was becoming unraveled. Luna's head rose from the boat, blinking the sleep away. She hadn't dreamed. Her bed was strangely stiff and hard. Her neck hurt. A dull ache throbbed around her horn. She turned around to see her sister and her friend sleeping close together. Tia snored.
Last night crashed over her. There wasn't much debilitating pain left; she had cried herself dry. She had to try to fix this. Somehow. She always did. Sometimes she wished she could be like Celestia: always seeing the good, always knowing exactly what to do.
Her now-shredded and wet ceremonial dress was quickly discarded, leaving only her moon-white simple under-robe. The garment covered only her chest, barrel, and flanks. The dress lay on the mud, moved by the soft tide. She examined the belt where Nightbloom had affixed a light archer's dagger... Nightbloom... She shook the thought away.
She had not the slightest idea of how to make use of a weapon, yet she still hung the belt on herself. The weight was unfamiliar.
There was stirring on the boat. Two bodies stood in unison. Frazzled and half-humid manes covered their eyes. They looked at her. Violet and emerald eyes slowly widened.
'Luna?' Celestia seemed unsure it was actually her sister she saw. Then she looked at her own dress and remembered. She mouthed a slow and exhaling 'oh'. Sunflower simply stepped out of the boat, with a lopsided gold-flower wreath.
'Where are we going?' Asked the orange mare. She looked ever-so-slightly down 'I saw the libraries, if it helps.'
'The halls of the scribes are our best hope.' Luna turned her head to the forest. Dense branches and trunks speckled with flowers and moss of various shades. Thin grass and smooth rocks painted the forest floor. 'They'll help us. We have to... Tell them...' She trailed off, watching her friends' expressions.
She started walking into it.
Celestia looked at the tattered fabric that once was her dress. After much deliberation, she decided to follow her sister's example. She hesitatingly undressed, leaving the breathtaking piece laying on the shore. The vivid colours were covered by the sluggishly-moving waves. It was dragged into the lake, floating like a low cloud. She turned back to the boat, noticing the almost-translucent white dagger impaled on it. Her father's only weapon. Never used in violence. With the utmost respect, she levitated its leaf-shaped blade towards herself. She took the gold-thread belt from the dress and stored the memoir there, putting it on.
Sunflower blushed and left on her dress, seeing as it was in a better state.
They followed Luna into the thick woods, hoping to find any of the scribes.
Skipping over roots and tripping on fallen branches, they went deeper. Phoenixes flied around, fluttering like butterflies and shining like the sun. They alighted on branches without burning them. The morning-mist pooled near the floor. No path was in sight for no built path led to the lake; the children of Lerien were never very fond of taking to the waters.
Great trees reached to the skies; some had observing-crystals chained to their highest branches. Luna wondered how they had been hung there. Celestia simply marvelled and enjoyed the sight, glad there was still beauty after the pain. Sunflower was more focused on the taller mares, and cantering after them.
Grass, uncut, felt strange under their hooves.
The small party soon came upon a dirt-path, made by hooves instead of magic. Such things were uncommon in the lands of unicorns. Luna stepped into it. She looked at the two mares following her.
'I think this might lead us to the halls.' She said. Her gaze followed the path. 'At least I hope so.'
Celestia walked to the path in much the same way as her sister. Sunflower made a small cautious jump from a root she was on. They walked in the direction they assumed the scribes might be in.
A straight line of ponies continued down the narrow strip of earth. All of the forest looked the same to them. Equally beautiful, but the same. They kept a fairly quick pace. Many birds called back and forth in the distance. The path was straight, yet it felt interminable to Luna. She kept her focus on the end of it, which was shrouded in fading fog.
Luna hit her muzzle rather hard. How could she not have seen an obstruction in their path? Her eyes refocused. The tree was white and blue. It had dropped many different-sized scrolls.
'It' was a bewildered scribe. His simple garments were now covered in dust. His dark blue cloak matched Luna's coat. It was held together by a silver broach shaped like a star.
'Excuse my rudeness, but: who are you?' Asked the young stallion with the wild mane and amber eyes. His horn was so sharp Luna thanked the heavens she hadn't killed herself by bumping into him.
'We come seeking shelter, and with... important things to say.' Celestia stepped forward. Her voice was practised, as she had been taught. 'We are from Aūne-Melûmenar.'
