Prolouge

A pack of blazing fire outlined the chimney edges, stretching onwards to the wooden, decorated floor. The rest of Twilight's surroundings were shrouded in shadows, swallowing their way up to her tail. Its warmness scorched the alicorn's back, prompting her into unfurling her wings. Everything else was serene, further supported by the flickering moonlight filtering through the golden-framed window overhead—yet it still didn't match the sudden appearance of an off-white princess all ponies knew and loved, lying on a rich, purple cushion before the contained flames and Twilight. Her shoeless front hooves enveloped a cup of warm chocolate milk.

"Do you need me to adjust that?" Twilight asked Princess Celestia, preparing to wrack up the magic within her by the magenta-colored aura of her horn.

"You've served me enough already, Twilight," Celestia's hoarse whisper drifted back, contrary to the glint of mischief in the elder pony's eyes as she added, "I think I can lift that cup up by myself."

Twilight watched on with worry as Celestia strained for her sunny magic field; only a spark bounced off and onto the cup, dissolving into nothing faster than it struck. Her former mentor gauged it for a few moments, expression impassive, though it soon gave way to despondence. Releasing a soft sigh, the monarch then situated her head back on her hooves, as if she'd lost the will to keep her chin high.

Twilight instantly levitated the cup over to Celestia's side, who all but stared at it before averting her violet gaze to Twilight's. "Twilight," she began, earning younger ruler's utter attention. "They're approaching. They're going to disrupt the chaos. You know that, don't you?"

Twilight's heart sank. "Yes, Your Majesty," she whispered, keen on keeping her voice contained. This had to strike sooner or later, she mused—she just didn't think it was going to be so abrupt and straight to the point. Another symptom of Celestia's changing demeanor.

"Trying to keep them at bay will be a very difficult job—which won't last, might I add. With me, you, the rest of the alicorns, and Flurry Heart here…" Celestia's ears folded against her head, and for a moment her ancient age was reflected in the dim spark of her depthless eyes. "I always knew this would mark instability, yet…"

"Celestia, no…" The words tore at Twilight's heart like the teeth of a malicious hydra. "The alicorns are needed here, and they can't back down because of a threat. You're needed here."

Celestia stared at Twilight for a moment, a moment that seemed to last for moons, before she dropped her eyes back to her hooves. "I am powerless against them." Her words were strained and sour. "I cannot stop them, nor can all of us together. We don't even morph into a quarter of the powers they possess."

Twilight's scalp prickled. Celestia wasn't even trying to feign confidence anymore.

This was more dangerous than all the foes Equestria had faced before.

And she sort of understood why. She acknowledged the fact that Celestia was trying to be honest with her, to finally discuss it thoroughly—but this wasn't what she expecting. Never in a million years did she anticipate seeing the ruler of Equestria—her mentor ever since she was a tiny filly—so helpless. And what if this doesn't have to do with propriety and trust? I've seen her before. Her hooves trembled, and she tucked them out of the fellow princess' prying eyes. She's changed.

That certainly didn't help her immense nausea, either. Sure, she had ginormous wings now, an elongated horn, and a shining tiara, but she couldn't for the sake of her homeland extract her habitual anxieties. Her six best friends not by her side fueled her fear even more—even Starlight, her current pupil, couldn't attend, having been busy visiting her childhood companion, Sunburst. Starlight had apologized greatly, fearing that the lack of her presence would displease Twilight, but she'd shaken her head then.

"Thank you, Starlight," Twilight had said, shooting the pale pony a sincere smile, "but I need to do this on my own. It's my duty as a princess."

Starlight had shuffled her hooves for a moment, her reluctance clear in the faded castle suit, but then she had given a tight nod none-too-late. "Thank you," she'd echoed feebly. Her mouth had remained agape for a moment, as if she'd wanted to say something, but she'd eventually turned on her hoof and departed in a hurry.

Yet while granting Starlight the chance of seeing her best friend from far away made sense, Twilight couldn't help the regret that simmered beneath her skin at being exposed to such an intense discussion alone again. I wish I'd brought one of the girls with me, she thought mournfully. Unethical or ethical, Twilight could feel the pretense of calmness abandoning her in a drain, all the way from her ears to the intricate threshold the duo were perched upon, one proving the need for that more than the other. In front of Celestia—the new, dull, lifeless Celestia—Twilight was powerless.

"I don't think we can win this, Twilight. Not against them."

Twilight shivered, terror seizing control of her limbs. We must! She shrieked silently. She knew Celestia was right, really she did, but the idea of giving up was… foreign—especially when it was shoved forth by Celestia, the most powerful being in Equestria, the habitants' savior. I can't believe it… I can't hear any of this anymore…

She finally unleashed the anxiety of numerous days.

"No!" She snapped, banging front hooves on the ground before them, the blood roaring in her ears like the massive explosion of a volcano. "I will not let them win!"