Author's Note

I realize it's been some time since the last update, so feel free to view this recap of Chapter One if necessary:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1bS3HMLwNMvgnorzehRxLNnbLvvB1JS4lQhSpR38iqAk/edit?usp=sharing

Also as a small warning, Resurgence has been developing without the aid of an editor, so mistakes may appear. In this case, please do not hesitate to point them out in the comments.

Thank you for your patience, and please enjoy.

First Dawn

The streets of Canterlot lie bathed in bright summer light, worn cobblestone trampled under hundreds of hooves as the high-class ponies of the city crowd around a peculiar spectacle. It’s a stone statue—perhaps six feet high—depicting a mother and father figure walking with their young, smiling daughter. The family isn’t cantering about on all fours like the ponies around them, however. In fact, the trio are not ponies at all; the statues are carved in the image of humans.

Many similarly intriguing items rest behind the statue, under the alcove a large building’s second story creates. A group of excited fillies and colts gather around a wide poster depicting three Homo sapien men, listed as “Thomas Edison”, “Nikola Tesla”, and “Alexander Graham Bell”. The children’s eager hooves press against the glass of orb set up beneath the poster, electrical arcs lapping against their touch. Another attraction in the shade of the same alcove shows framed photos of cityscapes that reach unfathomable heights, large metal structures that break through the clouds above.

Many exhibits still can be found waiting inside the building, a long line of well dressed and unusually excited ponies trailing from the entrance and into the streets. Amateur entrepreneurs are drawn to the scene as well. One bearded stallion walks back and forth along the line of potential customers, advertising his soft drinks as “Equestria’s first batch of Coca-Cola”.

Despite the palpable wonder and excitement that fills the air, several nude ponies working in the shade of a nearby tree have been drawn by a different emotion: fear. They shuffle their hooves in any direction they sense it, poaching citizens on their way to the museum with ramblings of secret human weapons, and the inevitable downfall of their civilization. The Canterlot guards eye the pack suspiciously, as they attempt to hoof out several more of their brightly colored pamphlets.

* * *

A knock on the door draws the house owner up out of his chair, and to the entrance. Upon opening the wooden door, the stallion standing inside is greeted by a scowling pegasus with a bright, rainbow mane.

“You Aegis?”

The stallion freezes at the directness of the question, stuttering as he quickly glances over the black, flexible padding that adorns the pegasus. “Yes, is there… something wrong?” The rainbow-maned pony turns just enough so that the brightly colored pamphlet tucked under her wing is facing the stallion.

“I’d like to talk a bit about your ‘movement’.”

Aegis puts up no resistance to the inquiring pegasus, and soon the two are facing one another in the living room, the bright light pouring over the Canterlot streets seeping through the large window facing the profiles of both ponies. The room is in impeccable condition; green curtains and carpet, striped wallpaper and mahogany furniture, including the table situated between Aegis and his guest.

“So!” Come the first words in the room, from a thin mare in a lace dress. “Can I offer you anything…? A cup of tea, perhaps?”

The lightly armored pegasus breaks her focus with the stallion, and turns to respond to his wife. “Uh, no I’m alright, thank you ma’am.” The mare smiles just a little wider and nods, a tinge of concern in her eyes when she turns to Aegis next.

“I’d love some, dear.” With another smile and enthused nod, the mare takes off for the kitchen, leaving the other two ponies alone in the room.

Aegis stays quite, simply watching the pegasus on his couch as she looks over the pamphlet held in her wing. “‘The Equestrians’... it’s a bit confusing, don’t you think?”

Aegis inhales and moves his hooves away from his chin before responding. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I got your name?”

The pegasus glares up from the table as she places the pamphlet down on it. “It’s Rainbow Dash. Equestrian Special Forces.”

“Ah...” begins the older stallion. “Well you see Ms. Dash, it’s about an ideology… and now that that ideology is threatened, I couldn’t imagine a more appropriate title.”

“‘Threatened ideology’?” Rainbow scoffs at the pony. “You worried your grandkids might try a Pop-Tart or something?”

The older stallion places his faded red hooves on the arms of the chair as he snickers at the officer’s comment. “Right now, the storm is merely on the horizon. But I assure you, the lightning will soon be at our doorstep.”

Dash’s mane falls over her face as she plants it into her forehooves. “Look, I couldn’t care less what your reasoning is, but this—” her skyblue hoof presses against the pamphlet on the table “—this has to stop, alright?”

“My mares have done nothing illegal.” Aegis drones back at the pegasus.

“Nothing illegal?” She starts, with narrowed eyes and the signature cracks in her voice beginning to show. “How about ‘disturbance of the peace’, or ‘inciting a panic’?” Aegis sits calmly and stares as Rainbow Dash gets more worked up, wings flared out. “If I have to respond to one more call up here, I’m making the trip with a warrant for—”

“Here you are, dear!” The mare in a lace dress returns suddenly to the room, cautiously holding a silver tray with tea and crackers in her levitation. Dash and Aegis both turn to face her, the older stallion welcoming her back with a warm smile.