'Why are you on my path?' He asked, apparently ignoring what 'important things' may mean. He began gathering his scrolls. 'There are many other paths. Why mine? You could've disrupted the results of my study on ambient magic as opposed to Maulïé!' His inquisitive tone about the path and annoyance at possible disruptions were all conveyed in a single breath without pause.
'We're sorry. We didn't know.' Apologised Sunflower. Luna raised a single eyebrow at the strange scribe. Sunflower had an idea: 'Um... Can you lead us back to the Halls of Lerien? Please?'
The scribe stood up. He was quite tall, though not as much as the sisters. His almost excessive thinness was hidden by the Cape of his cloak. His tail was short yet equally wild as his mane. He shrugged. 'I suppose. But you didn't answer my question. My name is Starswirl. I'm a scribe of the Tongue. Who are you?'
'My name is Celestia. This is my sister Luna and our friend Sunflower.'
He turned around, raising an eyebrow and lowering the other. He walked. 'Very well, travellers. Follow me. And take care to not fall behind.'
~~~~~
A tree of immense proportions stood proud amongst its brethren: Aūne-Lerien.
Its smooth bark was the purest white. Its leaves blood-red. It rose above everything in the forest, and even some of the mountains in the distance. From its greatest branches hung platform upon platform, all stone. These hanging platforms were only some of its many libraries and sleeping-rooms—the scribes slept communally. Massive roots anchored it to the earth. Twin rows of marble columns led to its intricately-carved gate, always open, allowing the light to flow to the outside. An ancient stone-path led to it, filled with scribes of different ranks, descriptions, and ages going back and forth, gathering their treasure: knowledge.
Starswirl's path ended upon meeting the main stone-path. The four wandering ponies incorporated themselves into the streams of unicorns headed to the gate.
'First time visiting our halls?' The young Tongue-scribe lifted his sight to the platforms. 'They are marvellous. All the knowledge in Gaia is contained within. Even I haven't read it all.' They followed the flow of the scribes.
They came to the gate. It was carved in a relief of the night sky, with many constellations upon it. The centre of the gate displayed an unfurled scroll and rune; the symbol of the House of History. It was so thick and tall it should have been impossible to close.
The inside of the tree was impossibly large. It must've been bigger on the inside. Shelves and shelves of scrolls and books, both ancient and recent, lined every available surface. A spiral staircase suited for a giant descended and ascended through the middle, as if headed to the roots and the skies. There were hallways to spare. Every single pony seemed to be carrying scrolls, or books, or writing material, or rune-stones. The three mares stared, taking it in. Starswirl continued walking with a natural pace.
Steps of the spiralling stairs stood in front of them. Celestia and Luna looked at each other. There were almost no stairs in their father's forest-halls; this staircase seemed to reach into the very clouds. The scribe began his climb. The three mares followed close behind.
'You're going to be examined with magic before entering the Chambers of the Tongue. You know that, don't you?'
'Chambers of the Tongue?' Sunflower asked the question in all the companions' heads.
'Well, yes.' Replied Starswirl. 'You're here to see the Head Scribe, I suppose.'
'Yes.' Celestia confirmed it with such confidence it seemed like that was the original plan.
They lost count of how many levels they had left below, but they still went higher. The stairs, carved from the very heart of the tree, ascended further, into the Upper Chambers.
Their tired legs finally stopped. They had arrived to the very top of the staircase. A small gateway was closed. One black-coated, the other warm yellow, the two guard-scribes to either side, armour underneath their silver cloaks, bowed their heads to Starswirl. He entered without the slightest delay. The runes in the guards' legs glowed slightly.
'Elŵa.' To find. To examine. The Word exited both mouths with perfect synchronisation. The rune, shaped like a hanging star-vine with a dot to the side, glowed in front of them. The scribes' eyes became solid purple. A magic shimmer ran through the bodies of the three mares. 'You are...' The guards paused for the slightest moment. 'Worthy. Enter.'
The small gateway shimmered open. They entered. Even incalculably high off the ground, the word any of them might've used was tunnels. Starswirl was walking some distance ahead of them, scrolls suspended in his magic. He turned right.
'I told you not to fall behind.' His tone was the one one might use for a foal. He continued walking, his hooves echoing through the walls. The three children of Melûmenar trotted after him.
Luna caught up with him first. The other two followed. Tunnels and columns were carefully carved from the marbled wood of the tree. White with pink. Every pillar and wall depicted a caster; they all looked wise and very concentrated. Each was using a different Word: Fire, Bind, Understand... Scribes walked by, muttering, memorising, studying. Reverberating speech could be heard from the chambers.
