Resurgence

by Zvn

Rating: mature
Tags: Drama, Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Starlight Glimmer, Sex, Tragedy, Profanity, Violence, Princess Celestia, Dark, Death, Narcotics, Main 6, Princess Luna
Length: 100393

The discovery of an ancient, and eerily familiar civilization of bipedal creatures stirs great unrest in Equestria.

The Vault has been opened. All around Equestria ponies are left to confront their strange new reality: that they weren’t the first to walk these lands; that they aren’t the first sentient species to have inhabited the planet.

Now, only a few years after becoming a princess, Twilight Sparkle and her friends are forced to navigate issues they couldn’t possibly have prepared for. It drives a wedge between some of them, where it weaves a common bond between others. It leads some on the path to growth, and others, down a seemingly bottomless well of desperation and violence.

And at the center of it all are the bones of the ancient creatures once forgotten to ponykind. They called themselves ‘humans’... and they’ve left quite a few things behind.

Published 2017-07-05 05:00:06 UTC
Last updated 2020-08-01 01:59:42 UTC

First Dawn

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.”

The Unveiling

Author's Note

Chapter Two Recap :
https://docs.google.com/document/d/13zowVy6A_-T5DINQIiGbL6LmWo7ZNvvlJyldOVONC5I/edit?usp=sharing

The Unveiling

Cave’s home, a small cottage with cobblestone walls and a yard full of rail spikes and disassembled train parts, rests deep within the woods of White Tail. The furnishings are quite bare; an old sofa sits in the center of the living room, across from a weathered stone fireplace with the fleeting embers of its last fire still glowing. A bar at the edge of the living room separates it from the kitchen, and the bathroom past that, where the quiet sounds of shower water raining down can be heard from behind the closed door.

The furniture may be sparse, but the contents of nearly every surface and even some of the walls are far from it. Newspapers clippings are scattered amidst strange sketches and an old, half-burned candle. The papers line the kitchen bar and make their way up onto the nearest wall, where one particular newspaper is pinned next to a drawing of a mare. Small blood-stained fingerprints dot its lower half, and the headline reads of the young Princess Twilight. In fact, nearly all of the articles mention the princess.

The kindling of Fall brings a cold wind through the only open window in the house, and gently lifts the corners of the surrounding newspapers.

In the house’s small bathroom, Cave scrubs vigorously at his fur with a soapy washrag, steam rising all around him. A lantern mounted on the outside of the shower creates a bright, yellowish glow; and the rain of hot water is the only sound to be heard in the small room. To an ordinary creature, anyway.

Cave’s ear perks up as he stares intently at the curtain between him and the bathroom door. Every muscles in his body freezes, waiting for the return of a distant, muffled noise. He lifts up a paw and twists one end of the shower rod slowly, loosening it from its position against the wall. When the sound does return, it’s closer, and more evident. The diamond dog returns to bathing, even as his senses hone in on the entity making its way into the room. Cave washes needlessly in the same spot for a moment, and his eyes narrow at the sliver of light bleeding through the side of the curtain, waiting for it to disappear.

Just as it does, Cave springs into action, and throws the curtain rod in the direction of the door, covering the other individual with the wet curtain. The attacker’s flintlock pistol pivots up into the air as Cave immediately wraps his arms around the creature’s neck. Through stressed grunts and sheer willpower, the covered assailant slowly turns his aim from the ceiling and down toward their heads. With gritted teeth, Cave loosens his choke hold on the intruder, and swats at the gun with his closest paw. A few of the attempts push the weapon away, but the attacker is quick to bring the barrel back to the hairs on top of Cave’s head. His grunt turns into a shout as he uses his left arm to twist the attacker’s head as far as he can manage, then his right paw to overpower the creature’s shooting arm, and slam it down into the sink basin.

Both creatures flinch as the gun’s booming shot fills the room, and the smell of gunpowder quickly follows. The mirror shatters where the shot lands, distorting the reflection of the two violently grappling at one another. Cave returns both arms to the other creature’s neck, applying as much pressure as manageable. The smoking pistol drops to the ground with a thud, as the victim of the chokehold claws mercilessly at the diamond dog’s arms and face. Bloody stripes quickly lace his coat.

“AAAGH—”

The attack fuels a sudden burst of raw adrenaline in Cave, who digs his claws into the back of the attacker’s head through the shower curtain, and forces it to violently crash down into the sink basin.

The other creature shouts out in agony, desperately scratching at the homeowner’s arms, but doing little to impede his relentless attacks. Again and again Cave brings the covered assailants skull down into the sink, even as the basin cracks and dislodges from the wall. The attacker turned victim slumps over lifelessly as Cave releases the back of his head. His body falls into a pile of porcelain and blood, its long red reach filling tiny moats around the tiled floor.

Bent over, panting, and with fresh blood still pouring from the wounds on his face, Cave takes a much needed moment to regain his stamina before inspecting the corpse. With the curtain torn from its spot above the shower, steam is left to freely roll over the room’s two occupants.

After wincing and twisting his head in annoyance at the ringing that remains in his ears, Cave kneels down onto the bloodied floor, and grabs a pawful of the thin cover still resting over the body. He then yanks it off, revealing the assaliant’s identity.

Most of the face was grotesquely bruised after the fight, but Cave had known the victim well enough to still put it to a name. It was Arnold; his once partner in their life of crime.

The shower curtain falls in on itself as the diamond dog tosses it aside, and then leans back against the wall to continue his recovery. His head rolls back and eyelids close, perhaps an attempt to focus on the sound of the shower water over the ringing that would remain for a while yet.

After a short recovery, Cave turns off the shower head and makes his way out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, noticing the open window on his trip there. Once inside, he kicks aside the old rug on the floor, and begins to feel the floorboards with a paw. One of them creaks irregularly. Once removed, the board reveals the hidden cache below, a burlap sack full of coins of varying metals. Cave shuffles through it briefly, then narrows his eyes and turns back to look at the doorway to the living room.

Upon re-entering the bathroom, Cave is quick to kneel over the corpse again and begin rifling through the belt pouches. As one paw discovers something, the other reaches out for the flintlock pistol on the floor, brought close so that its new owner can inspect it. The paw digging through Arnold’s ammo pouch finally brings out a couple of paper cartridges, Cave rolling them around a bit in his paw, then grasping them firmly and standing up with the newfound pistol and ammo.

* * *

Twilight flips eagerly through the pages of an old tome, as a strange blue light fills the room around her. The alicorn’s shadow dances over the shelves of many more books, next to chests and desks covered in documents and strange metallic tools. All is quiet, except for the occasional turning of pages, and a light hum emanating from the device in the center of the room.

The device itself is one of particular interest. It’s round, and thick—about three feet in diameter—and made mostly of an engraved wood. There’s a locked panel on its side, and a bright projection that spills out over the top. This holographic image shows a cluster of light points, a bit like how a three-dimensional map of the cosmos might appear. Every now and then, its radiance is enough to draw Twilight’s eyes up, the swirling mysteries within just begging to be discovered.

Voices outside the door are the next thing to steal Twilight’s attention. Before long, the door creaks open, and one of the voices’ owners makes herself known. Lyra Heartstrings steps through the doorway cautiously, with a pair of cups in her magic’s grasp.

“Gentlecolts.”

One of the guards outside nods respectfully at the mare, as she passes into the room Twilight resides in. The door comes to a close slowly, but Lyra is quick to canter inward and greet the princess with a smile. “Princess, I see you’ve been hard at work…”

The unicorn’s magic levitates one of the cups onto the desk before Twilight, who creases her tired eyes with a smile. “Ah, thank you.” The response is uttered meekly, Twilight turning the warm cup gently with a forehoof. Lyra’s usually energetic body language gives way to a more still, cautious waiting.

“What—oh, damn it!” The mint colored pony places her own drink down as she takes a moment to scold herself. “That’s right, you said you don’t drink coffee…”

“It’s fine!” Twilight quickly comments. “I probably would never make it through tonight without some kind of boost.” The princess is genuine with her reassurance, and smiles sympathetically toward the distraught mare.

“You sure? Because I could totally change the order.”

Twilight Sparkle simply waves a hoof. “There’s no need.”

Lyra removes her scarf with magic, then makes a rather hurried trip over to the coat hanger while resolving the matter with the princess. “...Alright, well, I promise I won’t forget next time.” The unicorn’s comment is enough to draw a smile from Twilight, who’s reminded of a question she’d had on her mind for some time now.

“I’ve been wondering, Lyra…”

The mint colored mare trots back to Twilight’s desk, beaming with curiosity. “Yeah?”

“...How did you end up becoming one of Equestria’s first anthropologists?”

Dr. Heartstrings hums a soft note of affirmation in the middle of a drink. “—Right place right time, I suppose.” The princess stares with renewed interest in her sleepy eyes, as Lyra leans against the corner of the desk and peers at the light of the machine. “Back in Starswirl Academy, I had a seat in the Board of New Horizons, overseeing the expansion and broadening of academic programs, where oppurtunity might yada dada da—” A winding motion with her forehoof compliments Lyra’s aversion to the details “—some ponies used the position to genuinely aid the student body and advancement of art and science. Others, I felt, used it more so for a claim to status.”

Twilight hums in understanding as Lyra pushes off from the desk and turns around to face her directly. “Anyway, once wind of The Vault reached the school, I was leaping at any chance to submit the study of anthropology as a formal practice at SA.” The tone in Lyra’s voice shifts, as she carries on in disbelief of her own story. “We were on the cusp of possibly the greatest discovery of the millenia, and I wanted the academy to be the beating heart of its decryption!” Silence ensues—save for the otherworldly hum of the machine—and Lyra stares off to a dark corner of the room while lost in thought.

“...The board disagreed?”

The unicorn sighs and takes another quick sip of her drink. “It wasn’t in line with their ‘tenet of traditionalism’, for one.” Before continuing, she shakes her head and places the cup down with telekinesis. “Anyway, turned out to be a blessing in disguise, because here I’d come to find out that Canterlot was forming its own team, and my unrest over at Starswirl was enough to get the Princesses’ attention.”

“For what it’s worth,” Twilight begins. “I think Canterlot can really offer a lot of great opportunities for your research.” The smile so commonly found on Lyra’s lips make its return, as she happily nods in agreeance.

“I think so too. I mean, can’t get much closer to The Vault than right on top of it.”

After ‘hmm’ing in agreeance, Princess Twilight plays a bit with her cup in a field of magic. “How was the move?”

“Good!” Lyra nods nonchalantly and gives her short, cyan mane a little bounce. “I got set up with an apartment downtown, almost no loose ends; but uh—” A pause in her reply allows the mare a moment to simply stare at the floor, before shaking her head and lifting her cup back up. “—well, that’s enough about me anyway, what about you? Find anything interesting in here?” Dr. Heartstrings prods at the mechanism in the center of the room with a forehoof.

“Well,” Twilight begins with a growing smile and a tinge of excitement in her voice. “There is one data set that has me particularly curious…” The violet mare pushes away from her desk and canters around to the front, where she can more readily access the large, humming device. The projection shifts as Twilight’s horn begins to glow a vivid violet, Lyra stepping closer with her interest piqued.

“What vector are we looking at?”

“Uh... “ Twilight’s magic begins to effortlessly flip though a notebook with hundreds of pages of neatly organized lists, notes, and mathematical equations. “...this is in… S4800.A55.16.” Another glowing cluster of lights appears in the blueish projection. “Now most vectors are seemingly random when compared next to one another, right?” Lyra nods in understanding. “Alright, so look at A55.16… and then .17…” The magic surrounding the mechanism coaxes it to show a new projection, similar in shape to the last. “...and .20, and .30. They’re not just similar, it’s building upon itself, like a… like a progression.”

Dr. Heartstrings steps even closer for inspection, leaning forward so that her muzzle is painted by the machine’s light. “Can you scale out?” With a nod and a flash of her horn, Twilight obliges, and the constellation between the ponies shrinks so that hundreds of more points make themselves known. “Move through them again, maybe a hundred at a time…”

The alicorn looks away from her friend and down toward the device, where she focuses her energy. The mares are quiet for a moment, entranced by the lights show presented before them, its radiance moving the shadows around the dark walls of the room.

A smile grows slowly on Lyra’s muzzle. “It’s music.”

Twilight looks up, confused but curious. “How can you tell?”

“Look at this pattern over here—” Her mint colored forehoof extends out into the projection, casting a large shadow on the ceiling above the ponies. “See how rythmic its expansion and contraction is?” The princess tilts her head at the display, watching the web of lights more closely. “Like percussion, maybe?”

Twilight Sparkle stares in bewilderment as her cohort circles around the machine. “Huh…”

Lyra crouches down to inspect the side of the wood, where a large panel is situated. “You don’t think we can get any kind of audio output on this thing, can we?”

Twilight shakes her head. “The table wasn’t designed to translate vibrations, it’s just the raw data.” The panel on the side of the device comes cleanly off under the guide of Lyra’s magic, exposing the large glowing crystal inside. Clouds of freezing air spill out with the panel door. “However…”

“...However; with the rest of the team, and access to a pressing plant, a solution could be found?”

The dance of lights before her is too powerful to allow her eyes to drift, Twilight responding while she levitates her cup up before her muzzle. “Hypothetically, anyway.” Still lost in the display, the princess takes the smallest of sips from the warm drink, her eyes narrowing just a tad at the unfamiliar taste. It was apparent now that she’d have to get used to it.

* * *

Light, cream colored forehooves with an impeccably sleek coat cross over one another, moving with a small, but rapid tapping. The hooves themselves are adorned with unmistakable high heels, painted with a fiery red, and shined so much so that the entire room is visible in their reflection. This effect is amplified by the pouring of light that comes through the stained glass window, fixed just before the mare and revealing every corner of the small room with its radiance. The light penetrates through an ornate depiction of Princess Celestia reaching up toward the sun, its shades of red and orange giving the room a warm, comforting glow.

To the mare’s right, rests a black briefcase, propped neatly against the wall. Further right still is another mare—unicorn as well—small in frame and with her mane held up in a ponytail. Her telekinetic grasp is wrapped around two cartons full of drinks; though the nervous expression she wears is hardly any indication of her trust in them staying upright.

After a moment of muffled conversation and hoofsteps coming from beyond the room, one of two doors in the room swings open to present a small group of ponies coming out from the stone hall behind them.

“Thank you so much for meeting with us, Councilman.” The first stallion out of the door says with a genuine smile, reaching up for a hoofshake shortly after. One might guess that the mare standing off to the side of the two gentlecolts is his wife, infant foal swaddled snuggly in a blanket hanging from her neck, and a forehoof propped under it for support.

The bearded councilman returns the smile, and replies gently. “It was our pleasure.” As the couple turns to leave, he makes a small wave at the sleepy foal being carried out by the mother, a laugh stifled by his desire to not disturb the infant.

Once the family is cleared out, the councilman turns to the two ponies still waiting by the window, the cream colored mare having never looked away from the glass during the commotion. A smile was on her muzzle though, and her ears remained pricked during the conversation.

“Senator Peach?” The unicorn turns her profile so that she can listen more directly to the stallion. “The High Council will see you now.”

The smile on the mare only grows wider. She nods, and the vibrant red curls in her mane follow with an almost comical bounce. Her head is blocking the view of Celestia on the glass behind her, leaving the masterfully crafted design of the sun to hang over the senator’s visage instead.

“Splendid.”

The trio of ponies make their way through the door, and up the long winding staircase behind it, the stone steps cold to the touch. Senator Peach’s apparent assistant—the smaller framed mare—makes the slowest ascent, carefully balancing the carton full of drinks as the others idly chit-chat.

Once at the top of the stairs, the councilman takes the lead, and holds the door open for the other two. Peach thanks the stallion, then strides confidently into the room full of ponies seated at a long table, the head of which is no other than Princess Celestia.

“Fillies and gentlecolts of the High Council, it’s a pleasure to meet with you all again.” Senator Peach wraps around the table and exchanges a few smiles and nods with the creatures sitting there, until she finds her gaze locked with her ruler’s. “And of course, it’s an honor to once more have an audience, Princess Celestia.” The middle-aged mare takes a well practiced bow before her Majesty. Celestia’s response is small, smiling just a little wider and lowering her muzzle mere inches.

Before the silence can grow too long, the senator is swift to launch into her next statement. “I hope you don’t mind, but I brought drinks for everypony…” A cream colored hoof extends out toward the small pony trailing behind Senator Peach, and the cartons she’s still struggling to balance.

“A kind gesture. Very well then, Senator.” Celestia’s words ring pleasantly against the other mare’s ears, and she quickly lifts one drink off of the tray with magic, then signals her assistant to finish hoofing the rest of them out.

The single drink Senator Peach grabs hold of is designated for the princess, a thin transparent cup seemingly filled with water alone, and a couple cucumber slices mounted neatly on the rim.

The smaller mare begins to slowly make her way around the room, passing out the predesignated cups as she does so. Each is of varying size and color, with the council member’s initials marked clearly on the side. Some emit a small bit of steam, caught in the daylight pouring in from the near floor-to-ceiling windows surrounding the room; others glisten, a thin layer of condensation coating their smooth plastic.

“So,” Peach begins, as her assistant continues to trot diligently around the room. “where are we at, in regards to last week’s discussion?”

Celestia tilts her head, and unfurls her impressive wings for a brief flap, right before divulging any information. “I’m saddened to have to deliver this news, Senator; but we’ve done little more than become increasingly assured of our stance.”

Senator Peach’s expression of somewhat off-putting enthusiasm remains steadfast, despite the news. “Oh?”

“Senator, you must understand…” An older mare joins in, with a deep, royal blue coat. “We are very early in The Vault’s life above ground. Technologies can’t simply be plucked from its branches like a farmer might take fruit from her orchard; there is research to be done, and questions of ethics to first be raised.”

A younger council member, and the only griffon at the table, leans in to add to the discussion. “Not to mention the issue of theoretical application versus real-world use. Let us not forget, this was an entirely different civilization—and one that failed, plain and simple.” Many of the room’s members nod silently at this assessment. Dominus is one exception, who’s amber scales glow gently in the sunlight. Despite his power, the dragon often found himself lending himself as a silent observer more than an active part of these discussions.

“Councilmembers, I implore you, there is much potential to be gained from this opportunity. We’re talking about lives that can be saved—”

The senator is suddenly cut off by the first mare that had spoken on the matter, with the royal blue coat. “Or lives lost, should it fall into the wrong hooves.”

Dominus Temporis is suddenly ripped from his gaze at the others, as the small assistant pony finally reaches his (and the last) spot on the table, right next to Princess Celestia. His steady claw grabs hold of the offered drink floating in the pony’s telekinesis, smiling as he does so; and thanking her quietly under his breath.

“Senator Peach.” Celestia begins with signature confidence. “I understand your desire to help ponies, and to give a voice to those without the opportunity to be heard.” The Senator’s smile fades just a tad, as she listens intently. “But you must also understand that there is an order in these things, and that the process mustn't be rushed. The Council’s interest is with the citizens of Equestria as well.”

Peach’s eyes stay trained on the alicorn’s, even as she can feel the others’ stares. “Of course.” She pauses, widening her smile back to its original proportions. “I understand.”