“Thank you, so much.” The tray is eased down onto the table with their combined magic. The mare almost immediately focuses her uncomfortably enthusiastic attention to Rainbow next.

“Are you sure I can’t make you a cup?”

The pegasus shuffles her hooves and clears her throat, as she prepares to make her way to the door. “No that’s alright, I was just on my way out. I think Aegis and I have said everything that needed to be said.”

“Absolutely.” The stallion replies in a gruff but optimistic tone. Rainbow Dash and Aegis stare a moment longer, then the pegasus turns with a scowl on her face and heads for the door.

The mare in a lace dress only smiles wider just before the door closes. “Thank you officer!”

With the pegasus gone, the brightly lit room again returns to a peaceful ambiance, with only the chirping of the birds and distant hoofsteps of the Canterlot Elite audible. Aegis continues to watch the door where Dash once stood, a pleasant smile still resting on his lips. His wife places a hoof on his shoulder, and the two share a loving look with one another, Aegis gently levitating the teacup toward his muzzle as the smoke curls up into the light.

* * *

The sun sets over the fields of Equestria, and one of many trains that travel the land sits motionless at its station. As the last of its passengers file out of the door, a mother watches over her excited colt on the side opposite the station, the young boy eagerly waiting for the engine to start again. Eventually that’s just what happens, and the colt grows more excited as the metal components whine back to life, and the chimney bellows out a new pillar of smoke. In the cab, the driver notices the pair off to the side, and gives his pull cord a tug to emit a loud—and, going by the child’s reaction—exciting whistle.

Soon all of the cars follow behind, and leave the station full of reunited families and eager tourists. In the center, however, is someone who stands alone. A diamond dog with no bags, and a faded orange cap on his head. Once the station clears out enough so that he can move without bumping into anyone else, the diamond dog maneuvers to the stairs leading off of the platform, and into the grass and wheat filled fields below.

Cave’s trek leads him to the edge of the woods, where oaks blow gently in the warm breeze, and the sun filters through their leaves. The diamond dog stops for a moment to observe his destination: a small cottage with a cobblestone foundation, and a thatched roof.

The wooden door rattles against its hinges as Cave knocks against it. Inside, a diamond dog with a dark, mottled pattern on his face cautiously peeks through the door’s window. At the sight of Cave standing motionlessly on the outside, the creature’s jaw slowly lowers, and his gaze stays frozen as a second knock occurs.

A large griffon in the kitchen looks up from her card game and stares at the scene near the front door. “Who the hell is it?”

The diamond dog loses his trance, and spins his head around to the griffons behind him. Without answering to her and her annoyed claw gesture, he instead opens the door for the fleeting sunlight to reveal their guest.

The sight of Cave immediately silences the house, the griffon’s cigarette rolling slowly back and forth in her beak as she grimaces at the scene. The second griffon at the table turns in his chair and stares, dumbfounded. Every occupant of the house is frozen, save Cave, who walks confidently into the kitchen and up to the card table. He takes a short look at the mess on the table, before honing in on a bottle and taking it with him to the countertops. As he removes a glass and pours a shot of liquor, the remaining diamond dog closes the door and approaches the kitchen to watch.

The refreshingly strong drink washes over Cave, who closes his eyes and pauses to simply enjoy the reunion. All the while, the house occupants remain silent and confused behind him.

Finally, Cave turns to face the others, and with a drink still in his paw, asks “Where’s my cut?”

Confused glances are shared between the others, before the large female griffon speaks up. “Cave. We thought you were gone.”

The diamond dog takes another sip of his drink before stepping toward the card table. “Well, I’m here, aren’t I?” The pads on his feet lightly clack against the kitchen tiles as he approaches even closer to the griffons.

Before Cave can actually reach the table, the other diamond dog firmly places a paw on his shoulder. “Hey, just watch—”

Cave swings his arm around and pins the other creature against the pillar between the kitchen and the living room, pressing against his throat. “Do you have my end? Huh?”

The younger, male griffon’s wings unfurl as he stands from his chair. Only a gesture from the one still sitting stops him from making a move.

“Fuck you, you got yourself caught—” The diamond dog spits out in a raspy, gasping voice. Cave snarls at the comment, pushing harder against his victim until a voice behind him cuts in.

“Arnold. Give him the bits.”

Eyes narrowed and muzzle strained, Arnold notions down to the belt around his waist. Cave keeps his gaze locked onto the other diamond dog, but reaches down with his free paw to feel for items hanging from the belt. Upon locating a purse, and hearing the familiar jingle of coins within, Cave releases his victim and steps back.

Arnold falls to his knees and endures a coughing fit, cursing Cave in between gasps of air. Even so, the scene fails to drag Cave from his stare down with the griffon. The kitchen window casts a blood-red square of light against one side of her face, illuminating the scar above her eye, and smoke rising from her cigarette.