'Lûlwen.' The whisper reached all their ears, slithering in. All was cold. The floor vanished under their hooves. Then all was comfortably warm. They stood once more.
'Such a simple word. Bring.' A mare no older than fifty was in front of them. She sat with her eyes closed upon a simple wooden groove. Her cascading silver mane reached the floor. Her purple coat seemed to fade in and out of time itself. She wore nothing but a thin headpiece and wooden pieces for earrings. The chandelier that hung above her was made of roots and hanging milky crystals that coloured the light, making unclear whether it was from sun or moon. 'Yet it is also a question. One that has been asked: the moon, the sun, and the flower; what brought you here?'
Celestia opened her mouth to answer.
'One that has already been answered.' Continued the mare, unhindered. 'Your current situation has dulled the edge of that particular blade. Your emotions are muted by something, but I can still see them. I can also see they can hurt you still.'
The three mares all knew what she meant.
'And no. I am not a seer like the Elders.' She still hadn't opened her eyes. She sat perfectly straight. 'I am only perceptive. I know what I have studied. I know your tones, daughters of à Eŵen-Laulïén. You have come to see me for aid, yet this House does not wage war. You will have a place here, but we will not fight, we will talk.'
'What gives you the right?' Luna's voice was like white-hot steel being cooled in snow. Mirror streams of tears ran down her eyes. One hoof each from her sister and Sunflower alighted on both her shoulders.
'Nothing.' The purple mare said with calm. 'But you may accept or decline my offer.' She sounded merciful.
'They accept, Mesâu.' Came the pleading voice of a stallion from the corner. Starswirl's look towards them clearly meant don't be foolish.
'Be quiet.' Her voice still bore that unshakable peace. She opened ice-blue eyes, irises webbed with grey, and nodded to the visitors. 'Let them speak.'
'We accept.' Said Celestia, taking the scribe's advice. She looked at her sister, seemingly calm again. Sunflower was so silent she had almost faded into the background. 'We didn't come to you for fighting aid, merely aid. Thank you.'
'Then we shall prepare a space for you and welcome you with open hooves.' She flicked her head towards Starswirl, who still clutched his scrolls in a magic grip, with an unspoken instruction. His precious knowledge grew closer to his chest.
'Alŵen.'
Take away. The whisper echoed, louder than most shouts.
Sunlight and walls melted away. What rematerialised in front of the four ponies was a scribe sleeping-room. It was one of thousands. It was of the few unoccupied ones in the halls. Bed-rolls lay on the floor, covered in green sheets. Next to them, there was a small green chest for each. Fire-less white torches lined the walls. In one of the sides, a doorless doorframe stood.
'Well.' Starswirl looked at them. 'I suppose we should give you the afternoon to... wander.' He started walking out.
'Where are you going?' Sunflower came out from the background and asked the question gently.
'I don't sleep here.' He looked estranged by the idea. 'I have another room I rest in. Now, if you excuse me, I have to compile my notes.' He immediately walked out.
The three mares followed him with their gazes. The eccentric stallion disappeared into the hallways.
They looked at each other.
'So, then...' Said Sunflower quietly, breaking the silence. Her glass-flower cutie mark itched with embarrassment as the sisters turned to her.
'It's later than it should be.' Luna remarked. Normally, she stuck to her schedule of early mornings and late nights; she wasn't particularly fond of sleeping. But now tiredness weighed on her. Even though the night was still early, she laid on one of the bed-rolls. She put her head down on the rough pillow and tried to sleep. 'Sorry, but I must away.' As always, what little rest she had was deep, and she quickly fell asleep.
Celestia glanced at Sunflower. 'Are you tired?' She walked over to a bed-roll and sat on it. Sunflower took the one beside it. 'I don't think I have ever slept this early.'
'Me neither, mi—' She caught herself, being reminded they weren't in the forest-halls anymore. She fidgeted nervously with her hooves.
'I think we could at least try.' Celestia curled up on the meagre sleeping-space the best she could. She shivered before pulling the sheets in top of herself. The rough bedding scratched against her fur, textured like hay. The tweed sheet could barely keep out the cold of night. She buried her face on the pillow, trying to fall asleep like her sister. Her body relaxed, yet she could not sleep. Sounds of rustling sheets came from Sunflower's direction.