The meeting concludes shortly after this exchange, and eventually Senator Peach is left to wander back down into the lobby, where she recoups with her assistant. Using her magic, the cream colored mare fidgets restlessly with a long curl on the edge of her mane. The mare’s eyes are held by Celestia’s visage even outside of the boardroom; though here, it's merely in the form of the stained glass window to her right.

She casts her glance aside for a moment, to converse with her young assistant. “You did good, Penny.”

Looking at the scene before her, Penny is unable to hide the concern in her expression nor voice, as she responds slowly. “...Mrs. Peach? Are you alright?”

The senator suddenly pauses, ceasing the manic twisting her telekinesis was performing, and turning fully to face the other mare. “I’m fine.” The smile returns. “Thank you, Dear.”

Suddenly, the wooden door leading to the boardroom above swings open, and a member of the High Council steps out. He’s a middle-aged stallion, with bushy sideburns and a dull red coat. “Senator,” the colt is quick to remark. “I was hoping you’d still be here.”

Peach turns her attention to the approaching earth pony, and extends out her foreleg for a hoofshake. “Councilman Sterling, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

The stallion shakes the senator’s hoof without pause. “Oh, just a small matter really. If you don’t mind, I’d like for us to speak in my office for a spell?”

At this, the mare turns to her assistant, and lifts her muzzle a tad before speaking. “Wait for me in the main hall?”

“Of course.” Penny nods enthusiastically.

As the two older ponies begin to walk out together, Sterling looks back at the assistant, and gestures with his forehoof. “Thank you, Dear. We’ll be but a moment.”

Penny smiles and nods back, watching the two slip away into the deeper parts of the castle.

Councilman Sterling’s office is furnished as one might expect a member of the High Council’s to be: ornate wooden cabinets and shelves line the outer walls, filled with books and a dozen or so of small, golden trinkets. The desk the councilman himself sits behind is rather large, more than enough area for the inkwell, binder, and ceremonial dagger on display that cover it. Senator Peach takes a closer look at the blade as a guard brings Sterling’s drink to him, hilt gleaming with shades of amber and gold, and crafted with an almost rope-like shape. The blade itself is quite eye-catching as well, crude imagery of a dragon skull etched into its side.

“Thank you.” The councilman offers to the guard, who nods and turns to exit. Peach draws her attention back up to the pony, and the two wait quietly for the sound of the door shutting to fill the room. As it does, Sterling wastes no time to speak.

“A long black,” The stallion points to the now steamless beverage on his desk. “made with ristretto and embellished with a single pombyet leaf.” Sterling rotates his stool a bit while enjoying a soft chuckle, and looking down at the drink. “...Pretty specific…”

“I take it you enjoyed it, then?” Peach chimes in from her side of the desk.

The stallion responds by smirking and leaning in a little closer. “Senator, I want to help you. But first, I have to ask a few things.”

The nervous tapping Senator Peach has previously exhibited returns, in her right leg crossed over the left. “Alright.”

Sterling first crosses his forehooves on the desk. “Why so adamant about The Vault? What’re you expecting to find?”

Still smiling, the senator tilts her head barely enough to be noticable. “I’m only following the will of my constituents. Wouldn’t be here had I not.”

“Right—” Councilman Sterling looks off to the side and quietly smacks his lips. “—well, let me be the first to tell you, this,” he gestures wildy with his hooves “general, nebula of a bill you’re trying to pass with the council? It’s hopeless.”

Peach squints a little at the stallion’s comment, but stays quiet and allows him to finish.

“The only way you’re gonna get it through is if you narrow its scope. DNA—” Sterling places both hooves flat out on the table. “—that’s what you’re after, right? Forget about the cataloging, forget ‘digital data storage’; just, raw DNA testing. That’s your ticket.”

More restless now, Peach speaks up. “Have you considered yet what will happen if other nations recover these technologies before Equestria does?” The councilman starts to shake his head before she can even finish.

“Canterlot is in total control of the flow, here. Nothing will slip through the cracks.” No response is uttered by the senator, who simply stares as the stallion carries on. “Listen...” He begins suddenly, with a more relaxed tone. “...I’m owed some favors up there; and half of those ponies couldn’t care less about how this bill turns out.” Even as she continues to listen, Peach’s gaze grows lifeless, like she’s staring through Councilman Sterling rather than right at him. “They’re tired, Senator. I can give you a guarantee on this.”

Finally, the mare on the other side of the desk dips her head, and takes a moment to recollect herself. Now Sterling opts to wait, giving the pony as much time as she needs.

When she again lifts her head, it’s with the return of her business smile. “How much are we talking?”

Councilman Sterling smirks. “Actually, I’m not quite interested in bits. Not anymore, anyway.” He extends a hoof out and begins to toy with the top of his beverage, slowly pivoting it around. “...In the boardroom, you struck me as a confident mare, who always…” Sterling looks up, and inhales. “...knows the right thing to say.”

“Ah,” Peach returns with a smirk of her own. “you’re a romantic.”

The stallion laughs softly, but makes no interjection.

“So what’re looking for?” Senator Peach begins. “Hoof, wing, or horn?” To the mare’s surprise, Councilman Sterling hesitates for a moment, seemingly uninterested in any of the options laid before him. “...Or, something more exotic, perhaps?”

“Actually,” He responds with a furrowed brow. “there’s somepony specific who’s already caught my eye.” The senator leans back on her stool as she watches Sterling search for the right words to use.

“Your assistant… Penny, was her name?”

The words paralyze Mrs. Peach. She allows a moment to pass where she half expects the stallion to begin laughing, and claim it all a joke. Instead, she’s met with a chilling silence.

“...That’s not her job.”

Sterling takes a brief moment to casually sip from the last of his coffee, then looks back at his guest and attempts to provide more of an explanation. “I’m aware, and I understand your hesitance; but I’m afraid…” While thinking, the councilman enjoys a soft chuckle, contrary to the nature of their conversation. “Well to be frank, I’m afraid I’m quite stubborn on these matters.”

Senator Peach interjects faster now. “Councilman, I assure you, my selection will meet your—”

“I’ve no doubt your selection is of great quality, Senator. But my mind is set; I need but one evening with her.” The finality of the stallion’s request is emphasized with his forehooves, stretched out and planted firmly on the desk. “You do want that bill to pass, don’t you?”

Peach scoffs. “How could I ever even have your guarantee on something like this?”

“Well, I’m obviously willing to risk my career on it—”

“And mine.” A momentary impasse, the ponies simply staring at one another.

“Senator, don’t fool yourself into thinking that Canterlot has any good grace left with the populous. I’m sure you saw what happened at The Summer Sun Celebration. The reporters would be practically climbing over one another to get the chance at a corrupt councilman story.”

The cream-colored mare bows her head and looks down, perhaps at the bright red heels she wears, the brown carpet beneath her hooves; or perhaps at nothing at all.

“All of the cards are in your hoof, Senator.”

A field of magic begins to fiddle with the curls in Mrs. Peach’s mane. She steels herself, faces forward, and smiles.

“Ms. Penny will be in need of a raise, don’t you think?”

Councilman Sterling returns the smile, stands up from his stool, and outstretches a hoof to shake the senator’s.

“That can be arranged.”

* * *

As the sun reaches its apex, and the brilliant Canterlot sky drifts peacefully overhead, the ponies of the Equestrian Special Forces agency move about their base diligently. The building itself is modest in size, but very modern in appearance, with many large windows and metal and stone intertwining often on the exterior.

Inside, brightly lit halls and offices wind around the building, a myriad of colors filling the space thanks to the ponies who work there. Many are at their desks, coffee and typewriter at the ready. Others drift casually, conversing with one another as they trot by. Rainbow Dash—divided from the communal work space by blinders and a large, glass wall—is one of the former.

The blue pegasus rubs her tired eyes with a hoof as she looks over a lengthy document on her desk. The words, seeming to sprawl on endlessly, hold Dash’s attention well enough for her to ignore the muffled phone rings, and idle chatter outside. But not well enough to keep her from occasionally looking up at the manila folder laid out on the back of her desk.

Once she’s sure she’s read enough, Rainbow Dash slides an ink well before her, presses hard with her hoof into the black substance, then does the same at the bottom of the document. When she lifts her hoof up again, a unique insignia is left on the paper, cloud and lightning bolt centered inside her hoof mark. Dash then pushes the document aside with her other hoof, and rolls back on her stool to wash the ink covered hoof at a sink in the back of her office. As she does so, she takes another glance at the manila folder sitting inconspicuously at the back of her desk.

‘Aegis, “The Equestrians”’ The tab reads.

Dash shakes her forehoof, and flings the excess water into the sink basin. All while watching the folder with a cross expression on her face. When she finally rolls back to her desk again, she’s able to do little but sit and stare, as if the folder could fling itself open at any moment.

Just as she exhales, and reaches forward to obtain the document, the telephone in her office begins to ring noisily.

“Ugh, what now?” The mare mumbles under her breath. She stands up from her desk and walks over to where the hoofset is mounted against the wall. The ringing ceases as Dash picks up the line, and holds the phone to her ear. “Rainbow Dash, Captain of the First Wing.” The words come out in a droning, uninspired tone.

“Captain, there’s a… Starlit… Glamour here to see you.”

Hearing the words surprise Dash, who stumbles a bit over her response. “Oh, uh—okay, I’ll be out in just a minute. Thank you.”

The two mares share their goodbyes, then Rainbow Dash hangs up, and paces over to her office door. She takes a brief moment to lean to the side, using her reflection in the window to attempt to correct any loose hairs in her mane, and then she begins to open the blinds blocking her line of sight with the communal office. As she does, she’s quick to spot a pack of commotion gathered around the center of the large room.

“...Aw, crap…”

Dash’s coworkers swarm around a duo of pegasi leaning against a desk, engaged in casual conversation with the excited mares and stallions that’ve approached them. Their posture is relaxed, and their smirks wide; these were Wonderbolts, and Rainbow Dash recognized both of them.

“Hey Spitfire,” Dash starts as she slowly approaches the group. “hey Soarin’.” Before the Wonderbolts can even begin to respond, the police ponies around them quickly hang their heads and canter back to their respective desks. This elicits a smirk from Spitfire, who pushes her aviators up in front of her mane.

“Whoa, looks like Rookie here really knows how to crack the whip!”

Rainbow’s mane bounces a little as she snickers at the comment. “Something like that. What are you guys down for?”

Soarin’, who’s foreleg is pressed up against a desk as he stretches, responds before his cohort can. “We’re off-season, Crash. It’s high time for a little R & R.”

“We’ve been getting the old crew back together,” Dash’s head turns back to the yellow mare with a wild, orange mane. “looking to check back in with the Canterlot nightlife… and we’re short one rookie in particular…” Spitfire ends her statement with a little nod in Dash’s direction, to which the mare responds with a look of confusion.

“You know I graduated from the academy with honors, right?”

The stallion stretching against the desk is quick to retort. “You’ll always be a rookie to us, Rookie.”

Despite her casual and relaxed posture, Spitfire’s stare is unyielding, and she continues with her conversation as if Soarin’ had never even made a comment. “What do you say? You got time this weekend?”

Feeling a bit flustered, Dash crosses a hoof over her leg as she stammers a response. “I uh…”

Spitfire turns her head a bit while looking out over the working ponies at their desks. “This club we’re looking at, said to draw one helluva crowd—” She takes a step closer to Rainbow Dash before proceeding, and greatly lowers her voice. “—including some rather... ‘energetic’ studs.”

Dash shivers. Perhaps from the invitation, or perhaps from the other mare simply standing so close to the pegasus, and delivering it with such a sultry tone. “Aheh, sounds like fun…” Spitfire returns to her original position, and both Wonderbolts look up, eager for an answer. “...but I’ve got a lot of work to do right now. Sorry guys.”

Switching forelegs, so his remaining one can stretch out against the desk, Soarin’ doesn’t hesitate to give up on the blue pegasus. “Told you she wouldn’t.”

There’s a look of disappointment in Spitfire’s expression, but also of understanding, as her smirk flattens just a bit. “Well, had to try.” Dash smiles under arched brows. “...But if you come to your senses, you know where to find us.”

A polite chuckle escapes Rainbow’s lips, and she tilts her head off to the side. With the tall windows on the outside of the office now visible to the pegasus, she can see her friend Starlight pressed close against the glass, using her hooves to surround her face and likely eliminate the sun’s bright reflection. As the two notice each other, Starlight backs up, and waves enthusiastically at her friend indoors.

“—I will uh,” Rainbow Dash quickly returns her gaze to the duo of ponies before her. “I’ll definitely let you know.” A nervous step backward is made by Dash in the middle of her statement. “I’m sorry guys, I really gotta go. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Soarin’ and Spitfire share a confused glance, before the latter pony responds to a fleeing Dash. “...Sure… you got it.” The cyan pegasus smiles and waves from over her shoulder, before turning back around and walking hurriedly toward the exit. This leaves the veteran Wonderbolts to simply stare between one another, Soarin’ raising his eyebrows and shrugging his shoulders before returning to some wing flexes.

When Rainbow Dash finally reaches the main entrance, Starlight Glimmer is there waiting at the bottom of the stairs. “Hey Dash! I hope I’m not intruding…”

The cream-colored pavement is warm under Dash’s hoofsteps, even as the colors of Fall claim the small potted trees and ferns surrounding the station. “You’re fine. Let’s talk over here.” Rainbow uses her wing to invite Starlight over to a steel railing, away from the intermittent stream of ponies through the main entrance—and the tall windows dividing the outside from the offices.

Starlight Glimmer happily trots over to meet her friend at the railing, where they exchange greetings and brief pleasantries. “I was in the area, and I thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing.”

At this, Dash turns her head so that only her profile is visible to Starlight, and so that she can watch the small crowds of ponies walk up and down the colorful streets of Canterlot. “I’m alright.”

Starlight scoffs, watching her friend’s cool expression while a smirk creeps onto her own muzzle. “That exciting, huh?”

Dash’s smile too reveals itself, and she turns to offer a little more context. “I dunno. Something doesn’t feel right. Like something’s… looming, I guess?”

“I get what you mean.” The unicorn offers with a sympathetic tone. “It’s not like anything we’ve dealt with before, is it?”

“...Yeah…” After quietly responding to her friend, Rainbow Dash turns her attention to look back over the railing, and at the commotion of ponies out in the street. For a moment, this is all either of the ponies do, and the relaxing ambiance of hooves clopping against stone, and unintelligible discussions from the street are all the sounds that fills the air.

As enough time had already passed to make the moment a bit awkward, Starlight turns and attempts to salvage the conversation. “Hey, uh… you haven’t seen Twilight recently, have you?”

Rainbow’s ear twitches, and she too turns back away from the street. “Mmm… not since… our dinner, I think.” Hearing this causes the unicorn to hang her head and twist her expression in confusion.

“It’s probably fine. We had just—talked about doing something tomorrow, and I haven’t heard back from her.” A pause passes, before Starlight continues to announce her confidence. “I’m sure she’s just busy, is all.”

Now things appear to really be at a standstill. Dash had nodded in agreeance with Starlight Glimmer, but had little else prepared as response. Desperately, the cyan pegasus begins to search for a continuation of their discussion, whether that be more talk about their mutual friend, the weather, or even just a way out. “...Starlight?”

The unicorn with a pink-purple tint in her coat perks up. “Yeah?”

“Have you uh… ever been—you know, with a colt?”

Starlight recoils back a small step as the question surprises and confuses her. “...Yeah, why?”

Still pained by the search for words, but obviously not enough to stop, Dash continues her odd questioning with squinted eyes. “...You mean, while you were…” A shake of her head silently tells Dash that Starlight still had no idea where she was going with this. “...you know, like in power at your village, and controlling ponies?”

“What? No!” Starlight quickly retorts. “I never used my magic to rape any of the villagers there, I had a coltfriend long before that.”

Dash’s famed voice crack makes a particularly spectacular return as she stumbles over an apology. Still confused, but with a little more curiosity now, Starlight Glimmer leans in and tries to get to the bottom of it. “Are you okay? Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know, I’m sorry.” Expecting more to come, Starlight looks onward as Dash simply returns to staring out into the street, no more words finding their way to her lips. The unicorn’s eyes crease and lips curl with great concern; but even she had to admit that this ‘friend problem’ might take more than a short, caring conversation to repair.

* * *

With clouds rolling over the Canterlot sky, the bright sunlit vista of the past few weeks begins to give way to a cold, grayish blue. At the top of one of the castle’s towers, the effects of the foreboding weather can be viewed in great detail; tall, spotless windows doing little to prevent the room’s occupants from observing the looming gray clouds.

“Senator Peach,” Celestia announces warmly from her end of the long table. “welcome back.”

The mare with bright red curls and a light, cream colored coat first acknowledges the welcoming with a nod. “Thank you, Princess Celestia.”

Velvet, one of the older mares at the table, begins to curiously look behind the senator for the presence of another pony. “Your assistant isn’t with you? Is she well?”

“Ms. Penny is feeling a little under the weather today.” Peach responds quickly and punctually. “I hope it’s not an issue that I participate in this meeting alone.” One of the stallions at the table—one with long, well-groomed sideburns—takes a particularly long gaze at the table beneath him, and away from the face of the mare speaking.

Velvet raises her brow and reveals some of her deeper wrinkles as she frowns. “Not at all. Please, tell her we wish her well.”

“I will.” Again the red-maned mare responds rapidly. “Thank you, councilwoman Velvet.”

Princess Celestia leans in from the other side of the room and gently places her forehooves against the table. “Well Senator, we have some rather good news for you.” Before proceeding, the alicorn slides a small stack of paper to be neatly placed in the center of the table before her. “The High Council has heard your proposed compromise on the bill, and we’re willing to move ahead with a restructured plan regarding the use of DNA testing in criminology.” Senator Peach simply smiles and nods as her superior continues. “We refuse the application of ‘cataloging’, used by late human civilizations, but we’ll be enabling the nation-wide practice of DNA testing suspects of severe crimes. You’ll find all of the details in here:” A golden aura lifts the document off of the table, and levitates them over to the senator.

“Thank you kindly, Princess Celestia.” Mrs. Peach grasps the document in her own magic.

“Keep in mind,” Celestia suddenly adds. “this process will take some time, most notably due to the nature of the technology. You’ll be notified when we’re ready for a press release.”

Smiling a little thinner than usual, Senator Peach nods respectfully one last time. “Of course. Thank you.”

From the opposite side of the room, just next to Celestia’s massive wing, sits a contemplative Dominus Temporis. His index finger and thumb are wrapped around his snout, and his scaly elbow rests against the table. Only his cat-like eyes give any indication of motion, as they peer intently at the senator expressing her thanks, before rolling down to stare at nothing in particular.

* * *

At night, the cobblestone streets of Canterlot fall into a sleepy haze, only a hooful of ponies walking quietly under street lamp glow where there were once hundreds. Even still, the city had a sort of warm charm to it after nightfall, accented by the particularly entrancing glow of store fronts and apartment windows. It was quiet; but life still breathed through these expansive streets.