Having retrieved what he’d come for, Cave backpedals slowly toward the door, and the two griffons simply watch him leave as the diamond dog on the floor continues to cough out a string of profanities. Only the female griffon continues to watch the door after it’s closed, a calculative scowl worn on her face.

* * *

The bright morning sun beats down on the ivory stone walls of Canterlot, birds flying over the clear blue skies. A gentle breeze rustles the violet curtain that hangs over an open window in one of the city’s taller towers, the room’s occupants sitting at a large wooden table in quiet discussion with one another. At one end sits Princess Celestia, a well-practiced smile wrapped over her lips as she divulges political and economical statistics with those seated around her.

At the other end of the table, is Princess Twilight, who watches her cohorts with skittish eyes and a smile not quite as confident as her mentor’s.

“—and that’s nothing to say of tourism. Last week alone saw an effective doubling of ships arriving from foreign shores; and we can expect that trend to grow in coming months.”

Dominus rouses from his slumped back position in a chair next to Celestia to respond to the Councilwoman’s concerns. “Surely you’re not concerned the influx of bits is a matter worth worrying over…” The dragon answers with a playful smile and a half-chuckle directed toward the elderly Councilman to his left, who responds with a quick smirk and nod before returning his lifeless gaze to the table before him.

“I assure you, Temporis, my concerns are no jest.” The mare pauses and allows Dominus Temporis to settle back into his chair, letting her proceed without interruption. “More foreign traffic means more foreign shipments, of which we simply won’t have the mare-hours to properly inspect.”

Princess Celestia leans over the table as she steps in with her own thoughts on the matter. “Councilwoman Velvet, I’ve been overseeing the expansion of security protocol personally, and rest assured, Canterlot is on top of it. We’re prepared to safely manage traffic eight times that of the recorded average.”

“Might actually be reaching those numbers before this whole thing’s over.” A short, tan earth pony mutters from the other end of the table. A few of the council members ‘hmm’ or nod in agreement with the sentiment, as Celestia issues a warmer than usual smile at her star pupil from across the room.

“I’m sorry—” A unicorn with spectacles begins, packing up his notes as he proceeds. “—but I have a meeting with griffon diplomats over drinks this evening, and I’ve had trouble with reservations at The Azure Garden in the past, so…”

Dominus Temporis responds without moving his arm slumped over the arch of his chair. “Yes Raymond, you’d best be on your way so you can manage your reservations at The Azure Garden, upscale winery and cultural peak of the Western world.” A few of the room’s members chuckle quietly as Raymond shoots the relaxed dragon a scowl.

“You may depart.” Celestia’s smile remains as she responds, but with not even the shadow of a laugh. The hurrying unicorn nods his head in thanks, then makes his way to the only door in the room, ornate candle holders on either side. Before discussion can resume, the princess first refers to her younger co-ruler, sitting quietly at the other end of the table. “Twilight, did you not have plans for today?”

Twilight’s violet eyes dart nervously from the door to the alicorn across from her. The young princess tries her hardest to not focus on all of the gazes pointed in her direction. “Oh, it’s okay, I can stay.”

“Nonsense,” Celestia begins while standing up. “we can manage it from here. Let me walk you out.”

Twilight sheepishly pushes herself away from the table as Celestia walks around. “Oh… okay.”

As the princess makes her way out of the room with the elder alicorn, she manages one last glance at the room’s occupants. Only Dominus stares back, a comforting smile resting on his scaly muzzle.

The wooden door to the tower room closes with a creak and a thud, and Princess Celestia unfurls one of her wings so that it presents the stone staircase before the two of them. “After you...”

Twilight turns and carefully takes the first step of many on her descent away from the room, Princess Celestia following closely behind. The light, warm scent of a summer meadow cascades over the younger alicorn, who always felt a tinge of nostalgia when in close proximity to Celestia’s glow.

Once in the lobby below, the two princesses step out onto the carpeted wood and under the slowly rotating fan, the sun again removing the need for any artificial light as it pour through the windows.

“Would you like an escort to the museum?”

Twilight twists her face in confusion at the princess’s question. “You know me better than that.”

“I suppose I’m just no closer to understanding your reasoning.” Celestia delivers in a low, uncommonly sad tone. “Please give your friends my regards.”

Just as the floor creaks with Celestia’s rotation away, her co-ruler speaks out. “Princess—I really can stay, you know. My friends would understand.”

A mare sitting patiently against the wall with a cream coat and a briefcase at her hooves watches with great interest as the elder alicorn retorts. “I’ve no doubt they would. But have faith in my experience Twilight; those ponies upstairs have made all the progress they will today within the first half-hour.”

Not quite satisfied but at least understanding, Princess Twilight smiles and makes a sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh.

“The Council will see you now.” Celestia is talking to the other mare in the room now, the one with the cream coat and bright red high heels. She smiles and nods, bringing her briefcase in her telekinetic grasp as she follows the princess through the door.