The white unicorn waited for tiredness in the uncomfortable material. Yet her eyes still remained open. She switched the orientation of her head. She saw movement on the adjacent bed-roll. 'You can't sleep either?' She asked in a low tone.
'Not really.' Replied Sunflower. 'It's not the bed. I used to sleep much later and less than either of you did. I just can't sleep.' She paused. 'Can I... Can I tell you something?' Her expression turned expectant.
'Yes.' Celestia hoped how much she cared about her dear friend showed through those words. 'You can tell me anything. Always.' Her best reassuring smile painted her features.
'Okay.' Sunflower's reply was muted. Celestia waited, a slight frown of concern showing through.
'I'm... Worried.' The inner sides of Sunflower's eyebrows raised up. Her ears flattened themselves. 'About you—both of you. Us. What if... What if they're still chasing us? I'm scared, Celestia.' In that moment, she sounded like a little filly begging her mum to hold her and tell her gently that everything would be alright.
'You don't need to be.' The white mare tried to comfort her. She told her the truth with a soft whisper: 'I'm scared too. I'm terrified, actually. But I have Luna. I have you. That makes the fear not seem so bad.' She didn't notice she was crying until she had finished talking. Sunflower smiled, unshed tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.
'Thank you.'
Quiet. They fell asleep shortly after. Hours of the night and early morn went by in silence.
~~~~~
Phoenix-song and scribe-horns heralded sun's ascent and the beginning of the day. Beams streamed through the openings in the walls of the sleeping-room. Already the din of multitudes of scribes returning and taking scrolls, jotting down notes, and heading to the food-hall to eat their breakfasts could be heard.
Like the sun had risen, so had Luna. She stood in the centre of the room. There were no mirrors around, so she re-braided her mane and tail blindly. She had slept in her clothes from the day before; she wondered if she could get clean ones.
As with every single space in the tree, there was rolled-up parchment and sticks of coal in abundance. She looked at the piles and started thinking of what to do. There was no event, no lessons, no private tinkering with metals and gems in her room.
Another pony soon rose from sleep. Sunflower yawned in a high pitch as she stood. Her headpiece was lopsided. She blinked rapidly. 'Good morning.' She said, half-asleep. She straightened her coronet and mane.
'Good morn.' Said Luna absentmindedly, for her thoughts were still engaged.
Sunflower walked over to where Celestia slept. The elder sister's form rose and fell blissfully as she inhaled and exhaled. A small lock of her mane was swung in the small draft of her breath.
The marigold pony hesitated, wondering if it was a good idea waking her up after all of yesterday. She had just decided against it when Celestia's ear moved.
Celestia rose on her own, mind clouded by the fog of sleep. She walked sluggishly to where her mirror might be and grasped with her magic where a basin of water had always been prepared for her to wet her face and wake up fully. She found nothing.
'Hey.' Said a small and bright familiar voice. Sunflower eyed her with concern, remembering the short conversation of the previous night and feeling the dry tears upon her cheeks. 'I can cast a mirror if you want.' Celestia looked at her with sleep-addled magenta eyes. But they were still kind and bright. 'I learned how to.'
The white mare looked at her, then around the room and to the outside. The day before and last night weren't enough to break habits of half a lifetime.
'Yes.' A smile and a yawn intersected on her face. 'Thank you.' Luna glanced back at her sister. Celestia pushed her pink mane mostly behind her ears as Sunflower conjured the mirror:
'Leâel.' The way she carefully whispered, almost sang, the word denoted much practise. Practise in such a simple thing. Her horn glowed slightly as word became reality.
A shimmering sheet of air solidified itself in front of Celestia. It waved and sparkled until it became a solid floating surface, reflecting her features back at her. The slightly-silver object worked as well as any crafted mirror. Sunflower started smoothing her mane with her magic, lacking a brush. The tall mare's face turned a light shade of red under the few pink hairs still draped over her face.
As soon as Celestia had finished making herself presentable, they all sat quietly in the middle of the sleeping-room. They were unsure of what to do. They had reached the scribes, but that was as far as their plan had gone. Luna's stomach rumbled loud enough for the others to hear.
'What is taking so long?' Asked Luna with hunger in her eyes and an empty stomach. 'Breakfast should have been brought up by this time.' She eyed the door-frame, wondering why nopony was walking through it. Sunflower spoke up.
'I don't think that's how it works here...' She added helpfully.