On the corner of one, two mares skirt closely around a dark building, their laughter echoing around the block. One is a unicorn, mint green in color.

“...Yeah, so, needless to say, that was the last time I was in that class.”

The other mare, a violet alicorn with a much darker violet mane, smiles widely as she responds. “I’m surprised you were let in the school after that!”

Lyra chuckles. “If the dean had his way, I probably wouldn’t have been.” She stops just before the corner building’s entrance, and places a hoof on the glass. “You ready?”

Twilight excitedly lifts the object she had been carrying with her magic up close to her gleeful smile. It’s a thin, large package, plain and unlabeled, except for a small sticker on the top with a string of random characters.

Dr. Heartstrings nods, and lifts up a single silver key with her own magic. Upon pressing it into the door lock, and turning it with a satisfying click, Lyra swings the door inward, and allows passage into the dark room before them. Both mares instinctively light their horns to better reveal the room’s contents, of which there are very few.

The glow of the ponies’ horns illuminates a large white room, lined with booths next to the shuttered windows, and tables hidden under dust covers in the remaining space. There’s a bar close to the inner wall, where somepony with a creative mind might be able to imagine a chatty group of mares and stallions discussing nothing of consequence over sandwiches and shakes, as foals run playfully around the clean tile floor. For now, though, there was only darkness.

There’s a distant rumbling of a door handle and furniture moving, drawing both mares’ attention to a staircase behind the restrooms in the back. “Lyra? That you?” A voice cries out.

“Down here, Crane.”

Dark, brown hooves first appear on the lower steps, followed by their earth pony owner. A bulky stallion; obviously not opposed to eating his fill, but with a muscular figure that mostly still shows through the fat. “...And Princess Twilight Sparkle?” The stallion squints from his dark side of the room.

“Hello,” Twilight responds awkwardly, still not quite able to make out the pony’s face in all of the darkness.

“Don’t tell me Lyra’s roped you inna’ running this place too…” Crane’s voice is deep, and growly.

“Oh, move past it.” Dr. Heartstrings turns to explain to Twilight. “Crane’s my ex’s brother, and he agreed to help cover her end of this place after we split. Though he acts like I forced him…”

Crane snickers as he moves finally to the bottom of the steps and out onto the floor. “You know, I never understood how my sis’ could walk out on a mare like you.” Lyra cocks her head and coolly rolls her eyes off to the side.

“Flattery’s nice, but I’d rather see the power back on…”

“You said to take care of that this weekend!”

“It’s Saturday!”

“Which means I still have another day.”

Lyra stares at the stallion under the light of her horn, then chortles and shakes her head. “Good to see you again, Crane.” The mare steps forward, and embraces the other pony with a forehoof over his shoulder. Crane does the same, smiling and patting her back with all the extra length his leg has.

“Likewise.”

After they break the hug, Lyra’s quick to glance over her shoulder at the princess, then turn back again to explain the situation. “We’re just gonna be in the back, alright? Generator still there?”

“Well I haven’t moved it.”

“Naturally.” Lyra quips, leading Twilight past the counter and through the kitchen.

The two mares part ways with the large stallion, who wishes them well and then returns to his office upstairs. As his hoofsteps creek on the floorboards above, Lyra and Twilight enter a storage room behind the kitchen, the former mare immediately groaning at the sight of things.

“Ugh… we might be in here for a while.” She says, shuffling through a few cardboard boxes. Twilight approaches from her side, and begins to help move objects around with her own magic. She still holds the mysteriously labeled packaged by her side, and splitting her magic in so many different ways dims the light over her horn.

“Crane seems nice. You two have known each other for a while?”

“Technically, about as long as I knew my ex, that being… well, years.” Twilight remains quiet as she watches her friend lean over a box and flip through its contents. “But the last year specifically is when I really got to know him.”

The alicorn nods slowly, then returns to walking around the room and looking over the stacks of boxes and furniture. “I’m sorry, Lyra. It sounds like you guys were pretty close…”

“With Crane?” Lyra’s head pops up from under a pile of dusty containers. “Oh,” She smiles and rolls her eyes at her own cluelessness. “With my marefriend. Yeah, we were pretty close.” The unicorn spots a particular detail through the darkness, and moves in close to begin uncovering it. “It’s in the past. I’m just glad we both landed on our hooves, and that we’re still—” Lyra grunts as she moves a particularly large box out of the way. “—on good enough terms.”

Curious, Twilight raises her own head to try and see what’s holding Lyra’s attention. “Did you find the generator?”

“Yep.” Twilight can hear her colleague cough—likely from all of the dust they had been kicking up—and then a series of small clicks as she kneels down and fiddles with the contraption. Shortly after, a low hum begins to fill the air, and both of the mares’ lights flicker as the hair on their coats stands up.

“Oh!” Princess Twilight exclaims, as a flash of colorful light cuts through the darkness.

“Did it turn on?”

The light and mechanical whirring draws Twilight closer to the newfound machine. “Yep! At least, I’m assuming this is it.”

Lyra pushes her way through the piled boxes and canters excitedly over to where her friend stands. “That’s it alright.”

Twilight is leaning against the curved wooden display on the jukebox as Lyra approaches, bright colors of red and yellow emitting from all around the curve. After reaching it, and accidentally bumping into a box full of what sounds like silverware, she leans down to the machine’s side, and inspects the lock.

Princess Twilight instinctively pushes off from the jukebox as she realizes what her cohort is doing, Lyra releasing the lock with a click and then pivoting the front face of the device open. Inside is an empty disk platter; and a carousel, and a dozen or so exposed mechanical parts.

When Lyra looks back up and away from the machine, the princess smiles gleefully, and extends the sealed package forward with her magic.

“Care to do the honors?” Lyra asks a surprised Twilight.

“Me?”

The mint colored unicorn simply smiles and nods, a hoof extended out over the disk platter. Twilight laughs nervously, then slowly begins to release the sticker seal over the flat package. When she’s finished, an unmarked disk is pulled out in the field of her violet magic. She takes one last look at Lyra, as if to confirm she really did have permission, then moves cautiously toward the brightly-lit jukebox.

The record goes on without a hitch, aided likely by the meticulous and somewhat unnecessary caution Twilight takes to place it. Then, having completed her task, the alicorn happily steps back from the machine, and allows Lyra to finish the job.

“...I would like to see this place up and running, you know?”

Twilight cocks her head curiously at the unicorn’s comment. “Well… sure. Why wouldn’t you?”

Lyra steps forward and looks out over the disk carousel. “I just think there’s a really good opportunity here. For something special.” She removes one of the old disks out of its sleeve, and holds it by her side before pressing down on a coin-sized metal lever. Finally, she taps twice on a small metal switch located in the top left corner of a collection of switches. With the front hatch closed, this is likely where the song selection inputs on the outside would line up.

A small motor revives itself, and whirs noisily as it rotates the carousel to the far end, then allows a metal crane to grapple helplessly at the space where Lyra removed a disk. The unknowing crane makes its way back around, and places the non-existent record on top of the one already on the platter; the one Twilight had placed.

The two mares look at one another, then allow the machine to work, its metal tonearm quick to pivot over the disk and drop its needle down.

The silence that ensues is harrowing. There’s a bit of grainy texture that comes through the speaker, and the record is clearly shown to be spinning under the warm light of the jukebox. But no instruments can be heard, nor voice.

Just as disappointment settles in, and Twilight finally gets relief from her excited shivering, the sound changes. The unmistakable sound of an acoustic guitar rings out, though garbled as it may be. The two mares look excitedly at one another almost simultaneously, as the guitar continues to play alone. And both mares are quick to return their gaze to the record, as if it might do anything other than turn.

After the guitar is slowly plucked through a few chords, it returns to the first chord. Only this time, a voice joins the melody.

“My girl, my girl! don’t lie to me, tell me wheeeere did you sleep last night?”

Lyra exhales softly through her nose. She stares onward at the entrancing spin of the disk, while the unidentified man sings through another line.

“In the pines, in the pines! Where the sun, don’t ever shine, I would shiveeeer… whole night through.”

“Hmm.” Dr. Heartstrings begins. “Clearly recorded early on in their time, judging from the distortion.” She pauses to listen a little longer. “Maybe… ‘30s or ‘40s?”

Lyra glances over to Twilight for input, but is only met with silence—and the awestruck left on the princess’s muzzle.

“...I—” Her voice catches in her throat, and Twilight is simply unable to say anything else.

Lyra finally loses her composure, and stifles a laugh as she excitedly rocks back-and-forth on her hooves. “I know!”

The two ponies share a moment of childlike glee with one another, before turning back around and listening in awe at the sound of the ancient being’s voice. Their horns were dark now, and only the glow of the jukebox provides a soft rim light between the two mares.

* * *

Deep in the forest of White Tail, under pitch darkness and a light rain, lies a cottage. Candles glow in its windows, and smoke rises out of its chimney in thick, shapeless clouds. The sound of raindrops can be heard plinking against the roof gutters, just above the empty porch out front. And every now and then, a cool breeze will pick up, and rattle the screen door against its frame.

Two griffons occupy the house. One is a female, large, and with a long scar just over the arch of her brow. The other is smaller, a male who paces steadily back and forth through the living room with a pistol holstered to his hip, and a pained expression on his face.

“Would you sit the fuck down? Making me nervous just watching you…” The larger griffon asks around a half-smoked cigarette.

“Boss, I’m sorry, I gotta take a piss.”

“Well take a fucking piss, then! I already told you you could.” She snaps at him. “‘Less you need me to aim it for you, too?”

The male griffon looks nervously at his boss, then shakily nods his head. “I’ll be real quick.”

With that, he heads off down the hall, out of the living room he was pacing in, and past the table that the other griffon sits at. A radio sits next to her, a pack of smokes and a heavily used ashtray next to that. Further still along the table, is a flintlock pistol, easily reachable by the griffon’s massive talons.

She flicks the cherry of her cigarette over the ashtray, then shouts down the hall in the direction the other griffon took; even after his tail had long since disappeared behind the corner. “And hurry the hell up!”

The radio is at a low volume, not much louder than the crackle of the fireplace, or the soft sheets of rain landing above the house. It drones on about the scores of two baseball teams, every now and then the screams of the audience audible behind the sound of the sports broadcasters’ voices.

One sound in the house particularly stands out. It’s the screen door—bashing against its wooden frame every time the wind allows it to. From where she’s sitting, the griffon with a scar over her eye can easily watch the front door, and the screen door behind it. She drills in her focus on it, the cherry at the end of her cigarette growing longer as she simply lets it dangle out of beak like it was a permanent part of her anatomy. Sometimes the door would slam harder than usual. Sometimes it would swing, and not make a sound at all.

After choking back a cough, and plucking the hot remnants of the cigarette from her mouth, the griffon finally looks away from the living room, and instead watches the glow of the radio’s display. Very soon, though, she finds herself called back to the sway of the exterior door.

“Hey!” The griffon shouts as she turns back around and adjusts the radio’s volume to be silent. “What the fuck’s taking so long?”

A creek on the floorboards and slowly moving shadow sends a chill down the griffon’s spine. She bolts up and places a claw over the pistol just as the tip of Cave’s own gun reveals itself from the shadows.

“Stop. Move away from the table.”

The griffon doesn’t budge. Her claw remains firmly planted on top of the nearby gun.

Cave was completely out of the hallway’s shadow now, and in the light of the kitchen. “Maggs… I’m not feeling particularly patient tonight…” Three thin, long scars can be seen running from the top of his head almost down to his chin.

Maggs remains frozen, wings half extended. She takes a good look at the diamond dog’s eyes, and folds under their cold, unblinking stare. Slowly, her talons extend upward, and her body leans back away from the table. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding, Cave.”

Cave lightly grips his chest with his free paw as a stifled cough makes its way out of his mouth, and he motions off to the side with his gun. “—The couch.”

Maggs’s wings finally fold against her side, and she slowly begins her walk toward the living room couch. Cave simply follows her with the barrel of his gun, eyes unmoving from the large, predatory creature. When she finally finds her seat, he strafes slowly to the kitchen table, keeping the gun to the back of the griffon’s head, then picks up the pistol that she originally had her talons wrapped around.

On his trip to the living room, where Maggs sits, Cave drags one of the empty chairs at the table along with him. It glides slowly along the kitchen linoleum, then screeches loudly as it slides along the living room floorboards. Just as he’s readying himself to sit down, and place the spare gun on the dresser next to him, Maggs makes a request.

“Can I smoke?”

Cave pauses. He looks at the griffon, an almost playful smirk on her face, and to the table in the kitchen, with the pack of cigarettes still lying there. The diamond dog takes both pistols with him, and retrieves the pack so he can toss it to the griffon.

“Thanks.” She replies, pulling out a match.

With a chance to finally sit down now, Cave relaxes in his chair facing the griffon, and with his back turned to the fireplace. Its warm glow draws a flickering silhouette over him.

“I guess…” Maggs starts, inhaling to get the small flame at the end of the match to catch. “...we have a lot to discuss.” The diamond dog at the other end of the room doesn’t move. Instead, he leans lazily against the dresser, gun kept pointed straight at Maggs. “Considering I have no earthly fucking idea what you’re trying to pull.”

Cave remains quiet. He takes the time to study the griffon; her posture, relaxed against the sofa but with talons practically dug into its arm. Her long pauses with the cigarette, where she simply allows it to dangle between her fingers, and allow the smoke to rise above them. “...A couple days ago, Arnold broke into my house.”

Maggs takes a draw from her cigarette, and narrows her eyes at the creature.

“He tried to kill me with this gun.” Cave flicks his eyes down at the pistol, but doesn’t dare move it away from its target.

The griffon scoffs. “Never was very bright. Guessing that roach was still mad about the bits.”

“I don’t think so.”

There’s a quiet gap that the crackling of the fireplace occupies. Maggs stares in confusion at her underling, who’s posture and joyless expression remains. “Oh, Cave—you don’t seriously think I ordered a hit on you, do you? Arnold was just jealous, he woul—”

“Arnold was a coward.” Cave interjects. “He was afraid of me. And he never would have pulled something like this unless…” He groans as he pushes off of the dresser and leans forward in his chair. “...unless someone he was more afraid of told him to.”

There’s no response. Smoke rises to the side of Maggs’s head, and her eyes stare unblinking at the creature in the room. “...Cave.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He’s quick to say. The chair creaks as he shifts his weight back again. “I’m not robbing banks and trains anymore.”

Maggs nods her head slightly, and looks about the room as she collects her thoughts. “...Well, sure, Cave. I mean if there had ever been any of you guys who I thought had it in ‘em to go straight, it was you.” Cave doesn’t respond, and instead allows the griffon to rattle on. “You know I’ve got connections up north? Sometimes I daydream about putting all this shit behind me, and just heading up there for a fresh start. Way I hear it, their rivers are so bloated with fish you can just cut a hole in the ice, drop a line, and the little fuckers will hook themselves!” Maggs enjoys a soft chuckle, the only one in the audience. It doesn’t take long for the smile to fade, and for the severity in her voice to return. “...You can have that, you know. A fresh start.”

Cave remains still, with his shoulder leaned against the dresser, and the gun still pointed forward. “I have a story.”

There’s a fear in Maggs’s eyes as she lifts up the cigarette for another drag, and listens closely to Cave’s tale.

“It’s about my father. John Walker. He was a railway tycoon, as I’m sure you know. Company laid more than half the tracks in Equestria. And he acted the part—rarely saw the family, and what time we did have with him…” Cave’s eyes sink low just as he trails off. “...He had this funny little saying he’d cling to. ‘Everything happens for a reason’... I grew so sick of hearing it. Like some higher power had given him riches, so that he could neglect the family at best, and tear it apart at worst. ‘Everything happens for a reason’, he’d tell me… as he beat my mother and raped my sister. The day would finally come where John repaid his debt to those higher powers, and cancer would take his life. And not a soul mourned him.”

Silence again. This time, even the crackle of the fireplace is barely registered by Maggs, who sits unmoving and tensed at the end of the couch. She swallows, unable to speak without first clearing her bone-dry throat. “Shit… Cave, I didn’t—I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” He responds nonchalantly. “It feels as if that was a lifetime ago. I’ve had plenty of time to move on since then, but… you know what I’ve realized? He was right.”

The glow at the end of Maggs’s cigarette has almost completely consumed the paper, despite the griffon’s slow commitment to smoking it. She looks up from it, and to the diamond dog in front of the fireplace, then begins to shakily form her words. “...Cave.” Her head shakes almost violently. “Not like this. Please.”

There’s no shift in Cave’s posture or deadpan expression; only the parting of his lips as he prepares to deliver the verdict. “I’m sorry, Maggs.” He stands up and pulls the hammer back into full cock. “But I can’t let you stand in the way of destiny.”

“Oh, PLEASE NO! N—” There’s a thunderous crack in the room, and a large cloud of smoke that rises from the gun. The bullet passes through the griffon’s head before either of them can notice, just under her right eye. Blood instantly begins to pour out of her nostrils, staining her beak and chest feathers. The body convulses violently, and her lifeless, glazed over eyes stare up at nothing.

After the smoke clears, and the spasms in Maggs’s corpse are reduced to nothing but twitches in her talons, Cave stands alone. His arm remains outstretched, despite the threat being naturalized, and the gun emptied. He stares coldly at the lifeless body before him, as blood still pours freely from one nostril. There were remains scattered against the couch fabric behind her head, and a growing dark spot on the cushion beneath her that—had you not seen the body—might be mistaken for a leak in the roof, as it drips steadily to the floor.

Cave finally lowers his arm. The smell of gunpowder was thick in the air. Floorboards creak beneath his paws, as he walks to the window in front of the living room, and peers out into the darkness. Rain still pours gently beyond the glass, and a breeze shakes the surrounding trees. The woods appear to stretch endlessly, out in the darkness. Like nothing but the void lies beyond.

Takedown

Author's Note

Chapter Three Recap :
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1rvcVoDfIXJo6J4lUIgfF1zPt1RrMkmqUwAWVPWpTOBI/edit?usp=sharing

Takedown

The tall heavy doors of Canterlot castle groan as they swing open, and a crowd of lively ponies shambles out. Their attention—and their cameras—are pointed toward a single mare in the center of the group. Her fiery curls bounce with every step she takes out into the hall, and her shiny red heels clop loudly against the polished stone beneath them. A confident smile is planted firmly on her muzzle, more than apparent in the abundance of photos the paparazzi takes.

“Senator, this is a monumental win for your bill, how are you feeling?”

Senator Peach looks in the general direction of the other mare who had so desperately clawed her way to the front of the pack. “I’m feeling confident, and hopeful. But never would I call it ‘my’ bill; it belongs to all of the ponies of Equestria. And it will serve us well.”

The senator’s response sparks a deluge of new questions, mostly garbled and unintelligible over top one another. The crowd moves further away from the doorway, and the pair of guards flanking either side. Above the group is a massive chandelier, and below them, many levels of spiraling staircases and golden statues. The hubbub draws a bit of a crowd down below, too, as many ponies interrupt their schedules to stop and lean back over their floor’s railing, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening.