Twilight stands frozen, mouth hung slightly agape and pupils in chase of those red heels as they slip beyond the doorway. Celestia closes the door without looking back at Twilight, leaving the young alicorn alone in the sunlit lobby.

* * *

The sun’s rays fall over more than just the peak of Canterlot Mountain. One of these places are the new-made streets of Ghastly Gorge; of which there are exactly two. The cobblestone crossroads lay in the middle of a wide, open field, almost all of the buildings filled with cheap wares, and stale food. Even now, at midday, no more than a couple dozen ponies walk the streets. And even fewer sit out back behind The Crooked Spoon; where the tables rest in the shadow of the surrounding buildings, and a decorative iron fence is the only thing separating the restaurant’s patrons from the muddy alleyways that surround them.

In fact only two sit here. One, a grayish unicorn with a short black mane and a pair of sunglasses resting over it; and the other, a thin diamond dog wearing a faded orange hat.

“This was a real pain in the ass to get arranged.” The unicorn remarks, just as he begins to slather butter on a slice of bread with his telekinesis. “You know that, right?”

Cave places his crossed arms on the table and watches the pony closely. “I’ll make it worth your while. I just need one thing.”

The unicorn eyes Cave suspiciously as he finishes buttering his meal. Before responding, he opts to first try the food with a large bite out of its side, the bread crunching suspiciously loud as he does so.

“Fuck’s sake…” He comments around a mouthful of hard bread. “No wonder this place’s barely in business.”

Cave sighs as the unicorn across from him goes for a drink of water next. A paw feels out around the edge of his hat, gripping a thin piece of charcoal from behind his ear and bringing in down to the table. His other paw reaches out, and slides a clean napkin toward the edge nearest to him. The diamond dog begins to make a rough sketch as the unicorn’s glass of water finally comes back down onto the table.

“‘One thing’ could mean a lot of things in my line of work, bud. We talking records, research, weapons—”

“What’s your access to The Vault like?”

At this, the unicorn’s expression grows tighter with scrutiny. A moment of silence finds its way into the conversation, where the distant laughter and shouting in the streets echoes through the back alleys and fills the void.

“I’m one of the closest. Doesn’t mean anything from there is gonna be affordable, if it’s even doable at all.”

Cave stares at the unicorn, noticing the conviction in his voice that seemed to appear from nowhere. After a moment, his eyes drop below again, and he continues his sketch on the little napkin. “First,” Cave begins. “I need to know if it exists…”

The diamond dog puts the final touches on his messy sketch, then slides the napkin across the table for his business partner to inspect. After a quick glance, the unicorn inhales sharply and picks up his glass.

“Yeah, they exist.” With the glass nearing his lips, he stares off toward the brick wall to their right, just on the other side of the muddy alley.

“Well—can you get me one?”

The Retriever nearly chokes on his water as his telekinesis takes the glass away mid-sip. “What?” He asks in an annoyed—but still hushed—tone.

Cave shrugs, opening his relaxed paws on the table and exposing the dirty claws that adorn them. “Can you get me one?”

There’s a clink against the table as the unicorn quickly places his drink down in disbelief. “If I had that kind of power, I’d be using it to get Princess Celestia to tongue my asshole while her sister sucks me off, not sitting in this shithole town and peddling goods to a crook!”

The diamond dog backs his paws up off of the table, instead holding them in the air before him. “Alright, just—” Cave stares cautiously around at the empty tables that surround the two of them.

“There are maybe a dozen—in existence. Forget about it.” He takes a moment to lean back into his chair and stare up at the clear blue sky above, boxed in by the peaks of the surrounding buildings like a frame over a photo. “I don’t know why’d you need one anyway, you could just take a train like a normal pony…”

“The trains don’t go where I’m headed.” Cave leans back in the table as he says so, closely watching The Retriever as he stares back with his brow raised in confusion.

“And where’s that, exactly?”

The diamond dog’s cold gaze tightens for a moment. Then it drops, and Cave slides back into his chair and away from the gray unicorn that sits across from him.

“Fuck me.” It’s a statement said as dryly as the untouched bread that rests before the pony. “My clients are always a real treat, I’ll tell ya…”

He takes a moment to give his eyes a break from looking at the mottled diamond dog, and to rub a hoof against his temple. The sensation sends him to a bit of a lull, allowing his composure to be regained, and for the sigh that’s been building up to finally release. “Alright, listen. I don’t give a fuck what you want with one, but I can’t do it.” Hearing this does little to amuse Cave, who looks away from the unicorn and toward the untouched glass of water that rests before him. “...but I might be able to get you blueprints.”

Cave’s eyes shoot back up, renewed interest brewing within them. “Blueprints?”