'What do you mean?' The dark-blue unicorn sounded genuinely confused as to the remark.
'Maybe we have to go down for breakfast?' Celestia said. She didn't eat breakfast frequently. Sunflower nodded. Luna looked to the opening once more before standing up.
Just then, a pony walked through it.
'Good morning', said all three mares in almost-unison.
'Do you bring breakfast?' Added Luna, hoping for food. Starswirl looked offended at the insinuation.
'No. I don't bring breakfast. You missed breakfast.' The hungry mare looked rather disappointed. 'The Head Scribe, however, ordered me to orient all of you. Which might include the eating-halls...' Luna's expression perked up. He smiled smugly.
The other two mares briefly dipped their head to Starswirl in greeting. He nodded in return.
'Well.' He walked out, giving Luna a sense of déjà vu. 'Come on. Follow me, then.' He signalled forward and strode forth. They did as he said, trailing behind him in a triangular shape.
Through the door was a hallway that ran through the branch, following its path. Door-frame after door-frame made from darker wood filled it, each leading to a different room. There were no scroll-nooks here, only empty beds and desks with concentrated scribes. Lavender crystals embedded on the high ceiling gave it a soft, coloured glow.
'These are the Sleeping Halls', explained the wiry robed stallion. 'They are mostly empty after First Light. I hope you memorise these hallways, the Head Scribe or I won't send you here with the Tongue every time you wish to return. I could help, but not every time.'
Walking space widened, as did the branch. An arch of great size marked the place where the branch joined the massive trunk. They were now on a balcony, circular, or rather ring-shaped. The space in front of them was open, crossed with stairs and hoof-bridges. Ring-balconies rose from the floor to the treetop. A multitude of hallways branched off from each of them.
On every level, various scribes travelled from one hallway to another, up and down steps, and through halls. Almost every one of them carried various quills, scrolls, and pieces of parchment. Some handled every type of metals, rocks, and powders with great care.
Winding up until it disappeared up above, the heart of the tree was carved with history. Upper parts of it were still smooth. It was the same beautiful red-and-white wood as the rest of the tree.
The three companions took all this in. Starswirl stood quietly by.
After they had seen the panorama, the scribe motioned them to one of the staircases, which went down into the main body of the tree. Luna followed immediately, as did Sunflower after breaking out of her admiring state. Celestia followed, having her shoulder softly tapped by Sunflower.
Down the stairs they went.
'And this is the Centre.' He said, turning his head just enough to be heard by the others. His listeners seemed to wait for more as they kept descending. 'Just the Centre. Simple name. Pragmatic. It suits it. It is what connects all the chambers and halls of the Libraries.'
'Were there not stairs here?' Asked Luna, raising an eyebrow and slowing her pace. 'Yesterday. When we entered.'
'That was not the Centre.' Replied Starswirl, with a tone that asked you listen to him speak facts. He didn't slow down. 'That was the Southern Spiral. It connects to the Centre down there.' Three sets of eyes followed his pointing horn to one of four identical arches down below.
Stairs gave way to another flat balcony. They were now only two platforms above the lower level. Walls now resembled honeycombs, filled with various categorised scrolls. Reading-desks and paths to branches were all around the level. Everypony seemed to be headed somewhere different.
'The highest floor of the Libraries', said the scribe-turned-guide with respect and a bit of wonder. 'It contains all known texts on history. They are our most precious treasure.'
Sunflower and Celestia considered the scrolls with awe. The hexagonal shelves did seem extensive enough to contain the history of the Onmêlem, perhaps even the history of all ponies. Luna glanced around. Her stomach tugged at her.
'Where did you say we could be served food?' Starswirl looked offended. Luna could think of nothing other than hunger and missing the banquet-hall of her home.
'The eating-halls...' Grumbled Starswirl. He seemed disappointed at her lack of interest for the Libraries. He sighed. 'Alŵen.'
Everything bent and disappeared.
The world came into focus. It assembled itself piece by piece. Sunflower felt disoriented, and perhaps a little sick; she was still trying to understand how somepony could use the Tongue so powerfully with such a casual demeanour. The bright orange mare could only conjure mirrors and basic Words. Luna and Celestia seemed fine.
'Here they are.' Said the wiry scribe to Luna. His tone was dry, but he regained the ghost of an ever-present satisfied smile soon enough.
'Thank you.' Midnight-blue hooves stepped forward as if nothing had happened, apparently oblivious to Starswirl's previous intonation.