Another question is finally made audible. “Senator could this at all have an effect on the investigation in Baltimare, involving the escaped prisoner and the missing guard?”

“I will not be discussing, to any length, the details of ongoing crime cases.” The pens start to scrawl, and the voices begin to raise, but not before Senator Peach can add one additional comment. “This is the start of something very big, though. And in the future, we may have the means to stop such heinous crimes before they even begin. Thank you, that will be all.”

The room is lost in a roar of questioning. Mrs. Peach remains true to her word, and ignores all of it, instead heading straight for the top of the long stairway down.

A stallion with a curious, distraught look on his face, and tangles in his mane, calls out from the fringes of the group. “SENATOR!” He shoves his way past the others, earning a number of curses and yelps. When he finally has a clear view of the mare, their eyes briefly meet. There’s a wild, dangerous flame in his.

Suddenly, the stallion charges the mare, and rams her toward the railing with his head. The few media ponies behind the scene scream and dodge wildly out of the way, or are otherwise shoved aside from the stallion’s frightening strength. Senator Peach is slammed against the metal railing with force, and then heaved over with the weight of the earth pony’s shoulder.

Mrs. Peach flails wildly outward, but fails to maintain a grip on anything. She plummets with horrifying speed down to the first floor, and only gains the sense to start screaming in the last milliseconds of her fall. She hits the marble floor with an echoing thud, and two of her candy red heels are sent flying away from her.

Quickly, panic breaks out in the chamber. A mare on the bottom floor, close to where the senator had landed, begins screaming incoherently, and the Canterlot guards immediately fan out. They wrestle with the suspect at the top level, as the journalists snap photographs of the arrest and the corpse, mangled unnaturally some hundred feet below them.

The culprit’s mane dangles messily over his eyes, and he lashes out against the physical restraints the guards have on him. “AAAGH! CELESTIA BE PRAISED! I DID IT FOR OUR SWEET HOMELAND, CELESTIA BE PRAISED!”

At the fringes of the pile on top of the stallion, a pegasus guard looks back at his cohorts rushing up the steps, then shouts orders over the chaos. “GET THESE PONIES OUT OF HERE, NOW!”

* * *

Rainbow Dash rubs deep against the skin under her eye with a forehoof. She glares through the glass before her, and at the stallion sitting at the end of a table in the brightly lit room. Her mane hangs low, and is disheveled, strands of the rainbow color bent in every direction imaginable. There are dark bags under her eyes, highlighting them like some kind of hastily applied makeup.

After she’s had enough of a look, Dash walks over to the room’s only door, and forces her way inside. She barely looks at the stallion, before turning and making sure the door is closed behind her. And then the pegasus approaches the other end of the table, where she noisily pushes aside the chair in favor of standing.

“Let’s get this over with…” She murmurs, perhaps more to herself than the other pony. “You’re with The Equestrians. You were ordered to kill Senator Peach either by Aegis, or someone under him, as a way of upholding your twisted values about Equestria and the so-called ‘threat’ that The Vault brings.” She pauses for a moment, watching the small twitches and rocking the stallion exhibits. “That sound about right?”

He groans, and mouths something inaudible with his lips.

“Speak up!”

The earth pony looks up at the captain, and instead of responding, only makes a crooked smile at the mare. His exposed teeth are discolored, and uneven.

Obviously this doesn’t sit well with Rainbow Dash, who shoves the chair all the way to the back wall, and angrily paces to his end of the table. “Do you have any idea how much shit you’re in right now?” She barks in his ear. “I could get you locked away for life faster than you could blink.” There’s no response. The pony’s eyes don’t even look over to Dash’s. “Did Aegis put you up to this?”

This comment elicits the first reaction out of the suspect, who turns his head almost far enough to stare at Dash. The moment is fleeting though.

Down the hall, another pony slowly approaches the interrogation room. A pegasus, like Dash, with an unkempt mane that seems to contradict the bun in the back of her mane, held in place by a single, long metal hair stick.

“Don’t bother pretending to not know what I’m talking out. You kind of screwed that up when you were out there ranting about your ‘sweet homeland’.” The stallion being interrogated begins mumbling incoherently under his breath. “I know damn well you’re with The Equestrians.”

He looks up, slowly and more controlled now, then locks eyes with the pegasus standing over his shoulder. “I act only as a hoof of our beloved queen. Her will is mine.”

The pegasus in the hall is much closer now. The lights hanging overhead in the hall create a sort of striped tunnel, and they reveal more detail on the pony’s back each time she passes under one. When lit, the scarring and warped flesh on her back and wings becomes plainly visible, even against her washed out, grayish violet coat.

Rainbow Dash pushes away from the table, and begins to slowly circle behind the stallion. “Yeah well ‘your queen’ is about to have you rot in a cell for the rest of your life. You’d think she’d be a little more grateful for somepony acting on behalf of ‘her will’.”

“She must have soldiers, she must have sacrifice. I am willing to fill this role.”

Captain Dash scoffs. “Of course you are.”

Tired and annoyed, Rainbow simply walks to the other end of the room, and pushes through the door without looking behind her. Almost immediately the pegasus is approached by another, who steps forward and offers a sealed envelope from the crook of her wing.

“Captain Rainbow Dash, my name is Moon Dust. Princess Celestia has sent me to conduct a private interrogation with this stallion.” Her voice is low and sickly sounding, like she had been smoking since she learned to canter.

Dash grabs the letter with her own wing, and instantly recognizes the golden wax seal on the outside. She isn’t given any time to read it, however, as Moon Dust almost immediately starts off toward the door. Dash blocks her with a forehoof. “Hey! I don’t care who sent you, this is still my suspect!”

The pegasus with a washed out violet coat takes a step back, and quickly inspects the other mare from hoof to mane. “The matter’s urgent, Captain.” Again, she steps toward the door, and again, Rainbow Dash blocks her.

“I know it’s urgent, but it’s still my suspect!”

Moon Dust pauses, and studies the other pony’s annoyed scowl. “Captain Rainbow Dash. I was selected to work with the princesses for a very specific reason, and I’ve been performing for them for many years. I don’t ask questions. I don’t relent. I get the job done.”

Dash doesn’t move an inch, but she doesn’t retort either. Her tired eyes narrow a little more as Moon Dust leans in close, and lowers her voice to be just louder than a whisper. “I know you want answers. I can help you as much as you can help me. Just give me five minutes alone with him. Five minutes, and we can finally start fighting back against these bastards...”

Dash’s expression remains unchanged, and her lips sealed shut. Her pupils focus like lasers on the mysterious mare, and her wings flap once; an aggressive and silent response. She turns around, approaches the glass, then reaches out to a small metal console jutting out from the wall. Two small, metal switches flip without resistance under her hoof, next to the labels ‘mic 1’ and ‘mic 2’. The pony then trots off, and never takes another glance at the scene behind her.

Moon Dust watches the mare leave slowly. Once the captain is a good distance away, and the sounds of her hoofsteps fade into an echo, Moon Dust finally finishes her approach to the door. She keeps her eyes forward as she enters the room, and uses a wing to remove the metal hair stick in the back of her mane. It comes out slowly, the thinning rod gleaming under the room’s bright lights, until its knife-like point is finally revealed.

* * *

A choir of bird calls and the distant sound of a dog barking set the appropriately rural scene at Sweet Apple Acres. As Fall had swept over the land, it’d turned the pastel palette of summer into a warm, red and brown medley, half of the orchard’s leaves off of their branches and scattered about the farmland.

Inside the large house, ponies gather happily around a table filled with colored drinks and plates full of delicacies. Mashed potatoes, salads, sandwiches; and perhaps most notably, slices of warm apple pie had been shared among the smiling mares and stallions.

“Pass me that gravy, will ya hun?” Applejack asks, with her signature ten-gallon hat hung behind her on the chair. Mint Julep softly acknowledges her request, grabs the gravy boat beside him, and passes it onward as he continues to nod attentively at Granny Smith’s story.

“...Now, this must’a been… ooooh, I dunno, ‘least before the second zap apple shortage, back when Apple Rose was having her… hip exam…”

Pinkie Pie leans back in her chair and rubs her stomach in delight. “Mmmm, this pie is just delicious! What’s in it, A.J.? Pear? Sugar plum? Apricot?”

“Pinkie, you know what’s in the pie...” Applejack says dismissively from her side of the table. “Apple Bloom, you’ve barely touched your food.”

The teen to Applejack’s left suddenly looks up from the full plate before her. “I’ll just eat at Blue’s.”

“No, you’ll eat a meal with your family, instead of a bunch of chips and—whatever other junk you eat over there.”

Apple Bloom scoffs dramatically, then noisily pushes her chair away from the table. She leaves the dining room and makes for the stairs, where her thumping hoofsteps can be heard above the room’s occupants. A.J.’s fork clacks against her plate as she drops it in frustration. She sighs heavily, then turns to look at her husband, who offers a meek but nonetheless comforting smile.

“...No,” Granny Smith suddenly breaks the silence with. “It was a hearing test…”

The evening moves much slower after dinner. For A.J., she was happy to spend it alone in her room with Mint Julep, who paroozes through the suits hanging up in the closet while Applejack brushes her mane in front of a plane, wooden vanity. She glances off to the side when Mint curses quietly under his breath.

“Hey, hun? Have you seen my blue tie?”

“Uh, not since last week.” A.J. halfheartedly replies.

Eventually, Mint Julep hangs his head and sighs, using the wooden closet frame to lean on.

A.J. watches her reflection intently, shaking her head before a certain thought makes its way to her lips. “I wish I knew what’d gotten into her…”

Mint looks over his shoulder at his wife. She sits perfectly still before the vanity mirror, brushing diligently through her golden blonde mane, and her hat resting on the counter before her, no more than a hoof’s reach away. Like it always was.

Mint Julep finally pushes off of the wall and circles around the room to be with his wife, sitting down onto the bed next to her. A.J. smiles briefly at his appearance, then returns to the work on her hair. “Wish I knew what to do with her.”

The stallion leans in so that his forelegs can rest on his knees, and so that he can be closer to Applejack.

“Maybe if Mom and Dad were here…” She murmurs just loud enough for Mint to hear.

“Hey,” Mint begins, softly placing a hoof on the mare’s shoulder. “...you’ve done nothing wrong. She’s just going through a phase.”

Applejack puts her brush down and raises the corner of her mouth in a half-smile, but otherwise shows no response. The bed creaks as her husband pushes off of it, then she watches in the mirror as he approaches the vacant spot behind her. The two of them stare at the reflection before them, the image not too dissimilar from a family photo you might see framed on the wall; small as its cast may be.

“I’m going to have to head into the city for work next week; then again in another couple of weeks.” He places his hoof back over Applejack’s shoulder. “Apple Bloom’s always going on about how much greater the city is than out here; she can stay awhile with my sister, she gets what she wants, and then we can spend that time on a little vacation…” A.J. smiles more sincerely as Mint Julep leans in closer. “...together.”

The orange mare wraps her own hoof around Mint’s, and holds it close enough for a small peck from her lips. “I love you. Ya know that?”

Mint Julep smiles and moves his head soundlessly downward, until it can rest on Applejack’s shoulder opposite the one his hoof is resting on. “I know.” A.J.’s eyelids come down to rest as her husband kisses gently at her neck. “I love you as well.” His hoof begins to caress slowly against the mare’s shoulder, as his muzzle brushes lightly against her neck and shoulder fur. Applejack simply presses herself against his hoof and breathes in the stallion’s scent, cooing softly into his coat while his massage continues.

Eventually, his head slowly retracts, and Applejack’s lustful gaze follows as he circles around her and places himself between her and the mirror. Their muzzles meet directly for the first time that evening, and the two share a kiss that’s probably a little longer and louder than the ones they share in front of the family. “I want to make you happy.” Mint says between kisses. Applejack wraps her forehooves around the back of his neck, and twists her head each time their mouths meet. “You deserve—” He continues softly, as his mouth begins to slide below her chin and onto her neck. “—to be happy.”

Applejack’s hooves slide over Mint’s back and shoulders in slow, circular massages. His head sinks lower as his bottom half crouches down, and his trail of kisses explores new parts of A.J.’s body. This leads to her heart rate increasing, and her breaths to be more drawn out. The fur on her chest—disheveled from Mint Julep’s descent—rises and sinks with each shaky exhale the mare makes. She watches with eyes half open at the reflection before her, and tightens her grip over Mint’s neck and head, just enough to prevent her from falling backwards off the stool in her lustful haze. The stallion’s body had disappeared almost completely from the reflection, leaving only his short, well-groomed mane and ears visible, just above A.J.’s spread thighs.

“HEY! I need to borrow twenty bits from you guys tonight!” A young voice calls out from elsewhere in the house. Applejack scoffs, then smiles sympathetically at the stallion looking up from between her legs.

“Why don’t we put a pin in this, huh cowboy?” Applejack says to her husband, in a nearly whispered tone. Mint Julep sighs, and rolls the mare’s hoof off of his shoulder so that he can bring it to his lips for a soft kiss.

“Sure.” He replies. The two reluctantly slide their hooves off of one another, and the intimacy that they had only just so passionately shared, vanishes like a candle being extinguished.

* * *

The bright bathroom lights beat down on the sink ledge below, and the pristine porcelain tiles below them. The faucet comes on full blast with a twist of the mare’s hoof, and the item held in her teeth is suddenly dropped, clattering lightly against the marble ledge. Hooves bearing a dull violet coat quickly get to washing the metal stick, dark and bloody bubbles forming in the basin below them.

When Moon Dust leaves the bathroom, it’s with the serrated metal hair stick placed back into her mane, and a dry scowl worn over her muzzle. She wastes no time locating Captain Rainbow Dash, who leans against the corner of one of the castle’s many halls, right next to a potted plant.

No words are shared between the two mares. Moon Dust simply walks up, passes off a small piece of paper into Dash’s extended wing, then slips past the pegasus without so much as a glance.

Rainbow Dash pushes off from the wall and inspects the small note. On it, are several addresses in Canterlot and Ponyville, written poorly in a dry ink.

* * *

A cool Fall breeze rolls through the city. Dash and a group of heavily armored ponies approach a large, wooden door at the end of a warehouse. The lot is quiet, and secluded from the main road where dozens of ponies trot about. Dead tree leaves fall from the canopies above, and crunch underhoof as the group moves into position.

Rainbow Dash throws her hoof up, and watches as her subordinates fall into their positions surrounding the door, then cease to move at all. Their eyes are all trained on their captain, as she pounds into the wooden door with frightening force.

“This is the police! Everyone inside, lay down and put your forehooves out in front of you!” She pauses, and looks back at the hooful of ponies stationed behind her. The overgrowth above surely helped keep the place inconspicuous to folk—nopony would be blamed for thinking it was completely abandoned. But it also kept the glaring sun out of the officers’ eyes. “If you do not comply, you will be seen as a threat, and we will use force!” Clattering metal and rushing hoofsteps can be heard from inside the building.

Dash steps away from the door, and points toward it with her extended wing tip. A massive, muscular earth pony about twenty paces away from the door snorts in acknowledgement, and bows his head down so that it’s aligned with the door. Atop his mane is a hulking piece of metal, a sort of helmet molded into the shape of a bull head and horns. He scrapes at the ground with a forehoof, then charges straight ahead, and straight into the warehouse entrance.

The wood buckles and splinters under the massive impact, sending debris all over the rusty interior of the building. Many ponies were already making a run for it, some were obeying instructions and lying flat on the ground—and a few, like a thin green unicorn on the balcony above, hastily take aim at the police with a flintlock pistol.

Rainbow Dash walks slowly through the clearing dust and debris, and allows her unit to do what they had spent years training to do. Bright, lurid flashes of light bolt past her, and stun anypony who’s foolish enough to retaliate. Dash looks around the structure with an eagle’s awareness, and takes off when she hones in on a pair of stallions galloping toward the rear exit.

She reaches them in an instant, taking a swing off of the rusty pipe over their heads to kick with both hind legs straight into the back of the first pony’s mane. The stallion goes down immediately, and the swing breaks the pipe loose off of the ceiling, forcing Dash to spin around in the middle of her jump. Which she does—without a hitch.

Rainbow Dash lands gracefully on all four hooves, sliding back a few inches from the momentum, and now directly facing the remaining stallion. With his mouth agape and his eyes wide open, he cranes his neck for the piece of piping that had fallen down onto the cement next to him, and holds in a tight grip between his teeth.

Dash doesn’t move. Instead, she leans down into a more predatory stance, and anchors herself into position. The hall isn’t big enough for a fight to be avoided, and her glaring eyes and wicked snarl are practically begging for the opposing pony to make a move. His nervous eyes dart wildly up and down over his potential foe.

The rusty pipe falls to the ground with a noisy clang, as the pony goes prone and submits himself to Rainbow’s mercy. She relaxes her stance, and begins feeling around for the bundle of zip ties resting against her flank armor.

“Anypony hurt?” She shouts around the corner of the hall, past the two stallions lying incapacitated on the ground before her.

“Captain…” A voice calls out. “You’re gonna wanna see this.”

Rainbow Dash tightens the zip tie against the stallion’s upper legs, binding them together and preventing him from running. She rounds the corner at the end of the hall and looks over the damage in the warehouse. Many struggling ponies were strewn about the dirty concrete floor, as Dash’s unit restrains them. Three of the officers in particular stand over a wooden crate, a cartoon-ish cow and milk jar logo labeled on the side, and its top pried off with unicorn magic.

Dash leans over the side of the crate, and stares down at its contents. “...Yeah…” She muses aloud.

Inside are dozens of muskets, stacked neatly in order and surrounded by bits of hay.

Captain Rainbow Dash turns away from the box and flaps her wings once against her black armor. She looks around the massive room, at the diligent officers creating a perimeter around the lot, and the remaining crates that still lined the walls.

“What’s our next move, Captain?” Asks a young pegasus from behind Dash.

Rainbow continues to looks onward, focusing on a pair of her officers grapple with a particularly aggressive smuggler. “Let’s finish up here.” She pivots around so that she can talk more directly to her subordinate. “We need to get word back to headquarters, and all of this in the books.” She pats the top of the crate during the end of her instructions. The pegasus mare standing with Dash nods firmly, then flies off to join her crew.

Rainbow Dash turns all the way around now, and places both hooves up on the edge of the box. Her eyes are tired and bored as they peer down at the rifles. “Looks like I owe somepony a visit…”

* * *

Moonlight beams down on the streets as a small group of armored ponies moves in on a house. Rainbow Dash is at the helm, and she wastes no time barging up to the front door and knocking hard enough so that it rattles on its frame. “This is the police,” She begins, with just a tad less energy than earlier in the day. “open up!”

Hooves shuffle in place behind Rainbow Dash, as her team steels themselves for another possible incident. A pair of ponies at the street corner near the house scurry away from the scene, their scared expressions briefly exposed by the overhanging street lights.

Again, Dash pounds on the outside of the door. “If you don’t comply, we will use force!”

Candle light slowly appears from behind the curtained window. After another short moment of waiting, the door finally unlocks, and a middle-aged mare steps tepidly into the doorway. “W-what is going on?”