“Yeah, you know, design documents and shit—but don’t think this’ll come in a cute little pamphlet and a plastic bag with screws stapled on the back, this is the real deal, and I have no—” He pauses at the sound of a new customer entering the restaurant's interior, and a wave of muffled jeering and laughter reaches the two men. “...I have no way of knowing if a full assembly is even possible, that’s on you.”

Cave nods understandably. “If it’s the best I can get. Should we talk pricing?”

Tossing his hoof up in an exaggerated response, The Retriever leans back in to respond. “That’s the other thing, this whole process is going to be fucking expensive, starting with our transaction—”

The unique clink of bits bumping together cut the unicorn off as Cave drops a pouch onto the table. “Will this do?”

The pony’s stare bounces back between Cave and the newfound item resting between the two of them. After a small snicker, he brings the pouch close to his muzzle with his magic, and opens it to inspect. Cave watches patiently as the unicorn’s expression turns from a snide, twisted smirk, to a small frown of disbelief.

Once the unicorn finally looks up, he sees Cave, with an unassuming look and a little shrug, like what The Retriever had before him couldn’t buy a bookshelf of human literature. “...You’re a little high.” He says, as his telekinesis removes a few of the bits from the bag.

“Keep it.” The diamond dog doesn’t hesitate to respond. “Consider it a tip for the great job I expect you to do; and for the honesty.” Before his business partner can even respond, Cave stands up, the metal chair grating against the cement as he does so. “Remember to consider the capacity of our engineers, when you’re looking for a model.”

And with that, he heads off. The unicorn is only just barely able to stop him as he too pushes his chair back and reaches out with a hoof. “Whoa whoa, hold on a second…”

The eyes of the two creatures meet for a moment, as the stallion struggles to create words. After managing no more than a couple scoffs and glances back to the pouch sitting on the table, he asks the first clear question he can think of. “...How’d you get out of that tower; back at Baltimare?”

Cave goes quiet. His eyes grow just a little narrower, and his torso pulls back just a hair.

“Look, it’s my job to know stuff. It doesn’t affect our deal, alright? I just… I mean, obviously you’ve got quite a bit of cash…” The pony stares off into the distance as he’s given more time to think about it. “I’m just—curious.”

The shadow of Cave’s cap reaches just beneath his black nose, and his ears twitch as they instinctively hone in on the muffled, unintelligible conversations coming from inside. His nose, detecting the sweat the stallion had produced under the thick summer heat, and the slightest tinge of piss and garbage; hidden behind the staff’s best efforts and their cheap perfume. “...Get me what I need, as soon as possible. You pick the next spot.”

Cave never once turns around as he makes his way back inside, and to The Crooked Spoon’s entrance. The grayish unicorn left outside can do nothing but shake his head, snicker once more, and find his seat as he drops the pouch of bits into his lap. He can’t help but glance again at the crumpled napkin left on the table, Cave’s sketch scrawled over it.

It’s a strange thing. Like a carriage, but with no spot for a pony to actually pull it.

* * *

The soothing sound of jazz emanates all around Twilight and her friends, swirling white masonry and massive hedges adorning the balcony they dine at. The live band can be viewed easily from the brass railing just a couple of feet from their table, the stage set amidst more decorative shrubbery, and backdropped by a brilliant, violet sky. The ponies seated before the band, and at tables surrounding the princess, are dressed with extravagance to match the architecture; no diamond bracelet or white-cuffed hoof resting from the hoofshakes and champagne toasts.

Twilight sits at one end of her table with a smile on her muzzle and a twinkle in her eye. It had been quite some time since she last had the evening to spend with her friends, even if several of them were absent. Starlight Glimmer sits immediately to the alicorn’s right, watching with a mixture of suspense and amazement as Pinkie Pie moves a piece of decorative cake much too large for the server it rests on over her plate.

“This has been so wonderful, Twilight. Thanks so much for inviting us.” Even as Starlight directs her comment to Twilight, she can’t help but keep the piece of cake’s slow journey in her peripheral vision.

“Of course!” The princess excitingly begins. “I only wish everypony was able to make it… I know Rarity would love this.”

Applejack leans in from her spot on Twilight’s left. “Yeah, never thought I’d see her turn down an invite to a fancy gig like this… poor girl must be workin’ herself to death.”

“Oh, I can’t even begin to imagine the stress of running multiple successful businesses.” The second voice comes from a stallion with a light yellow coat sitting next to Applejack. “She’s quite accomplished for her age.”

A.J. rolls her eyes before the stallion can go any further. “Your brand’s already partnered with her, Julep. You don’t have to kiss her ass anymore.”

“No, I—” The stallion’s stammering does little to impede the torrent of laughter that comes from the other ponies. Mint Julep and Applejack had been together for almost a year now, a fact found to be most surprising by almost anypony that learns it. Applejack would never admit it, but even her iconic accent had been affected, the mare striving for change after hearing how her husband had found it ‘adorable’.