Columns lower than the ones in the rest of the ancient halls stood all around. A flattened mass of roots seemed to form an incredibly long table with hundreds of places. A blazing white fire, cold in appearance yet warm in temperature, roared in a gold fireplace. Smaller trees grew from the wooden floor, filled with shining round fruit. An abundant stream of water flowed steadily down a branch into a receptacle made of curling roots; it never overflowed.
Luna approached a tree and plucked a silver fruit from its leaves. She bit it, letting the nectar fill her mouth. Celestia followed her example, giving a sound of satisfaction at the flavour. Watching them eat, Sunflower's stomach felt empty. She went towards another tree, growing some type of soft-pink berry.
Starswirl stood idly by, musing to himself about possible causes for not being awe-struck at the Libraries. He couldn't find any that were plausible.
The small mare was about to pluck her own fruit from the low yellow-leafed tree. She imagined the sweetnes... Something rustled leaves to her right.
Cold wind blew down her spine.
The scribe's ears stood. He looked around, feeling the hint of a presence.
Sunflower backed away, her tail swishing rapidly.
Leaves moved again. The unnatural wind picked up.
Celestia and Luna had begun to notice too. They looked nervously to their friend, then to each other, then to Starswirl.
A figure leapt from the foliage. Blinding speed. It crashed into Sunflower. She yelped. The figure growled gutturally; a predator assessing how to kill. Hunger. Heavy iron boots crushed Sunflower's shoulders and back hooves, preventing her from escape. It looked like a warped pony. Frost-bitten coat bristled. Sharpened teeth, snarling, and grey empty eyes bore into her heart. She shook. A cold tear ran down her face. Icy fear filled her veins. She whimpered helplessly.
Starswirl and Luna broke from their horrified trance.
The lean mare ran to the creature. She shouted: 'Êm!' Strike. Nothing happened. The predator turned its eyes to her. It blowed, as if blowing a candle out. Luna's hooves were frozen in place. She grunted, trying to free herself.
Starswirl grit his teeth. His eyes burned. He spoke in a voice cold enough to rival the creature, the monster:
'Let me tell you the rules: I care nothing for who you are, or what you are. You don't enter the Libraries without permission.' He took one step forward. 'You don't hurt ponies in the Libraries.'
The monstrosity laughed. It was cracking and infinitely echoing. The sound of ice shifting.
'My master has no business with you, child of the stars.' Its voice was a blizzard, a storm-wind. It rose, leaving a heavily-breathing Sunflower on the floor. It floated in an unseen haunted gale. 'He only seeks the sun and the moon. And their companion.'
The scribe took a weak step back. His mouth was encased in a cage of frost.
It turned its twisted face to the three companions. Celestia was still in a shock. She breathed heavily. Sunflower had crawled next to her.
'With you my master has business. I am but a messenger, like the farmer.' It tilted its head in contempt. 'But I bring a less... violent message. I don't reap the fruit. I just lead the waters to the orchard. I am sorry to say the deaths were... necessary...' Luna struggled against the ice furiously, but it was unmovable.
'Here is my message:' It's voice became deeper, sounding far-away. 'Even in these halls of stone, I am not contained. The Ernyalëm shield me. So come. Come on down, daughters of the forest-sky, to the roots of the mountains. Down to Tāhros-Mïrn... Come find me.' It laughed from afar.
'Melwé!' Bind. The frost-cage on Starswirl's mout shattered into splinters. The creature was wrapped in conjured bindings. It struggled, foaming at the mouth. They did not loosen, binding it tighter.
'Aûyl!' Down. It crashed to the floor. It writhed. The floor cracked. It breathed snow from its mouth and nose. Ice shot from its hooves.
'I cast you out!' Shouted Starwirl. Every ice-binding broke. 'You cannot return! You are powerless! You are imprisoned! Cast away!'
'Ûlmé ā Anya!' It has been spoken.
Smoke. The twisted monster evaporated into black smoke and white ash. Frost melted; what was left disappeared.
Starswirl breathed through his mouth, trying to recover some strength.
'Did you... kill it?' Came Celestia's soft, hesitant voice. An orange figure was curled up to her side, shaking. Luna shivered.
'No... The... Tongue... isn't supposed to... wound.' His voice was weak. His legs folded. He laid his chest on the floor. 'Need to... speak... Mesâu...' His head rested on the wood.
He slept...