Rainbow Dash lowers her voice to speak with the mare, but keeps the severity of her tone. “Ma’am, we have reason to believe that your husband is involved with a serious criminal plot.” Before the unicorn mare can even respond, Dash pushes past her, and leads a stallion in with her so that his magic can light the room.

“Criminal?” She utters in a shaky tone. “No, no no—you can’t just—”

“This is urgent, ma’am. We’ll be out of your mane in just a minute.”

The unicorn stallion canters up the flight of stairs, leaving Rainbow and the middle-aged mare alone in the candlelight. “My husband has done nothing wrong!”

Dash stares into the wife’s eyes, and sees the conviction. She was either right, or left hopelessly in the dark about her husband’s life beyond these walls.

After no more than a minute of the stallion’s hoofsteps stomping around upstairs, he returns back to the living room, and meets his captain’s gaze dead on. He shakes his head, and Rainbow’s frown begins to twist into more of a snarl.

“Where is your husband?” She directs back at the wife. “Where’s Aegis?”

The unicorn shakes her head as tears begin to form. “I don’t know!” Rainbow Dash looks around the dark room and taps her hoof impatiently while she waits for more of an explanation. “H-he wasn’t home when I came h-home today!”

The captain paces in a small circle on the carpet. She puts a forehoof up on the coffee table—the same one that once divided her and Aegis during their conversation—and stares out the door at the team of directionless officers.

“Damnit!” The table quakes as Rainbow Dash slams her hoof down onto it, and the sobbing mare yelps in shock.

* * *

Red and orange leaves fall all around, occasionally being picked up by the wind, only to be carried off into another pile around the park. Geese float gracefully down the river, and ponies trot happily on the path surrounding the grassy lot and over the small bridge that crosses the water. And on a wooden bench in the center of the park, out in the daylight, sits a gray unicorn with his sunglasses on.

He looks cautiously all around him, and briefly, at the distance between him and the diamond dog raking the leaves out in the grass. Slowly over time, the diamond dog makes his way closer to the stallion on the bench, although he never lifts his gaze up from the leaves at his feet. A navy blue uniform is being worn by the worker, with a flat cap resting firmly between his ears.

“You wanna tell me what’s up with all the theatrics?” Cave quips under his breath, still working to clear out the leaves.

“Keep your voice down.” The unicorn on the bench stares out at the street, but directs his comment at the disguised diamond dog. “I’ll tell you ‘what’s up with the theatrics’ after you explain what the fuck went down at that prison.”

Cave keeps quiet for a moment, and his eyes trained on his work. “...I thought you were the one who said it didn’t matter.”

“Yeah, I said that because I had assumed you’d sucked his cock or something, or paid him off—” The Retriever snaps his head to the side as a mare’s laugh can be heard in the distance. “...Not that you fucking killed him.”

“What difference does it make?”

The unicorn tilts his head to face Cave, mouth hanging slightly ajar. “You’re a real sick piece of shit, you know that?”

Cave continues his work quietly, exposing more of the sidewalk beneath them as he clears off the leaves. “Did you bring what I needed, or not?”

A heavy sigh rolls out of the unicorn’s nostrils. He checks behind him, then turns again to face the street and communicate with the other creature. “It’s under the trash bag in there,” a quick nod to the metal bin next to the bench. “don’t go for it until I’m gone. I’m already sticking my neck out far enough for you.”

Cave nods just subtly enough so that The Retriever can see it, but not so that anypony else in the park can.

“...Especially after that shit The Equestrians pulled at the castle. Wouldn’t be surprised to hear Celestia sending us all into complete fucking martial law.” He curses to the wind. The nearly bare tree branches behind him claw at the cold, cloudless sky. “...Whole world’s going to shit… No sense left anywhere out there…”

Cave pauses his work, and leans a bit into the rake. He watches the unicorn on the bench slowly turn his scowling expression in his direction, and then speak plainer than he ever had with Cave. “I don’t ever want to see your face again. Are we clear?”

The diamond dog’s eyes drop to the ground, then spring back up when he has his answer. “Yeah.” He growls.

The Retriever turns away. Again, laughter can be heard in the distance, but this time neither of the creatures look. The unicorn simply stands up from the bench, fixes his jacket collar, and then strolls out toward the street.

Cave continues to rake needlessly at the path for a bit, watching the unicorn’s silhouette fade into the city. Once it’s gone completely, the diamond dog adjusts the bill of his hat and steps near the trash container, removing the metal lid with relative ease. He sets it on the ground next to him, then lifts the trash bag out and begins to tie it close. As he does so, an item at the bottom of the bin holds his unwavering attention.

He sets the bag down, and reaches into the bottom of the decorative trash container, pulling out a large—and heavy—object wrapped in another trash bag. Cautiously, he takes a look around the park from under the brim of his hat, then slides the plastic far enough back for him to peek at the contents.

Inside is a massive book, an unmarked cover with the exception of a string of random characters written in marker at the top. He slowly peels back the cover to inspect the first of many pages, finding a strange word printed in a bold typeface in the center of an otherwise blank page.

Jeep

Cave closes the book and re-conceals it with the trash bag. Then he tucks it under his left arm, and picks up the other bag with his remaining hand. The rake lies helplessly along the path as Cave walks away, bristles dug into the earth, and handle half covered by blowing leaves.

* * *

Princess Celestia’s crown hangs low, as she bows her head over the balcony railing. The cool Canterlot air tousles her grand, mystically flowing mane, as well as the flowers and vines that envelope the lattice around her. She stares down at the intricate layout of the castle, and the city beyond. A group of armored guards can be seen marching through the streets below.

“...How could something like this happen?”

The two creatures inside the room, Dominus Temporis and the Princess’s sister Luna, both look out at the balcony, and to the alicorn whose profile is only just visible to them. Princess Luna takes the first stab at it. “There’s nothing that could have been done. I know you’re certainly not foolish enough to go and blame yourself.”

Dissatisfied, or perhaps just dissinsterented in hearing an explanation, Celestia turns again to face the city below her.

It’s the amber scaled dragon’s turn now, who pushes off from the pillar he was leaning against to say his piece. “Princess Luna is right. Horrid as the situation may be, it’d be in everypony’s best interest to move forward, and make any further decisions with confidence. The media, as an example...”

“There’s no stopping the headlines now, not at this point.” Luna immediately chimes in. “They were probably writing before the senator’s blood went cold.”

“We won’t stop them.” The princess on the balcony turns away from the ledge and faces her cohorts. “It would only cause more of a controversy. But they should know, revealing any personal details about anypony involved will result in strict punishment for their publisher.”

The two creatures indoors nod their heads in agreement, Dominus affirming vocally as well. “We could enforce that.”

Princess Celestia finally steps inside to join them. “Tomorrow, publicity regulations resume as normal, and I don’t want to see a single headline mentioning the incident.” She delivers her verdict with the confidence everypony in Equestria had come to associate with Celestia, the light coming through the balcony behind her flooding around her pale ivory coat and glimmering off of her golden crown.

“And what about Twilight?” Luna’s question miraculously gives pause to Princess Celestia’s confidence, as she narrows her eyes in confusion.

“What about Twilight?”

The Princess of the Night was technically smaller than her sister, but her posture and radiance was no less imposing to many of Equestria’s citizens. She tilts her head, as if Celestia not knowing what she was referring to came as a surprise. “Her and Lyra have been uncovering humanity’s history at a fairly surprising rate—” Luna stops, allowing Celestia to take another guess at what she might be referring to. It’s a game the elder alicorn refuses to play. “—you’re not worried that they might find something… that they shouldn’t?”

The room grows eerily quiet. Dominus’s eyes dart from the younger sister to Celestia, who’s face remains cold and stern. “No.” She responds powerfully. “I do not.”

Luna sighs. “Sister—I’m just looking out for us.”

“Is that what this is?” Celestia asks clearly, and calmly. The two mares lock eyes, staring across the room at one another.

Before tensions rise too high, there’s a knock on the door. “You may enter.” Luna announces, while still not turning away from her sister.

The door creaks open and a unicorn guard steps through. “Oh, my apologies, I didn’t know—”

“What is your message?” Celestia interjects, before the pony can get too far into his apologetic rambling.

The guard nods, and steps to the side so that both princesses can see him. “There’s somepony down in the lobby who wishes to speak with you, Princess Celestia. A mare by the name of Penny Luck?”

Hearing the name takes a moment to register in the alicorn’s eyes, which look downward as she considers the situation. Dominus Temporis takes the time to speak up. “I can speak with her, if you’ve other affairs to attend to, Princess.”

“No.” Celestia responds with the same confidence she always did. “This tragedy happened under my watch, she deserves to hear from me directly.”

Before anypony else can add something, the ivory alicorn heads toward the exit of her room, the guard quickly stepping aside. She leaves without another word to her sister or to Dominus, the former of whom stares with the shadow of irritation over her eyes; and the latter, with a small, sympathetic smile.

Two guards needlessly flank the princess as she marches down the long halls of the castle, and finds the lobby where the small-framed unicorn sits patiently. Celestia can see the stress in her eyes, to say nothing of the irritated red skin that surrounds them. The guards hold their posts outside of the room as Celestia steps in.

“Ms. Luck…” The matriarch begins with a soft, soothing voice. “...I cannot express how sorry I am. I can’t say I knew her very well, but Senator Peach seemed to be an outstanding mare.”

Penny looks up at the princess like a lost puppy, sniffling as she watches Celestia’s wing wrap around her back. “Thank you for seeing me, P-princess...”

“Of course. If there’s anything I can offer you in these terrible times, do not hesitate to ask.”

The sobbing mare shuffles uncomfortably on the bench, veering her watery vision away from the princesses’s luminescence, embarrassed by her presentation. “...It doesn’t feel real. Like—like it was just a bad dream…” Sympathy presents itself in Celestia’s eyes as she watches intently, and in the small, protective gesture of her shielding wing.

Penny Luck rubs her forehoof over her eyes, squinting hard before staring back up at the alicorn. “Princess Celestia?” She begins in a hushed, quivering voice. Celestia nods and keeps her eyes locked on the mare. “...I t-think there’s something I need to tell you…”

* * *

Pen tip scrawls across the documents on Councilman Sterling’s desk, as the stallion performs his duties with a bored look in his eyes. He sighs, drops the pen from his mouth, and rests his head against his hoof, propped up on the desk. The first thing he looks at, when his eyes finally roll up, is the ceremonial dagger displayed before him. The shimmering silver blade is really something to behold.

Sterling’s peace is disturbed with a knock at the door. He rushes to clean his presentation up, and stammers out a welcoming to whoever is behind the door. “Come in!”

The door opens almost immediately after the councilman’s permission, Celestia’s exotic flowing mane being the first thing to make an appearance. “Evening, Councilman.”

Sterling practically leaps out of his chair. “Ah, Princess Celestia! What a pleasant surprise!” Celestia smirks at the stallion’s enthusiasm. “What can I help you with?”

The matriarch looks down at the comparatively small stallion before her, then down at the dagger below him. “I’ve just had a rather interesting conversation with somepony I think you know, Councilman.” She circles slowly around the room while speaking in a calm, confident voice.

“Oh?” Sterling asks from behind his desk, hooves now placed on top of it. “And who might that be?”

Celestia is facing the shelves away from the stallion, but twists her neck so that he can see her sharp profile. “Penny Luck. Do you know her?”

The councilman’s eye twitches, and he takes a moment to muster a response. “Uh… the senator’s assistant, if I recall correctly?”

“That’s right.” Princess Celestia walks back around so that she’s directly in front of the stallion’s desk. With her frame, her chest is just above the blade’s display case, and Sterling is forced to look up to meet the princesses’s eyes. “Tell me, Councilman. Are there any details about a deal made between you and Senator Peach that you’d like to discuss with me now?”

The stallion’s lips part only halfway, and no answer comes out. His eyes briefly dart downward, at the desk and its contents, then return to the strong gaze of his ruler. “...Princess, I…”

Celestia tilts her head ever so slightly, anticipation building behind her bright magenta eyes. But not for an explanation.

Sterling makes a ridiculous lunge for the glass display case covering his ceremonial dagger, but before he can get a grip on it, Celestia simply crushes the entire box under the weight of her forehoof. The golden ornate boot Celestia has always worn pushes shards of broken glass deep into the stallion’s flesh, his outstretched hoof pinned underneath the weight of Celestia’s foreleg. He scrunches his face tightly in a cringe, and howls out with a cry that’s almost loud enough to drown out the sound of twisting muscle and crunching glass. Celestia pulls the dagger away with her telekinesis, whisking it across Sterling’s muzzle as she does so.

The Councilman recoils in pain immediately, and with the weapon now safely in her grasp, Celestia removes her forehoof and allows the stallion to retract back behind his desk. He falls onto the floor next to his chair, which is pushed away and sent into a spin. Princess Celestia looks down at the crying pony before her with the same cold, expressionless gaze she had walked into the room with. “I guess actions speak louder than words.” She says.

Sterling can only briefly look up at the towering figure before him, rocking himself steadily while curled in the fetal position, and holding his good forehoof against the fresh cut on his muzzle.

“Now keep your whining down and listen closely, you worthless coward.” Even with tears streaming down his face and blood pouring from a wound that she opened up, it was strange for Sterling to hear his princess speak so hatefully. He grimaces and obeys, reducing his bawling to a muffled sequence of groans. “Despite the severity of the crime, I’m going to ignore this little outburst of yours. First, because your naivety is obviously endless if you thought you could overpower me, and second, because I know that you would have wasted my time and hidden the truth, had we done this with civility.”

A particularly loud grunt of pain comes through Sterling’s sealed teeth, as he pulls his glass-laden hoof closer to his chest. Celestia ignores this, and merely continues her verdict. “You’ve disrespected the entire nation, Councilman. You’ll be removed from the council, and blacklisted from the entire city. You won’t be able to mop floors in Canterlot, after this. Furthermore, you’ll be sentenced to ten years in prison; show me then that you’ve realized the depths of your depravity, and I may not give you another ten.” Celestia pauses to turn the blade over in her field of magic, watching the blood draw new trails with the change in gravity. “Oh, and there will be no trial.”

Whether from the pain, or from simply hearing his sentence, Sterling let’s go of himself for a moment and stomps his rear hooves wildly against the carpet, crying out as he does so.

“Take as long as you need to compose yourself.” Princess Celestia finalizes. “They’ll be an escort outside your door, when you’re ready.”

And with that, the princess turns away from the scene, and walks out with the dagger still in her telekinesis. The two guards outside of the room stand rigidly as she walks by, both of them staring onward with quiet discomfort in their eyes, no doubt aided by the blooded weapon and screams of pain coming from the room they guard. One of them hazards a look back into the office, just as the door comes slowly to a close. Councilman Sterling still thrashes about on the floor behind his desk, and a sparkling layer of broken glass lay spread out over the carpet surrounding him.

* * *

Dr. Heartstrings flips through a large binder in a small white room, while the roar of machines and magic rumbles from beyond the wall. Her eyes are only brought up from the binder as a second mare enters the room, one with a violet coat and mane.

“Hey!” Lyra says cheerfully. Twilight smiles and canters over to her colleague.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not too late…”

“Oh no, you’re right on time.” Lyra quickly affirms. “Here:” Twilight stares curiously at the hard hat and safety goggles Lyra holds out in her telekinesis. “It’s just procedure.”

Princess Twilight tilts her head in confusion, but follows the command nonetheless, using her own magic to place the items on her head. Lyra strafes around to the alicorn’s flank, using telekinesis to place a pair of earplugs snugly in the mare’s ears. “You’ll need these, too.”

Lyra equips her own set, and once both mares are geared up, she circles back to the front of Twilight and places a hoof on the door ahead of them. “Okay, you ready?”

Princess Twilight takes a deep breath, then nods enthusiastically. “Ready.”

Dr. Heartstrings pushes through the first set of double doors and the sounds grow louder. She leads her friend Twilight across a metal bridge surrounded by pipes and wires and to a second set of doors. The moment she opens them, the colossal amount of noise finally comes through in all of its bone shaking clarity.

There are massive pipes and spectacular machines whirring and rumbling in a frenzy of steam and magic energy. Ponies pass over the two on the catwalks above, and scurry from one mammoth contraption to another, clipboards and pens in tow.

“THINGS HAVE OBVIOUSLY PICKED UP AROUND HERE.” Lyra shouts over the noise. “ONCE WE WERE ABLE TO DUPLICATE THE DATA, WE COULD EXPERIMENT A LOT MORE WITHOUT WORRYING ABOUT CORRUPTING THE ORIGINAL. OF COURSE, IT DOES FEEL LIKE EACH GENERATION BEYOND THE ORIGINAL CRYSTAL LOSES A LITTLE MORE QUALITY, OR, BECOMES ‘NOISIER’, SO TO SPEAK.”

“I SUPPOSE THAT’S TO BE EXPECTED…” Twilight chimes in with a nod. “SO WHERE IS THE ORIGINAL?”

Lyra pauses her trot through the facility and leans in close to the alicorn. “WHAT?” Twilight begins to ask her question again, but only gets halfway through before Dr. Heartstrings can figure it out. “OH, YEAH THE CRYSTAL’S BACK IN THE VAULT, LAST I HEARD. I GUESS CANTERLOT DOESN’T WANT TO TAKE ANY CHANCES.” Again, Princess Twilight nods in agreement, although this time she doesn’t risk being misheard, and leaves it at the simple gesture.

The two mares circle around a metal vat, a dozen dials and pipes running along its side. Steam, or some kind of fog rolls around the base and under the metal platform Twilight and Lyra walk along, the two stopping as an earth pony mare approaches Dr. Heartstrings and leans in close for a comment. Twilight waits—and not for very long, fortunately—while the others discuss their matter, Lyra nodding and patting the pony on the shoulder before she moves along. Returning to the princess, Lyra shares new information with her when she’s in earshot. “WE’RE ON TRACK TO HAVE 99% OF THE DATA IN JUST A YEAR.”

Twilight’s wings unfurl a small length as she stares at her friend with renewed energy in her eyes. “THAT’S EXCITING!” She stops to look around the large room, then again closes the gap between her and Lyra so that she can hear. “DID WE DECRYPT ANYTHING ABOUT THE EXTINCTION EVENT, OR EVEN ABOUT PONYKIND?” To Twilight’s disappointment, the unicorn simply shakes her head.

“I WOULD HAVE THOUGHT WE’D HAVE FOUND SOMETHING BY NOW, TOO. I’M BEGINNING TO THINK THAT WE DON’T HAVE EVERY PIECE OF THE PUZZLE.” A small explosion of magic suddenly bursts at the other end of the room, drawing both of the mares’ attention. A lurid range of colored sparks dances about the metal surrounding it, but if the reaction of the ponies working near it is anything to go by, this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

Lyra turns back to Twilight and her brow arches with curiosity. “HEY HAVE YOU EATEN YET TODAY?”

* * *

Balloons and streamers litter the exterior of the restaurant, and all manner of fillies and gentlecolts crowd around the booths visible from the windows, and even the street corner outside. They laugh, and gait merrily along the sidewalk, glass bottles and burgers held in their levitation and hooves. ‘Canterlot, USA’ reads the sign above all of the commotion, displayed atop the front entrance with dazzling neon lights.