After the laughter dies down, the last pony at the table—the end opposite of Twilight—reverts the conversation back to its previous state. “...Well if there’s one pony who can handle all that work, it’s Rarity.” The rest of the guests nod and ‘hmm’ in agreement with Rainbow Dash, who rests in her chair with a relaxed hoof thrown over its back.

As if on queue, the song comes to a lurid finish with hooves clopping in applause as Princess Twilight eagerly attempts to propel the night forward. “...So, should we head down to the museum?”

Pinkie Pie is the first to respond, mouth puckering out in an ‘O’ shape as her eyes light up. “Oooooh, the hue-mens.”

The rest of the party show their excitement as well, albeit, in a fashion much less theatrical than Pinkie. Everyone except for Rainbow Dash; who breathes in, and begins to push herself from the table. “Actually I’m pretty tired, and I’ve got loads of paperwork to do tomorrow.”

Twilight is the first to show her disappointment. “Aw, you sure? You don’t wanna see all the new and exciting technologies?”

“Technically,” Starlight mockingly inserts herself into the exchange. “It’s old and exciting technology.” Rainbow shakes her head as the princess gives her best ‘really?’ look toward Glimmer’s playful smirk.

“Heh… I’m sure I’ll be seeing it a lot over these next few months. You guys go on ahead.”

In near unison, the other ponies at the table all stand up to each hug and wish their friend well; or at least awkwardly go for a hoofshake, as in the case of Mint Julep. Twilight Sparkle hangs on to each of their embraces for a particularly long time—she’d done it that way for a while now.

The violet sky casts a surreal light over the ponies on the balcony. The same light bathing the band below, as they begin a short tuning session before the next song.

* * *

The halls of the museum are wide and dimly lit, contrast to the bright display cases that dot the walls and centers of almost every room. The light draws sharply detailed and bizarrely shaped shadows behind the exhibits; shadows of tools, miniature cityscapes, and of thin, hairy creatures walking upright amidst their fabricated environments.

Princess Twilight and her friends drift around a particularly eye-catching display. It’s a wax figure of an early man, his spear-wielding arm arched back and an expression of primal rage frozen over his face. The ground beneath him is cracked, and dry; only dead roots and small stones inhabiting the dirty surface. A second figure—a boar, of some kind—cowers in fear at the feet of the larger creature.

“Seem like a real friendly bunch.” A.J.’s comment draws a few quiet laughs from the group, with the exception of Twilight, who grumbles under her breath.

“Trust me, putting this up in the front was certainly not my decision…”

Canterlot guards stand quietly at many of the doorways, keeping a watchful eye over the ponies as they snake their way through the exhibits. The guards’ presence goes mostly unnoticed by the mares, only Princess Twilight’s nervous glance occasionally shifting over their dark, unmoving silhouettes, like mimics of the many wax figures that populate the halls.

The young alicorn had been doing a fantastic job at answering the others’ questions regarding the ancient race; even if some of them were simply musings spoken aloud, rather than actual inquisitions. No one who knew Twilight was surprised to learn that she had studied most of the newfound material available publicly, and in some instances, the material that wasn’t. Twilight Sparkle had always found comfort in reading as much as time would allow her.

One of Applejack’s observations in particular draws Twilight’s attention. “Why is it that our society looks like it came out from somewhere here in the middle—” The mare’s hoof waves over a long banner with dates. “—and not what these guys had done near the end?”

“Well…” Twilight begins, with a smile impossible to contain. “...we’re still trying to work that one out, but our best estimates point to a mass extinction event.”

“A mass extinction event?” Starlight Glimmer asks, with an eyebrow raised. “That as self-explanatory as it sounds?”

The princess nods her head and begins to walk toward the end of the timeline. “Yes. You see, the humans had mentioned several of them, but they were all before recorded history. So when we discovered that their meticulous records suddenly stopped around here—” A violet hoof presses up against a section near the end of the timeline ominously labeled ‘The Dark Years’. “—our conclusion was that some kind of large scale disaster had wiped them out; probably geological.”

“But not us?” Applejack asks bluntly.

“...Well, when recorded history began to reappear again—it was ours. All mentions of humanity seemed to just vanish.”

“Geez.” The farm pony says plainly as she looks over a miniature city reconstruction. “Canterlot’s gonna have a lot of explaining to do.”

As the ponies nod quietly in agreement, Twilight looks over her shoulder, and gasps in horror.

“Pinkie!”

The pink earth pony recoils back from her upsettingly close inspection of a suit of armor, taking her hooves off of the wooden pedestal it’s held on top of. “Sorry! Sorry…”

Soon after the incident, the ponies continue their slow odyssey through the alien world, Twilight keeping a particularly close eye on Pinkie as she bounces carelessly down the halls. Eventually, the group falls apart a bit, the princess wandering off in thought and space, while Applejack and her husband peer in interest at a set of human tools mounted under a bright spotlight.

Starlight Glimmer pauses to look around at her friends. A.J. and Mint Julep stand behind her, smiling and conversing with one another with voices barely audible to Starlight. She watches as Julep feigns pain in his shoulder after his partner laughs at one of his comments and lightly swings a hoof at him; or, perhaps the stallion was genuinely expressing pain.

At the end of the room and in front of Starlight is Twilight, back turned to her friends as she halfheartedly spins a globe around. Starlight frowns, then reaches out to gently tap on the back of Pinkie Pie just as the mare happily begins to canter in the princess's direction.

“Hey, Pinkie…”

The earth pony instantly replaces her grin with pursed lips and wide eyes, leaning in to listen to Starlight’s hushed comment.

“Uh… see Applejack and Mint Julep over there?”

The unicorn directs her friend’s attention over to the couple with a subtle nod of her head.

“I’ve heard A.J.’s got a new apple pie recipe—”

“Interesting…” Pinkie needlessly interjects.

“—yeah, well, I’ve also heard it’s got a secret ingredient.”

“What, like apples?”

“No.” Starlight dips her head a little as she continues. “Not like apples.”

Pinkie’s familiar smile begins to creep back onto her muzzle, and her eyes relax quite a bit. “Say no more.”

And she’s off. Starlight can barely stop her as something else comes to her mind. “And Pinkie?” The Element of Laughter peers back over her shoulder, ears perked. “Don’t—touch anything.”

Pinkie Pie salutes briefly, before bounding over to the couple and tossing her front legs up and around either of their necks. Julep mostly just appears confused; A.J. begins to protest before Pinkie bursts into laughter that would have been unexpected from any other pony. “Heehahaha… good one, Applejack. You know what that actually reminds me of?”

Starlight Glimmer rolls her eyes at the mare’s detective work. Just as Applejack begins to insist that she hadn’t said anything prior to Pinkie Pie showing up, Starlight turns her tail to the scene and heads in the direction of the princess.

Upon arrival, she realizes the globe Twilight had slowly been spinning actually had tiny lights all over it. Each time the alicorn would stop on one of them, a projector would change slides overhead, showing an image of the way that part of the world was before ponykind. Each picture would surpass the last with displays of grand, alien towers seeming to stretch infinitely into the clouds above. As Starlight places her hoof on the railing next to Twilight, the princess turns her head just a tad, and smiles at her new company. When she turns it back again, she simply continues to roll through the images.

Before the silence has a chance to grow uncomfortable in length, Starlight speaks up. “It’s pretty incredible, isn’t it?”

Twilight continues to stare at the projection above them, a small smile on her face, but the light of excitement not quite as bright in her eyes. “It’s so much to take in…”

Starlight looks away from her friend’s profile, and up to the ancient photo. This one showed what looked like houses, stretching as far into the distance as the frame could capture. The roads between them were wide, and uniform, forming patterns that the unicorn’s eyes couldn’t help but follow.

When she looked down again, she couldn’t help but see a sadness looming over the princess, hoof frozen in place as her gaze holds onto no detail in particular. A pain grows in Starlight, as she addresses the feelings. “Are you okay?”

Twilight twists her head in shock. “What? Yeah, of course. It’s just…” Starlight notices the alicorn turn away from her for a moment, perhaps toward the guard standing silently at the nearest doorway in the room. When Twilight turns back around, she preludes her comment with a soft inhale. “I don’t know if Canterlot… trusts me.”

Confused, Starlight narrows her eyes before responding. “You mean because of the Summer Sun Celebration? Still?”

Twilight shrugs her shoulders as she looks at her hoof placed up on the railing. “It’s not just the council, either. Even Princess Celestia has felt… distant, lately.” Starlight turns to stare at the wall ahead of her as she considers the princess’s relationship.

“Maybe… maybe she thinks she’s protecting you from something.” Twilight listens intently to her friends insights. “I mean, I think she’s pretty much always considered you a daughter of hers.”

“What could she possibly think I needed protection from?” The question is uttered in an urgent, yet still hushed tone. “I mean, did she forget all the times we’ve saved Ponyville from complete disaster? All of the monsters we’ve defeated?”

Starlight tilts her head in concern and moves in a little closer to keep their conversation private. “What did she say, exactly?”

The alicorn parts her lips with a barely audible click before proceeding. “I don’t know—I guess it’s more of what she doesn’t say. The constant glances that look like there’s something she knows about, and that I’m supposed to know about too.” A pause in her explanation gives Twilight the chance to turn back to the globe and prepare to give it another spin with her hoof. “And I don’t. I don’t know what it is.”

The voices coming from the three ponies behind them continue to intermediately appear with sudden clarity, like when the group laughs, or mockingly scold one another. Starlight tunes it out, instead focusing on her distraught friend. “You’re stressed—like anypony would be in your position. It just sounds like you’re mind is creating problems where there doesn’t have to be.”

Twilight turns the globe slowly, a sigh escaping her lips. “Yeah, maybe.”