Leading her excited friend closely behind, Lyra weaves through the crowd of ponies and holds the door open for Twilight, bowing with exaggerated formality. “Your majesty…”

Twilight Sparkle scoffs at the performance, but passes through nonetheless. “Why thank you, madam.”

Once the two are inside, Lyra canters to catch up to Twilight’s side, close enough that the princesses’s wing could tap the other pony, if unfurled. Unsurprisingly, inside the restaurant is much more crowded than out, with all of the booths taken and only one spot at the bar that the two newcomers can situate themselves at. They lean across the white countertop and inspect the lively atmosphere; an upbeat rock tune plays from the glowing jukebox in the corner of the room, and a group of young ponies talk and dance around its light, smiles on all of their muzzles.

From behind the counter, a large earth pony settles a transaction with a couple on the other side of the bar, then smiles and waves after scooping up their bits and placing them in a register. Lyra waits until the stallion is facing her direction, and then waves him over.

“Ah, and I was just getting used to the abuse of power!” He says on his way over with a toothy smile. Lyra shakes her head and returns the smile.

“The place looks fantastic, Crane. I don’t think ‘abuse’ is the appropriate term. Besides, we’re just here for something to eat—you got a couple burgers back there?”

Crane scoffs. “I think we’ll manage.” He turns around to the cooks working in the back, the lot of them rushing to take care of the orders. “Two burgers and fries—” A mare in the back nods and quickly starts writing the order on a notepad, before Crane turns back around to face the pair at the bar. “—coming right up.”

As Crane takes off to speak with his other customers, Twilight turns to Lyra with a puzzled look on her face. “Burgers? Like, cow burgers?”

“They’re made from soybeans,” Lyra says with a light in her eyes that she commonly got when explaining human culture. “apparently it was common as a meat substitute, even after they started synthesizing meats.”

“Hmm.” Twilight quietly responds, the puzzled expression on her face not nearly sated.

The warm lights and lively atmosphere draw both of the mare’s attention back for a moment, leaving them to quietly sit and enjoy it. Before long, Lyra turns to her cohort and nods upward. “Buddy Holly.”

Twilight leans in closer to hear. “Huh?”

“The human who performed this song, I mean.”

“Oh,” Twilight exclaims, face lighting up with renewed excitement. “I take it a lot more music has been decrypted, then.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Responds Lyra. “It’s incredible the parallels you can draw between their music and ours, even when speaking about particular genres and eras of music.”

“I suppose that’s been the theme of this entire project, huh?”

“What’s that?” Lyra asks, leaning back against the bar.

“The more we discover, the more familiar these creatures are. It feels like digging up fiction that we wrote!”

“Hey, truth is stranger than fiction—I think one of them once said…”

The princess blows a small amount of air out of her nostrils, in lieu of a laugh. “Right.”

Crane suddenly makes a reappearance, dropping off two cartons and a basket of fries in front of the ponies. “Ladies; enjoy.” Lyra thanks the stallion for his efforts, and then he falls back into a rigorous routine of getting to all of the customers—the paying ones, perhaps most importantly.

“It looks like he’s really enjoying this…” Twilight quietly comments. Dr. Heartstrings leans back and looks past the ponies to her left, just in time to see Crane welcome a new duo into the establishment.

“Hopefully not too much.” She turns back around so that she can face the meal. “I don’t want him forgetting that I even have a stake in this place.” Lyra uses her magic to open the small white carton, and Twilight follows suit. Inside each container is a burger, with sesame bun and lettuce peeking out from the sides.

Twilight’s violet field of levitation turns the object around a bit, as the alicorn inspects its ingredients. She has no reason to distrust Lyra about the patty, but can’t help but feel a little put off by its texture and general aesthetic. She turns to her side and discovers that Lyra had already bitten into hers, chewing the mimic beef as she watches a rowdy group of youth at the booth behind them.

Shrugging off the ethical conflict, Princess Twilight pulls the burger close to her muzzle and takes a modest bite. She chews the contents slowly, staring down at the spot where she tore a piece of the “meat” off, bits of lettuce and tomato dangling over the sides.

Lyra turns back around and pulls the basket of fries close, lifting some up with her magic as she refers to the pony next to her. “What do you think?”

Twilight looks at her friend, then back to the burger and swallows the contents in her mouth. There’s hesitance in her eyes and in the tone of her response. “It’s… kind of bad…” Despite her hesitance, Twilight’s reply slips out as dry and blunt as a kid might be with their parent, causing the alicorn’s eyes to flash wide with shock. She simply sits and waits for Lyra to finish chewing her fries, and for whatever response her regrettable critique might elicit.

“It’s terrible.” Lyra shakes her head and looks down at her own burger. Confused, Twilight continues to stare with a blank expression as Lyra expands. “I don’t know how the hell everypony here is eating it. It’s probably just the novelty.”

Hearing Lyra’s explanation is obviously enough to comfort the princess, who’s shocked expression gives way to a slowly widening grin. It quivers like Twilight is attempting to prevent it from spreading, until eventually she can’t help but snicker quietly.

“No, yeah, it’s complete garbage.” Lyra’s own smile appears as Twilight gives up on stopping the laughter. She uses a wing to involuntarily shield herself and her juvenile giggling from the restaurant's other patrons. The reaction garners a chuckle from Dr. Heartstrings herself, who pushes her meal away with a hoof and looks around behind the bar. “We don’t put it on the menu, but I can totally just get us some hay burgers.”

Alone, the moment that the two mares share might have stood out; but inside the bustling restaurant, their joy is merely washed away into the sea of laughter and rock ‘n’ roll around them. This vibrancy fills the room and pours out into the open-air, where it echoes distantly along the streets of Canterlot.

The Long Shadow of Canterlot

Author's Note

Chapter Four Recap:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1A_ZpTeq4VOAOxC462Jb0LsUQn5qmPO_HUqGfIm3Df10/edit?usp=sharing

The Long Shadow of Canterlot

The sparkling stone arches of the throne room sprawl out above its single occupant. Massive banners and stained glass windows line the castle walls, filling the room with a brilliant range of color. In the center, aligned neatly with the thrones behind it and the entrance doors in front, is a long, ornate wooden table. And only one pony sits at it.

Princess Celestia chews her salad slowly, briefly pausing to drink from the porcelain teacup to her left. She’s placed squarely at the table’s end, so that she can watch the enormous metal doors as they swing open and introduce a new guest.

Celestia watches as the thin pegasus scampers close to the opposite end of the table, and the doors close behind her. Her mane is dry and messy—as it always was—and with the metal hair stick noticeably absent from the back, the silvery locks have no reason to do anything other than fall lazily against her shoulders.

“Good evening, Moon Dust.”

The pegasus merely nods in response.

“I take it you have some news for me?”

Moon Dust instinctually looks over her shoulder before proceeding. “I have some leads.” She reaches for a pack of cigarettes nestled in the crook of her wings. “The meat looks like it’s being imported. Probably have our friends in Griffonstone to thank for that.” With a cigarette dangling out of her mouth, Moon Dust pauses her explanation to light a match, and subsequently her smoke.

Princess Celestia places her fork down gently, and regards the other mare with a disappointed frown. “Please, Moon Dust. You can at least pretend to obey the law.”

The pegasus looks up after hearing her name, and uses her wing to frantically pull the lit cigarette away from her lips. “Right; sorry.” She says. She then looks awkwardly around her for some place to dispose of it, failing to find one. With a sigh and an act of magic, Celestia helps her subordinate by moving her teacup from one end of the table to the other, dropping it neatly in front of Moon Dust. “Thanks…” The cigarette and match are forced into the cup with a sizzle, thanks to the mare’s efforts.

“Now, what about the guns? Have you traced their origin back yet?” The Princess asks firmly.

“Yes.” Moon Dust replies plainly, without a hint of dramatic effect. “Those are being moved a lot closer to home. The Equestrians are getting their weapons from a crime syndicate in White Tail.”

Celestia momentarily glances off to the side, perhaps to parse the information. “I see. And you have a plan to stop this, I presume?”

Moon Dust shifts uncomfortably once more. “I… can certainly begin to look into it.”

Celestia leans away from the table, stiffening her back and creating a more imposing silhouette. Silence ensues, and the pegasus’s discomfort begins to grow more apparent. She slowly takes a few steps back. “If that’s all…”

“I’m tired of this, Moon Dust.”

The much younger mare pauses her retreat. “Princess…?”

“Tired of liars and criminals and murderers flourishing under my wing. I didn’t hire you for your ability to ‘look into things’, I hired you because you are merciless, I expect you to be—merciless.” The two keep their gazes locked onto one another, Celestia making her order with stone cold delivery. “Is that understood?”

Moon Dust stares unblinking at her matriarch. Her eyes are sharp, and brooding; like a hundred horrors had seared them. “Yes.”

“Good.” The princess replies. “Then you may depart.”

* * *

The cold bite of winter creeps over Equestria, dusting the hills and woods with a thin layer of snow. Light burns in the encroaching darkness, atop a wagon stationed near a small stream and a group of pine trees. Voices can be heard softly from inside, and every now and then a mare’s silhouette passes by the glowing window.

A blue unicorn swivels and poses in front of a large mirror, inspecting her reflection from a myriad of angles. “Hmm.” She muses, staring at the fur-like material lining the collar of her winter jacket.

In the back of the wagon, Starlight Glimmer lounges on a small alcove beneath a fogged window, twisting and turning a wooden puzzle box with her magic. She keeps her focus locked on the curious item, even as the unicorn in front of the mirror turns to get her attention.

“Starlight, do you think I look dignified in a jacket, or is it more of a dazzling?”

“Uh-huh.” The mare dully responds, fidgeting incessantly with the wooden puzzle.

“Starlight!”

The blue unicorn’s hoof stomp and whining is enough to pry Starlight Glimmer’s attention away from the puzzle, only to do a double take on her friend’s appearance. “Hey, is that my jacket?”

She briefly looks down and inspects the garment she wears, before shaking her head and changing the subject. “Nevermind that. Are you even listening to me—I uh—” A wince and another head shake. “I mean, are you okay?”

Starlight can’t help but scoff at her friend’s attempt to correct the narcissism in her reaction. It was charming, in an odd little way. “Fine. Just uh… thinking about your next show, is all.”

The mare in a jacket rolls her eyes and returns to inspecting herself in the mirror. “Oh, please. You’re concerned about the show I’ve done a hundred times now.” She pauses to use her magic and summon a stool and manebrush, planting herself down in front of the mirror and getting to work. “Starlight Glimmer, you’re moping about Twilight Sparkle again.”

“What?” Starlight suddenly responds, with more energy in her voice than at any other point in the night. “I do have my own life, Trixie. Not everything is related to Twilight and her friends!”

Trixie glances to her side with disbelief, before simply returning to her brushing and laying the conversation to rest. For a moment, the mane brushing is the only sound that’s present in the small wagon, as Starlight simply stares at the wooden contraption without actually attempting to solve it.

“Okay, well since you brought it up anyway—”

“Ah-HAH!” Trixie excitedly exclaims.

“—doesn’t it seem like she’s growing kind of distant?” Starlight’s voice trails off, but returns before Trixie can get her two cents in. “And I mean, of course it’s kind of all of them, not just Twilight.” She quickly amends. “But—maybe mostly Twilight…”

Trixie tilts her head and raises her brow dramatically; but at her own reflection, and not toward Starlight. “I wouldn’t know. I kept my distance from her long before you had any reason to.”

“I don’t want their to be distance! That’s what I’m saying!”

“Let me tell you something.” Trixie finally spins on her stool so that she can face her friend. “I’ve known Twilight Sparkle a lot longer than you have, and I promise you—you are not missing anything by not hanging out with her all the time.”

The unicorn in the alcove shakes her head and narrows her eyes. “Didn’t you bring a bear or something into Ponyville when you two first met?”

“That is beside the point! Trixie never brings up what happened at your village like everypony else does, and Trixie would expect the same courtesy from her friend!”

“Trixie’s right, I’m sorry.” The blue unicorn snaps her head back to the mirror as Starlight sighs and sits up, so her legs can dangle over the ledge. “All I meant was… maybe you—well, maybe neither of us were in a great position to judge a pony’s character back then. She’s alright, Trixie. I think you two would honestly get along, if you tried.” There’s no reply from the magician in front of the mirror, but she does ‘hmm’ in acknowledgement. “...And if she also wasn’t so busy all the time…”

Starlight Glimmer leans back into her spot near the window, and allows Trixie to brush her mane in peace. It isn’t until her eyes focus in on the fur-lined coat, that she finds something else to say. “Hey, that’s definitely my jacket!”

Trixie gives a her friend a quick, placid glance. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Starlight scoffs, and leans back into the alcove with the wooden cube and an amused smirk.

* * *

Darkness hangs over the cobblestone streets of Canterlot, but it’s unable to penetrate the warm glow that the shops and street lights project. For snowfall, however, the light only serves to reveal its gentle descent onto the stone below, where it nestles against window sills and crevices in the road.

Several ponies walk this quiet road, two more lively than the rest. Lyra Heartstrings and Twilight Sparkle approach the edge of the former’s restaurant, dark and lifeless as its interior may be. They stop just before the main entrance, where Dr. Heartstrings takes the time to unlock the doors with a silver key. She watches behind them as Twilight heads in, and is quick to relock the door, making sure the sign posted there is still spun to the ‘closed’ side.

“Dark in here…” Princess Twilight needlessly observes. The room is shrouded in darkness, save a glowing red exit sign posted near the back of the restaurant.

“Hold on one second.” Lyra asks of her colleague, just as she heads off to circle around the bar. In this lapse of the unicorn’s company, Twilight turns to watch the enchanting view of the street from behind glass. Snow materializes in the cone of light under the streetlamp, a couple bring their muzzles together lightly as their children trot merrily ahead, and the entire scene is bordered by the restaurant's windows, giving it the appearance of a moving painting.

The lights behind the bar snap on and Twilight turns to see a smiling Dr.Heartstrings behind it. “There!” She exclaims. To Twilight’s surprise, the next thing she grasps in her telekinesis is bottle from behind the bar, levitating it up to the countertop with the label facing outward.

“Wow,” Twilight begins, eyebrows raised. “what’s the occasion?”

Lyra seems content with simply allowing her mischievous smirk to do the answering for her, turning tail and cantering off to the kitchen. “Take a seat, I’ll be right back.”

Twilight Sparkle chuckles quietly to herself, amused by the childlike whimsy her colleague was exhibiting, but willing to play along all the same. She hoists herself up onto a bar stool and watches the kitchen doorway patiently.

As Lyra passes back through it, it’s with two champagne glasses in tow. “Princess Twilight.” She says, smile beaming. Twilight, still confused, widens her grin and shakes her head at the mare’s antics. Dr. Heartstrings begins her return trip to the bar as she finally starts an explanation. “Three months ago—well, technically three months ago tomorrow—we began this wondrous journey into the past, and into the history of our lovely, mysterious, occasionally warmongering bipedal friends!”

Twilight laughs at the long-winded explanation. “Are we to celebrate this benchmark quarterly?”

Lyra approaches the employee side of the bar, and puts the glasses down so that she can start uncorking the champagne. “Well we’ll see how this one goes, and then we can talk about scheduling dates in the future.” The cork comes loose with a satisfying ‘pop’, and a smokey trail of frigid air. The unicorn holds one of the glasses up and pours the golden beverage slowly.

“Do we have our ‘bipedal friends’ to thank for the drink?”

Lyra almost immediately springs into a critical analysis, holding the filled glass up into the light. “Ah, so you’ve noticed. Yes a… Lauret Péri. First made along the shores of ancient France—” Lyra places the glass back down and finishes her thought with a dry tone. “I’m just kidding, I got this at a grocery store down the street.”

The joke earns a giggle from Twilight, who wraps a forehoof around the base of the glass as Lyra sends it her way. “You’ve come terribly unprepared for Canterlot’s first official Human Arts and Culture celebration, haven’t you?”

“Mmm…” Lyra muses while her magic pours the second glass. “Don’t count me out, just yet.” She rushes to place the filled glass down, loosen her winter scarf, then dart off to the jukebox. Her familiarity with the library is almost immediately evident, having a song selected and playing in less than fifteen seconds.

It starts off quiet, a muted guitar picking rhythmically in the background. Lyra leans against the machine as the noise amplifies, bobbing her head in an expressionless ‘cool mare’ act while a second electric guitar plays the chorus with brief, powerful chords. “How’s THAT for prepared?” She shouts over the music, as Twilight laughs gleefully from her seat.

It doesn’t take long for the bottle to lose most of its contents. The bottom becomes nearly visible, and the remaining champagne sits illuminated under the restaurant's lights, a hoof’s reach away from either of the mares. Lyra had switched sides on the counter, sitting on a stool next to her friend, listening and laughing at the stories they delve into. The music continued to play, but was much quieter, and relaxing. A jazzy tune; an echo, played by an ensemble of ghosts.

“So…” Dr. Heartstrings begins, a virtually permanent grin on her muzzle. “...Celestia’s favorite student—what was that like?”

Twilight scoffs. “I don’t know if I was her favorite… She just…” She drifts off, curling her lip back and grazing it with her teeth. “...I don’t know, she knew my parents.”

“Pft—” Interjects Lyra. “Come on, everypony knows what she saw in you. Hell, she probably even knew you were gonna be an element of harmony…” The unicorn’s story trails off as she reaches to finish off the bottle. There’s a meek, barely audible protest from Twilight as Lyra goes to pour more into her glass. This goes ignored. “Oh! Your first trip to Ponyville! Tell me how that went down, like—how did you meet all of your friends?”

The princess pulls her drink close with a forehoof, but doesn’t lift it up for a sip. “Enough about me, it’s… so long and boring.” She says as she rolls her head around a forehoof propped up at the elbow. “Tell me about you! The ponies you met at Starswirl, the spells you had a hoof in writing, the, the—relationship you were last in.”

The last part sends a little shock through Lyra, who’s head recoils back and whose eyes briefly and lazily shut. “Alright. I get it.” Her smile remains as she raises her hooves in mock surrender. “So uh… this, piece I think was composed in the 1930s by Duke… something…”

Twilight Sparkle starts to chuckle and places a hoof on Lyra’s half of the countertop. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to prod.”

“No, yeah; I know.” Her eyes flutter down to the violet hoof still extended out on the bar, then back up to Twilight’s soft, pensive gaze. Lyra’s lips part, and briefly hover apart from one another while she searches for her words. “Uh… how do I…” She turns to look up at the lights, and away from her friend’s eyes; perhaps out of necessity. “...I moved to Ponyville like… ten years ago, now. I was just trying to ‘stretch my wings’, so to speak, and Ponyville seemed like a nice compromise between the country and Canterlot—which, I was sure I couldn’t afford at the time.”