Obvious to Starlight, the unicorn had done little to erode Twilight’s concerns over the matter. She hangs her head and pats the railing awkwardly with a hoof, waiting for better words to arrive in her head. “You know, I really hated you guys when you first showed up at my village.”

A strange place to start, if Twilight’s expression was anything to go by.

“Of course I was wrong; and, I was a monster for what I did to that place.” Princess Twilight exhales through her nostrils, in what might have been a chuckle if she had the energy.

“But I didn’t see it that way when you guys first arrived. I was stubborn, and irrational; and yet… you saw through to me. You defied me, and risked imprisonment. And when you defeated me, and tore apart my tower of lies, you…” She drifts off as she finds herself locked eye to eye with Twilight. “...accepted me.”

A small, but genuine smile appears on the alicorn’s muzzle. Starlight has to blink a few times to regain her focus and continue the story. “I owe everything to you and your friends. You’re kind, intelligent, and forgiving. And I refuse to believe Celestia—nor anypony close to you—can’t see that.”

As Starlight finishes, she notices her friend’s smile quiver just a tad and her eyes grow misty. Twilight’s stance falters a bit before she collapses inward, wrapping her hooves tightly around the unicorn. Starlight freezes for a moment, then happily places her own hoof around Twilight’s neck, and returns the gesture.

“Thank you Starlight.”

The shaky words fall warmly onto the mare’s ears, as a smile of her own begins to grow.

After what felt like not nearly long enough for Starlight, the princess begins to release her friend from the embrace, and slowly back away. Her violet forehoof lifts up and begins to wipe at her eyes as Twilight utters one last comment. “You’re a really good friend.”

Starlight places her hoof back onto the rail and playfully leans back and forth against it. “Yeah, well… probably just callused from all those ‘friendship tests’ you used to quiz me with.”

Twilight Sparkle laughs wholeheartedly with a forehoof still obscuring her eyes, unable to see the gleeful expression that Starlight wears.

* * *

The moon hangs high in the sky with its bright beams of light pouring down over Equestria, and penetrating the glass dome in the center of the Canterlot library. Its silvery atmosphere spills out among the many shelves, succumbing to a much deeper midnight blue at the far edges of the room. A few old, wooden desks sit empty around the library, a thin layer of dust coating their surfaces and webs stretched over their corners and crevices. All save one, which the Princess of Friendship occupies.

Twilight’s quill scrawls effortlessly over the notes in front of her, as her magic guides its movements. Her eyes periodically dart between the notes and an open book resting on the desk, just next to a stack of others, all waiting to be explored. An orange glow from the lantern sitting beside her work provides Twilight with enough light to see what she’s doing without being overbearing, or without disrupting the night’s thick atmosphere.

The sound of hoofsteps is the first thing to draw the princess’s attention away since she first dipped her quill in ink.

“Good evening, Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight notices Luna’s enchanted mane long before the approaching details of her face are made visible by lantern light. “Oh, good evening Princess Luna!” The alicorn briefly looks around the room, confused. “...Or is it morning?” Before Luna can respond with more than an amused smile, Twilight finds herself noticing the much smaller mare standing quietly next to the princess’s side.

“I suppose that is more accurate. As it’s half-past midnight and you weren’t in your room, I knew I needn’t make more than one stop to find where your curiosity had dragged you.” At this, Twilight laughs sheepishly from behind her tower of books. “...Your curiosity is actually the matter I was hoping to discuss with you, Twilight.”

The younger princess freezes up, voice caught in her throat. Had the council decided to make a move against her after the speech?

“As I’m sure you’re aware, Canterlot has a long road ahead of them in regards to the decryption and translation of all the data still resting in The Vault.” Luna’s long, flowing mane trails behind her as she begins to slowly walk around the desk. “Canterlot has assembled a team for this exact purpose. And we’d like you to lead it.” The mare comes to a stop just before Twilight’s side, so that she’s looking down at her.

“...Me?” Twilight’s response is uttered meekly, the claws of shock still wrapped around her neck. Princess Luna raises an eyebrow to her co-ruler.

“Unless of course, you’re not interested?”

“No no, that—I mean, I am interested!”

Luna responds with a smirk and a turn, walking back around to the front of the desk where the other mysterious mare waits. “Take the day to think it over. You can come to me or my sister for questions, or, preferably…” A dark blue hoof curls around the young mare standing next to Luna, who looks up to her princess with a wide smile. “...somepony who has a little more of an understanding of the matter than either of us do, and your potential partner in this venture should you decide to take it.”

The unicorn with a mint coat steps forward and away from Princess Luna, extending her forehoof over the desk for an energetic hoofshake with the younger alicorn. “Princess Twilight, it’s such an honor to finally officially meet you!” There’s enthusiasm in the mare’s greeting that Twilight struggles to match, considering the hour, and the lingering confusion that still holds her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Ms.…?”

“Heartstrings!” The mare’s smile grows wider as she finally breaks the hoofshake and steps back from the desk.

“Dr. Heartstrings. But you can just call me Lyra.”