The last of the champagne in her glass empties out, as she leans back and pours it straight into her mouth before revealing anymore. “...Anyway, I was new in town, and I didn’t know anypony. Ended up working at one of those dumb juice stands—you know, like you see on the street corners? Well, she’d… come around, I guess. Order the same thing everyday. One day it finally dawned on me that she didn’t much care for ‘Tropic Twisters’.” Twilight Sparkle smiles and snickers quietly, encouraging Lyra to carry on. “So that goes on for… five years, I think? Things were going pretty good, I thought. It was the longest relationship I had been in.”

“Why didn’t you—” Twilight begins, before clearing her throat and straightening her posture. “—if you don’t mind me asking,”

“Get married?” Lyra guesses, earning a small nod from Princess Twilight. “I don’t know. I guess I was scared; I didn’t know anypony at the time who was married, and... I was getting pretty involved in my schoolwork. Maybe too involved.” The bottle draws Lyra’s attention away for a moment, and she picks it up in her telekinesis so that another round can be poured. This exhausts the bottle’s supply. “Suffice it to say, I felt like there was a growing gap between us, and I was determined to fix that. So one night, I come home from class, I ask her to sit with me in the living room, and I lay it all out. You know, ‘I really like what we have, and I don’t want us to drift apart, let’s have complete honesty from now on…” She punctuates this point of the story with a wave of her hoof. “I tell her: ‘I want to be better. I’m going to make an effort… to be closer with you.’” She says, hefting her glass into the air while staring off at the wall behind Twilight.

“And then she one ups me at our little game by a landslide—and tells me that she’d been seeing somepony else for over six months.” A much needed drink brake incurs, Lyra taking another sip before saying anything else. “She told me so plainly… Like, she was telling me what she wanted from the grocery store.” The unicorn can’t help but chuckle a little, although she does so alone. Twilight’s goofy smile is nothing but an echo. “It’s not all bad, anyway. She left me with experience, and, we can all use a little of that. Oh,” Her magic yanks the glass away as she remembers something else. “and this restaurant, of course.”

A small smile returns to Twilight’s muzzle as she attempts to mirror Dr.Heartstring’s optimism. The inappropriately upbeat tune coming from the jukebox begins to wind down, and before long its medley of brass and rhythmic bass resolves with a single, fading note. And then: silence.

“Lyra, I…” Twilight’s eyes roll up from the countertop, and into the gaze of her colleague. She’s smiling, the mint green unicorn. Her ears are perked and her forehoof lies lazily across the bar in front of her drink. It was like they had never even stopped talking about human music, and Lyra was waiting patiently for Twilight’s critique.

Before Twilight’s thoughts can manifest in any kind of verbalization, the silence disappears, replaced by a new song on the jukebox. It’s a modern sounding guitar, like earlier in the night—but this one is softer, cleaner, and raw; like each note being picked in the chords can be heard individually. They linger with vibrato, and are chained together with the soft metallic sliding noise only a hand could ever make. Lyra tilts her head and closes her eyes, just basking in the melody. Shortly after, the soothing introduction ends, and a slow, sparse percussion joins the lonely guitar for the first verse.

“I love this one…” Lyra says, head swaying gently in rhythm. “This time—the early Twenty-first Century, I mean—this is the period you could probably draw the most parallels with. Doesn’t it sound like something that could have been recorded here in Equestria?”

Twilight’s agape mouth finally seals, and instead of trying to find the right words of sympathy, she simply opts to watching her friend revel in the music, with a smile of her own finally returning.

“When I was… thirteen…” The jukebox sings. Dr. Heartstrings gets lost again, mouthing the lyrics of the song while rocking back and forth on her bar stool. When she opens her eyes again and looks over to Twilight, her sway ceases, and the smile fades. There are tears in Twilight’s eyes, despite her desperate attempt to wipe them away with a forehoof.

“What’s wrong?” Asks Lyra, leaning close for support. The music is deaf to the room’s abrupt mood change, carrying on with its heartfelt lyrics about how ‘you’re the one…’.

Twilight sniffs, and shakes her head as her wings involuntarily start to unfurl. “Nothing, it’s…” Her red eyes dart around the room as she clears her throat and tries to focus on her friend. Once she does, she finds Lyra staring back with her eyes wide open and an air of genuine compassion welcoming the alicorn. “...I really like working with you.”

Lyra Heartstrings can’t help but snicker at the comment, the mare’s professionalism still shining through her ragged, emotional tone. “I really like working with you too, Princess.”

Lyra moves her hoof to gently lay atop Twilight’s, and greets it with a pat that evolves into more of a short caress. Princess Twilight exhales as her wings and shoulders tense a little from the warm contact. Her eyelids flutter over her misty gaze as she freezes in place, but cannot look away from the mare sitting across from her. She bobs her head forward an inch, before retracting it and taking another deep breath. The next time her head bobs forward, it doesn’t stop.

The kiss surprises Dr.Heartstrings for a moment; but only for a moment. Soon her eyes join Twilight’s in closing, and the two twist their heads a little to elongate the contact. When they do finally pull away, Twilight has a gaze like she’s hesitant, or that she’s waiting for a response. The only one Lyra offers her is a quivering smile, and a half suppressed laugh.

The kiss resumes, their muzzles meeting each other halfway this time. The hoof holding tightens with the intensity of the kiss, and Lyra’s remaining forehoof hovers up to sweep back through Twilight’s mane on the side.

They kiss alone at the edge of the light, in a little patch of warmth amidst the snowy streets. All the while, the music plays.

* * *

Night surrenders to the dawn, and the black void over Canterlot is replaced by a brilliant gradient of light.

Twilight’s eyes open slowly. Despite the weather, she finds herself surrounded by warmth; warmth from the blanket, and from the body nestled closely against her back. She stretches out her hind legs and buries her head deeper into the pillow, rousing the mare next to her.

“Your wings come out in your sleep.” Lyra says with a smile and a gentle caress of the princesses’s shoulder. Her eyes remained closed as she brings her muzzle in for a kiss against the other mare’s back.

“I’m sorry.” Twilight admits meekly. “Never really did get totally comfortable with them.”

Lyra chortles briefly, reveling in the shared body heat the two of them emit under the blanket. Both are content with simply lying there for a spell, until Dr. Heartstrings lifts herself up out of the covers and looks down at Twilight with a sleepy grin. “I’m gonna go make us breakfast.”

Twilight acknowledges the idea with a tired nod herself, and surely has plans to join the other pony as she slides to the edge of the bed. But not before she can roll onto her back and pull the blanket close to her chin, staring up at the apartment ceiling with heavy eyelids half-closed.

By the time the princess finally emerges in the kitchen, Lyra is already standing over the stove with smoke curling off of her skillet. She turns to happily greet the alicorn, who, still not quite as awake, leans against the open doorway to watch. “Good morning! There’s uh, orange juice on the table, glasses above the sink there.” She spins around briefly to poke at the food she’s preparing. “I’m making crêpes.”

The sentence obviously doesn’t quite land with Twilight, who narrows her eyes and stares idly at the white tile floor. “You’re what?”

Lyra turns back around and points her spatula at a plate of them already cooked. “Papercakes. Crêpes is what the humans originally named them.”

Twilight’s look of confusion turns into one of amusement, and she huffs lazily; more manageable than a laugh, in her current state. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Course I didn’t.” Lyra responds plainly, returning to the stove top. “I wanted to.”

Princess Twilight makes a smile that Lyra can’t see, then moseys over to the counter to retrieve a glass. While doing so, she notices the assortment of dishes and ingredients that had been assembled on the counter next to the ‘crêpes’. There’s a dirty mixing bowl with a reservoir of batter still resting at the bottom, next to a bag of flour and smaller bowl caked with some kind of liquid mix of ingredients. A small dish of raspberry jam can be seen as well, near the edge of the counter.

Twilight fills her glass with juice, then sets it down on the table. She then makes a trip to the counter where Lyra stands, through pure conviction more than the energy to do so. Lyra’s head twists around for a double take as Twilight’s magic begins to envelope one of the dirty bowls.

“Ah, ah!” The unicorn snaps. “No guest of mine will be doing any of those; especially not hungover ones.”

Twilight scoffs, holding the dish in her magic’s grasp. “I’m not hungover!”

No response is uttered, but Lyra makes sure Twilight can see her smirk and raised brow. The princess rolls her eyes. “I have… a little bit of a headache.” Lyra smugly returns to the sizzling pan as Twilight places the bowl back down.

“You talk with Celestia about migrating all this new data to our libraries? We’re actually sequencing the DNA faster than we can properly catalog it, now.”

Princess Twilight sighs as she returns to her seat at the small kitchen table. “Yeah, she insists our hooves are tied. I’m sure she’s right, too, after what happened with the council…”

The unicorn at the stove turns around with a perplexed look. “What happened—” Her eyes look up at the ceiling light as she searches her memory, and Twilight starts to explain. Starts to, anyway; Lyra obviously reaches some kind of conclusion as she nods her head and returns to the counter. “Ooooh, that’s right. That whole thing.” She puts the finishing touches on a plate of ‘crêpes’ and then lifts them into her levitation. “What a nightmare. And you’re actually fairly close with the High Council, aren’t you?”

“No, I—” Twilight quickly responds, interrupted as Lyra places the full plate of food before her. They’re cooked to a golden perfection, and folded shut with a great helping of jam oozing from their centers. “...Thank you, they look delicious.”

With pep Twilight hadn’t had in at least twelve hours—and likely many more than that—Lyra smiles proudly at the opposite end of the table. “You’re welcome, Princess.”

The alicorn looks up as her friend returns to the counter, assumingly to finish the preparations. Twilight’s gaze searches for something intangible in the gap between the two of them, before falling off completely and watching the breakfast table tiredly.

“You were talking about the council?”

Twilight’s eyes whisk back up. “Oh—yeah, I was just saying that I don’t really know any of them that well. Except for Dominus—and, Celestia and Luna of course.”

Lyra dumps the last papercake out of the skillet and onto a plate, before turning around and bringing it to the table. “I’m kind of surprised. I figured Celestia couldn’t wait to assimilate you after your alicornation.”

There’s a pause in Twilight’s sawing of her food with fork and knife, and she looks up at the mare still hustling around the kitchen with a quizzical expression. “‘Assimilate’?” Lyra shrugs, and makes another trip to the counter to collect the remaining ingredients.

“You know, I just mean like—induct you into her secret administration, or whatever.” She says while placing down the jam and butter. Twilight snickers, and suspends the glass of orange juice before her so that she can respond before taking a sip.

“...Surely, there’s something other than work that we can discuss?”

Dr. Heartstrings purses her lips as Twilight takes her chance to drink. “Yeah—sure, I mean—we could talk about how incredible you were with your tongue last night?”

The comment immediately elicits a reaction in Twilight, who flings her forehoof up to her muzzle to muffle the sounds of her choking on the juice. She takes a moment to compose herself while Lyra leans against the back of her chair with a wicked smirk.

“...I’d… better get back to the castle soon…” Twilight admits, already pushing herself away from the table. Lyra laughs, and swoops in to change her mind.

“No I’m sorry; you stay here and finish your breakfast, I’ll hop in the shower.” She says. It doesn’t take long for her to stay true to her word either, Twilight reaching out as she heads for the living room.

“You didn’t even eat any yourself!” She cries out, watching Lyra’s unyielding retreat.

“The’ll still be there when I’m done!” Her tail disappears behind the wall before she’s even finished responding.

Twilight, hopeless to stop her and alone in the room now, sighs and turns back around. She looks down at the well-prepared meal, and the single bite taken out of it; and then she stares outward, toward the small window nestled above the sink and between the cupboards. Musings hold her attention here, where the red brick of the neighboring building can be seen, and the light filters through in a dusty little square of light.

She smiles. But only briefly, and with eyes that sink low as it dissolves.

* * *

There’s a knock on the office door. Dominus Temporis, leaning back on his chair behind his desk, looks up from his book and toward the sound. “Come in.” He announces.

The handle clicks and the door swings open, revealing a duo of mares on the other side.

“Ah,” Dominus moves his hind claws back and allows the chair to fall flat onto its feet. “Sol et luna! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Princess Celestia approaches first, standing in the center of the dragon’s room. There’s an ornate wooden desk separating the ponies and Dominus, the dragon himself confined to a small half-hexagonal extension of the room, where tall, frosted windows surround him. “Good morning, Dominus. I suppose you’ve known this is coming?”

The amber scaled creature places his book down gently, and smiles at the princess. “Your council inspection. Yes, I’m aware.”

Celestia turns her head and looks at the bookshelves lining the left wall. “I’m sorry, Dominus. I know you’re a trusted ally of Canterlot. I just need to be objective.”

“Not that we could catch him like this if he wasn’t…” Princess Luna quips from behind her elder sister. The comment elicits another smile from Dominus.

“I assure you, I’ve abstained from interfering with fate, and I’d be happy to comply with whatever rules you two deem necessary.” The chair drags noisily across the hardwood floor as the dragon pushes himself away from the desk.

Celestia makes a small but genuine smile. “I know, Dominus.”

The elder alicorn breaks for the left side of the office as her sister takes the right, and Dominus Temporis leans against the wooden support on the corner of the alcove. Beyond the cold glass behind him, there’s a stone tower that protrudes into the nearly colorless sky, and a golden flag that blows gently in the wind.

“So how goes the hunt?” Dominus asks with his arms crossed.

Celestia looks over her shoulder and away from a book that she had pulled from the shelves. “...Everypony’s been clean so far, but—”

“Sorry—” Dominus interrupts, shaking his head. “I meant the other hunt. The radicals.”

“Mmm, our so called ‘Equestrians’?” Luna concludes from her end of the room. “Celestia here has already shut down a good portion of their operations. Three bases they used to smuggle in illicit merchandise, all shuttered in less than a week.”

Dominus’s scaly fingers unfurl as he exposes his palm and looks at the princess in question. “Success worth celebrating, it sounds like.”

“Hardly.” She responds, much to Luna’s annoyance.

“You saved lives, sister. If left untouched who knows what kind of damage could have been caused by those warehouses. You should be proud.”

Princess Celestia doesn’t respond; in fact, her head had never turned away from the bookshelf as Luna had spoken. She cranes her neck down at a cabinet with a lamp atop, and inspects the small lock on the outside. “Do you have a key for this?” She asks Dominus, leaving Luna to roll her eyes and turn back around.

“Yes, I—” The dragon stammers as he navigates back to his desk and pulls open a drawer, its contents rattling noisily as he does so. “—think…” His claw hovers over the drawer, where all manner of keys, pens, folded up notes, pocket watches, and at least one sextant lay before him. “Try… this one:” He pulls out a small golden key, and passes it into Celestia’s field of levitation.

“Thank you.” The princess says. She leans down to the cabinet and pushes in the key, unlocking it after some brief twisting and fidgeting. “We’ve made progress against the radicals, true, but the fact remains that they shouldn’t have ever been a problem in the first place.” There’s a strange assortment of items in the cabinet, mostly seem to be magical in nature. A few crystals, vials filled with glowing fluids.

Luna looks up from the book she’d been flipping through, and watches her sister curiously. “Nopony’s perfect, you know. That doesn’t mean anypony must be at fault, either.”

This gives pause to Princess Celestia, who stares at her younger coruler with a contemplative gaze. As the two remain there, locked in their wordless debate, Celestia’s eyes begin to trail down away from the alicorn’s face, and toward the object held in her levitation. The title of the book is left visible, but barely legible at the angle Luna holds it. “What is… that?”

Princess Luna holds the book up so the other occupants of the room can see the tile, as she cocks her head around to see it herself. “‘Dracula?’ I’m getting the sense that a human wrote it.”

“That’s right.” Dominus chimes in, happy to rejoin the conversation. “Fantastic tales of the dead returning to life, and men creating life themselves; these were literary concepts beginning to really bloom during the late 19th century. The author, Abraham Stoker, would die poor and in failing health. But his writing, and its imaginative use of myth and legend persists even today...”

Celestia quietly paces over to the end of the room Luna stands at, eyes fixated on the bookshelf.

“They’re all man-written.” Dominus says. “Those ones over there. Started a bit of a collection.”

One of the books comes sliding out of its spot on the shelf with the help of Celestia’s magic; a plain, tan book with thick brown binding and its title printed by its lonesome on the cover. ‘Helmet for My Pillow’, it reads. ‘Robert Leckie’. The princess opens the cover gently, and begins to flip through some of the pages.

“That was written by a soldier during the second World War. It’s a personal telling of his experiences.” Celestia pauses her reading upon hearing Dominus’s comment, and looks up at him with eyes sharp and attentive. “I keep it up there for… historical context, I suppose. I realize an interest in history may seem ironic for a creature like me.”

Princess Celestia looks again at the row of foreign literature, then closes the one held in her magic shut, and resumes their discussion. “Again I apologize for the intrusion, Dominus.” An apology met only with the dragon’s shrug and dismissive frown. “This will all be over soon enough, but in the meantime—expect more of it.”

“I understand completely.” He responds with a small smile.

Celestia briefly matches his optimism, then allows the smile to fade as she turns around and nods at Princess Luna. The younger alicorn puts back the copy of ‘Dracula’, waving briefly to Dominus before turning around and following in her sister’s hoofsteps. Celestia still holds onto the tan book as she leaves.

The two of them walk down the castle hall in silence; at least until Princess Celestia speaks up. “What you said back there…” She begins, without actually turning around. “...about nopony being perfect…”

“Yes?” Luna asks curiously.

The next step Celestia takes brings her trot to a halt. She turns so that she can see her coruler, and waits for her to gait to cease as well. “I need to know that you’re willing to ignore that sentiment.”

Luna, now more confused than before, twists her expression tighter and cocks her head. “How’s that?”

“This…” Celestia motions around her with a wing. “This all didn’t come to be because I settled. It’s the product of centuries of work and willpower. And I won’t watch it crumble before me.”

“Celestia, nopony exp—”

“This isn’t about anypony’s expectations, this is about what I know must be done. And you need to be with me on that.”

Luna’s mouth hangs agape as she studies her sister’s cold, stern look. A scolding that Luna couldn’t help but feel unwarranted. “Okay.” She says with a sliver of Celestia’s conviction.

“...I intend to lead the first perfect nation. This has been the goal since the castle was erected. It’s why my citizens have purpose. It’s why there’s singing in the streets. And it’s certainly why nopony in Equestria has ever needed to write something like—this.” Luna’s eyes flutter in shock as Celestia pushes the book against her chest. Her magic instinctively takes hold of it as Celestia’s releases, even though her attention is planted firmly on the ivory alicorn herself. The magnificent, flowing mane turns away with her head; and without another word, her trot resumes.

Celestia finishes the rest of the walk down the hall by herself, and Luna can do little but stand frozen and watch her.

* * *

The grounds outside of Twilight’s castle are littered with snow; although, it’d seem like the last of it had fallen. A pegasus wearing a black aviator jacket trots through it diligently, right up to the golden double door at the base of the castle’s crystal trunk. She knocks three times, then stands back and waits. There’s a look of discomfort on her face.

Rainbow Dash doesn’t need to wait long before the doors swing open, and reveal The Princess of Friendship to her. “Hi, Rainbow!” She beams, bangs bouncing a little in her excitement.

Dash forces a smile and nods back. “Hey Twi’.”

“It feels like it’s been ages since we’ve seen each other! Please, come in—”

“No, that’s alright, I really can’t stay long, I just… I uh…” Twilight settles against the edge of the door and waits patiently for an explanation, Dash scratching the back of her mane while she searches for it. “...You’re not gonna like hearing this, but… Canterlot’s told us to bulk up the security around your property.”

“Oh?” Twilight asks curiously.

“Yeah, it’s just with… you know, all the stuff that’s been going on lately. I figured... I should at least be the one to tell you.” She finishes with a grimace and her head bowed down a bit.

Twilight doesn’t have much of a reaction at all, save for looking out toward the horizon and quietly saying “...Huh…” This confuses Dash, who shakes her head and raises a brow.

“You’re not… mad? I thought you hated the guard hanging around.”

Twilight shrugs it off like she’d lost a single bit in a bet. “If Canterlot thinks it’s necessary. I mean, I know they’re just kicking the tires on things until all of this ‘Equestrians’ nonsense blows over.”

Rainbow Dash winces. “‘Kicking the…’?”

Twilight’s eyes squeeze shut, and she playfully scolds herself with a hoof raised to the forehead. “Right, sorry—human expression. I just mean that they’re being thorough.”

“Mm.” Says Dash, eyeing the gleaming Twilight with suspicion. “...Did a new library open in Ponyville or something?”

Twilight burst into a fit of giggles. “‘A new library’, that would be just like me, wouldn’t it? You’re pretty funny, Rainbow!”

Dash’s own smile is crooked, and forced. “Right… It just seems—”

“I’ve met somepony.” Twilight blurts out. This almost immediately triggers her eyes to clench shut and a grimace to form on her muzzle.

“...’Somepony’? Somepony like a coltfriend ‘somepony’?”

“Yes. But—er, no, a marefriend, she’s a mare—but in a capacity that is not too dissimilar to a—” Twilight pauses, and stares at her friend’s blank expression through winced eyes. “Could you not tell anypony about this, actually?”

“You brought it up!” Dash observes.

“I know, but it just kinda—stumbled out, and, I’m not sure that I’m ready for… you know, and I haven’t really talked to her about…” Princess Twilight trails off as she stares at the distant scenery, and Dash’s mouth slowly grows further open.

“Wait, is it the doctor?”

Twilight fixes her gaze on the pegasus at her doorstep. “Huh?”

“The one you work with—’Heartseen’?”

“Lyra Heartstrings, yes. But you have to keep this to yourself; just for now, okay?”

Dash snickers and rolls her head, apparently delighted to learn this bit of information. “Sure thing, Twi’.” The princess nods, and the two appear to have concluded the subject. That is, before Rainbow Dash eyes her friend curiously, and reopens their dialect. “So uh… is she—you know, your first?”

Twilight’s eyes narrow. “What? Oh, no—of course not. My fourth, actually.”

Now is Dash’s time to act surprised. “‘Fourth’? You had three marefriends before this? How come we’ve never talked about it?”

“One marefriend, the other two were stallions.” She quickly corrects. “And I don’t know, it never felt… relevant, I guess. To be honest, I’m not sure why we’re talking about it now.”

Twilight shifts awkwardly away from the door she’d been leaning on, and Dash, frozen in place and with her lips barely parted, stares onward as sense comes flickering back into her eyes. “Right. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I even… said that.”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come inside?” Twilight asks sympathetically, moving aside so that she can show the castle’s entrance hall. The pegasus looks at it briefly, before shaking her head away from the invitation.

“No, I really have to get going.” Slowly she begins backpedaling away from the doors. “Sorry, I lost track of time.”

She starts moving quicker now, pivoting around and jogging down the steps as Twilight takes a step toward her. “Rainbow Dash?” She calls out, voice twisted between confusion and sympathy.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” Dash responds, not waiting for another word before turning her head back around, and taking off to the skies. This leaves Princess Twilight standing in her doorway alone, still confused, and watching her friend slowly shrink into the distance.

* * *

Snow drifts lazily from the gray skies outside the shop’s window, among the trees and in a sheet atop the grass. The shop itself is rather small, and worn-down; a faded sign with a fish being yanked from a stream is fixed to the roof. And in this small shop, just past the warped glass of the window, sits a pony with her back to the wilderness. The coat around her back and wings is mottled, and misshapen, with feathers splayed out around the exposed pink flesh. Her mane is dry, and tangled—even if it’s up in a bun. There’s a single hair stick that holds it in place, long and metal. It drives up through her locks at an angle, and protrudes out the other end with a fine, razor-edged tip.

“Alright. See you ‘round, JJ.”

Moon Dust watches the two at the counter closely, both of them diamond dogs. The clerk collects the bits the customer had dropped on the counter, and the customer takes his newly acquired propane lantern with him as he says goodbye, turning away from the counter shortly after. Moon Dust’s stare is unyielding as she watches the diamond dog pass by, forcing him to frown and look away.

There’s a little bell on the shop door that rings as the creature passes through it. The remaining diamond dog next turns his attention to the mare sitting patiently in his shop, leaning against the counter and motioning to her with a nod. “What can I do ya’ for?”

Moon Dust quietly stands up, and approaches the counter in no hurry. The floorboards creak underhoof as she does. “I need some live bait.”

“Fins, or?”

“Crawlers.” Moon Dust is quick to specify. “Preferably around three inches.”

The clerk nods his head and moves to the back, where a long cooler rests. “Fifty? Hundred?”

“Fifty will do.”

Again, the diamond dog nods and obliges, opening up one of the refrigerator hatches and reaching in. He pulls out a round, white container, sliding it out onto the counter before taking his position behind the register. “That all?” Moon Dust doesn’t respond, but she does nod her head; more than enough, for the diamond dog. “Five bits.”

The pegasus drops a small pouch she had been carrying in the crook of her wing, retrieving the money and placing it out on the counter.

“Smart thinking, going out there now.” The clerk says.

Moon Dust narrows her eyes. “How’s that?”

“Win’er fishin’. Out there now while all those fair-weather pansies are takin’t easy.”

The register rings as the store owner deposits the bits, and Moon Dust focuses her attention on a rack of postcards. “Well… cold never bothered me much.” She grumbles. The metal rack whines as she turns it, revealing a vibrant depiction of the woods in shades of red and orange, boat out in a lake surrounding by the falling leaves. ‘Greetings from White Tail!’ It cheerfully exclaims.

“Hey, you got a map of this place?”

The man closes the register and looks up. “Of the woods? Sure—” He reaches down below the counter at the same time Moon Dust instinctively places a hoof on top of it, closing the distance between the two of them. “What’re ya looking for?” He asks, flattening a large map out before the mare. Moon Dust keenly inspects it.

“Well, it’s a bit unusual… but I’m only in the area for a couple of days, and I thought I’d might as well swing by and see my cousin while I’m here…”

“What’s ‘er name?” The store owner asks.

“Magnolia, Sparks.” Hearing the name causes the diamond dog to lose focus on the map, staring up at Moon Dust as she continues. “Yeah I don’t live close, so we don’t get to see one another much. But I thought I’d come around and surprise her.”

“‘Magnolia’, you said?” The diamond dog turns his head a little as he asks, ear facing Moon Dust.

“That’s right.”

The clerk heaves his breath and raps against the countertop with his knuckles. “Well… Magnolia ain’t ‘round Lake Hope, she’s more up on the outskirts, I think.” He slides his paws off of the counter and begins slowly retreating to the back. “Lemme get ‘er number for you real quick, and then you two can sort it out.”

Moon Dust nods, and returns her own forehoof to the floor. “Alright.”

The diamond dog flashes a smile and then turns around, walking down a small corridor and entering the room at the back.

Alone now in the shop, the mare backs away from the counter, and stands in the center of the room so that she can look around. There’s a bass hanging up on the wall over the door, and a strand of lights running over it and connecting to the next wall. This end of the shop only has the bench Moon Dust sat on earlier, and a frosted window that the wind howls behind. The walls connected to this one then, and parallel from one another, are lined with shelves and racks. Hooks, fishing line, sinkers, reels, lures; and propped up on the end nearest the counter, is a small assortments of rods. While true that most of the items in the shop are geared for anglers, there’s also a scattering of general outdoors equipment, like boots and lanterns.

The floor creaks as Moon Dust slinks over to the end of the hall, and leans against the window on the outside corner. She steadies her breath, and waits—concentrating her focus on the opposite corner, and the small section of hallway she can see from there.

There’s a dull thud in the back room, and Moon Dust hugs the wall closer. Her wing tip shoots up and wraps around the hair stick, readying it to be loosened at a moment’s notice. She steadies her breathing and waits… for the diamond dog to reemerge, for another sound; for anything.

But nothing comes. Moon Dust slides along the wall and peeks around the corner, eyes fixated on the door at the end of the hall. There are no longer any audible sounds—save the muffled howl of the wind.

With her wing still firmly wrapped around the metal hair stick, Moon Dust grits her teeth and begins her trot, moving cautiously to the door. She stops just before it. There’s an ‘employees only’ sign posted on the top section, and a brass, rounded door knob to squash any lingering suspicions Moon Dust might have about the place being inhabited with many ponies. She watches the light under the door, and turns around so that she can dig her forehooves into the floor leading away from the doorway.

The door slams open on the first attempt, Moon Dust bucking into it with her hind legs. She spins around as quickly as possible—only to face an empty room. There’s a phone left dangling over the edge of a wooden desk, the dial tone still discernible when the pegasus gets close enough to hear it. Documents and folders lay sprawled out on the desk, some of their contents having dropped to the floor. And at the end of the small room opposite of Moon Dust, just above the desk, is an open window. Its curtains blow gently in the winter wind.

The pegasus moves to the window and sticks her head just far enough out to see the ground below. There’s an irregular pattern in the snow, like something or some creature had fallen there, and a trail of paw prints leading away from the shop and into the woods.

Moon Dust watches the trail with narrowed eyes. “Counting on you being as dumb as you look…” She murmurs to the wind.

* * *

The diamond dog’s breathing is ragged and uncontrolled. He plunges through branches and snow as he scampers forward, looking over his shoulder constantly for any followers. The surrounding bramble scratches at his skin and occasionally drags him down, all the more reason for his increasing panic.

Finally, he bursts into a clearing with irregular breath and a heaving chest. He pauses his run for the first time since he’d jumped into the woods, and stares at the structure in the center of the clearing. It’s a cabin; modest in size and with windows dark.

The clerk rushes up to the building’s porch, throwing the screen door open before taking another look at the forest behind him. He pounds on the door with his fist between nervous glances behind him, waiting desperately for somepony to answer.

This does not happen. The diamond dog beats in desperation against the door a final time, and tries hopelessly to push on the locked door handle. His paws brace himself against the door as he bows his head against the wood, and squints his eyes close with a grimace. “Come on… please, please please pl—”

A rustling in the woods behind him interrupt his whispered begging. He spins around and watches the trees, painted in splotches of white and brown. Every now and then the frigid wind lifts up their dried branches, crackling and dropping a small batch of snow.

The clerk’s eyes are wide while he searches the horizon. He takes slow and steady steps edge of the porch, then keeps his gaze trained on the woods as he shuffles down the stairs. Once out in the snow, he pauses for a brief moment to continue watching in fear, then he bolts for the woods around the back of the cabin, nearly tripping as he does so.

With the diamond dog gone, the clearing returns to a scene of peace and silence. The trees create a kind of natural border for the cabin’s yard, walling it off at around half an acre away. There’s bramble too, spreading low beneath the tree branches and encroaching a little further inward toward the cabin. Some of that bramble begins to shake around as a creature emerges, slinking low and eyes on the house. Moon Dust checks her surroundings briefly, then relaxes her stance and begins to close the distance between her and the cabin.

As she approaches the porch stairs, she pays close attention to the snow, where there is only one trail left by the fleeing diamond dog. At the top of the stairs, she takes the chance to try the door handle with a hoof, though doesn’t act surprised when it won’t give. She looks along the front wall of the house and out over the edge of the porch, inspecting for any kind of entrance.

The inside of the cabin is silent, save for the occasional clattering of the screen door caught in the wind. And for the sound of a brick crashing into the bedroom, as it flies through a window. Moon Dust clears out the remaining glass shards with a thick branch, then hurdles through the impromptu entrance. She drops into the room and is immediately thrown off by something.

The house is lifeless. There’s a thin layer of dust on all of the furniture, and not the sound of hoofsteps nor even of a ticking clock can be heard. The pegasus travels through the bedroom and out into the hall, meeting a similar deathly stillness out there. The one sound that can be heard in the house—that of the screen door clattering against its frame—slowly draws Moon Dust out of the hall, through the kitchen and into the living room.

She looks around the room, pausing at the strange gap on the floor where there’s no furniture. An unusually large gap, for such a small room; especially considering the lack of a couch. Moon Dust folds her legs and lies down in the gap, inspecting the markings on the hardwood floor. Sure enough, there are four imprints down there; corners where the legs of something sat for a very long time.

Another detail draws the pegasus’s curiosity as well: light scratches. Not just in the area, but all over the living room floorboards as well. Moon Dust scowls and pushes herself back up to her hooves. “Magnolia is a griffon…” She says, to her audience of an old reclining chair, and an empty fireplace. “...or at least was...” The mare spins around and heads back into the kitchen.

A view of the backyard from over the sink briefly holds her attention, but it isn’t long before Moon Dust is walking back toward the bedroom she entered through, trying to inspect the house through a new set of eyes. Before passing to the other side of the doorway, she looks up—noticing something interesting on the second floor. She takes the flight of stairs on her flank, and stands at the top of them with her head tilted almost all the way back.

There on the ceiling, painted white and without any sort of string or handle, is a hatch. Moon Dust leans against the banister to get a better look, almost unsure if it even is a hatch, and not some kind of strange ceiling patch or something.

She closes her eyes and sighs. When she opens them again, she makes sure to steady herself in the center of the walkway, directly underneath the hatch. Her wings unfurl and her hooves dig into the carpet, the mare staring at the ceiling entrance with an oddly intense look. With heavy breath and a flap of her fleshy wings, Moon Dust leaps into the air, and takes flight.

The pegasus almost immediately cries out, losing her focus and dipping back down toward the floor. Her flight is crooked, the weight of the mare sagging to the left as her wings beat furiously to try and ascend higher. But it’s not enough, and she comes crashing back down into the carpet with a howl of agony.

Moon Dust stays there, down on the carpet while she regains her strength and steadies her breath. Her nearly featherless wings stay splayed out for a moment, jittering uncontrollably as the slowly collapse back inward. Even after they do, Moon Dust remains with her muzzle down on the floor, looking around the hall with an arched brow and her ragged breath suppressed in the carpet.

Soon after, the sound of a large piece of furniture being pushed down the hall disturbs the ghostly silence. Moon Dust strains against it, pushing it from the side with her shoulder, and watching the dark trail it leaves behind in the carpet. Its contents shake and rattle along the cabinet's short journey, a glass goblet rolling off and hitting the floor with a dull thud as it finally ends.

Moon Dust effortlessly scales up the hallway banister, then the cabinet next. A cloud of dust bursts into the air as the pegasus punches up into the attic, sending the hatch off into a pile of boxes. She grabs the ledge with her forehooves, and heaves herself up into the musty room with a groan. Once inside, Moon Dust takes a look around the cramped area.

There is only one source of light, a small window at the end of the attic. It shines over a collection of old and misshapen cardboard boxes, Moon Dust discovering a collection of vinyl records when she opens the lid of one. Her hind legs dangle out into the hall while she reaches under the surrounding support beams, feeling for anything out of place. Next she pulls her entire body up into the cramped space, and reaches up for the ceiling beams, the wooden supports running at a slant and parallel with one another.

A discovery up there ends her search. She pulls down what her forehooves had encountered when groping around; a notebook. And a rather thick one, at that. Moon Dust flips through the pages, turning herself to the side so that she can catch as much of the light as possible.

19073, Edith: January 2nd.
Round ball paper cartridges, 6 boxes.
24 bits: paid.

The writing is all neatly penned, organized by date and alphabetically after that. Moon Dust flips through more of the book.

20104, Arnold: February 16th.
Tobacco cigarettes (gold), 2 boxes.
10 bits: paid.

There are pages and pages of these financial records, seemingly spanning years. Moon Dust decides to turn things back, scanning some of the first pages to get a better sense of the timeframe.

15352, Cave: March 9th.
Round ball paper cartridges, 1 box.
4 bits: paid.

The pegasus finally looks up from the book, gazing into space while she considers the newfound information. She looks toward the small window with fogged glass, and the small bits of snow that fall silently against it.

The aged binding audibly crinkles as Moon Dust closes the ledger. It had obviously been sitting up there for quite some time; but today, it would leave in the hooves of a new owner.

Maelstrom

Author's Note

Chapter Five Recap:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jp-35byRsBHqf8ej2DAVnCZ9wFXaeZFUOwKbTLzLdLU/edit?usp=sharing

Maelstrom

A stallion sits alone in a small room with one window. Snow is piled along the sides and bottom, and more still falls steadily from the skies. Laughter can be heard coming from down below, earth ponies and unicorns walking the streets, while pegasi glide through the snowfall.

A telephone rings, disturbing the room’s peace. The stallion sitting alone on the end of a bed slides the receiver across the bench next to him, and picks up the hoofset following the second ring.

“Hello?” He asks.

The curtains around the window are a muted green, hanging lifelessly to the side so that natural light can flood the room. There’s a desk just to the right of the window, empty save for a small potted plant in its corner.

“Who is this?”

The floral wallpaper in the room is faded, and peeling a bit in some concentrated areas.

“I’m not doing anything without the boss’s orders. Talk to him, or—”

The room grows silent again. Once more, the voices from outside can be heard seeping through the walls. They’re happy, frivolous, distant sounding.

“...Yes.” The stallion leans a little further forward on the bed, inching the receiver with him as he does so. “Yes.”

Another long lapse in his responses. He sits in the middle of this small room with his head hung low, and his hind hooves pressed against the hardwood floor. His gaze hangs there too—against the dark floor—until something the other creature on the phone says causes him to lift it up to the window. There it tightens, and his lips part well before the words come out.

“...Yes, I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

The stallion briefly twirls his head around to check the sole door leading in.

“Understood.”

He lingers a little longer there on the phone, then pulls the hoofset away from his head, and places it gently back into the receiver. His hoof rests atop it for a moment, eyes wandering back to the window where the noise is coming from. A mare, it sounds like. Perhaps out with her friends.

* * *

A steady stream of ponies filter in and out of Canterlot USA, the brightly lit restaurant at the street corner. A group of friends pile through the main entrance and into the interior’s warmth, laughing gleefully and loosening their winter garments as a small bell rings. There are many more smiles like theirs inside, next to the windows pushed into the booths, and at the bar, like on the face of the orange-coated mare as she leans in for a quick peck on her coltfriend’s cheek.

“Order up! Twenty-six, extra lettuce!” Announces a tan earth pony from behind the bar, tray held out in his forehooves. Lyra Heartstrings is around too, standing on the customer side of the bar and watching the commotion around her. She leans across the counter top to speak with one of the employees, just as the bell at the front door rings again.

“Hey, Candy?” She says with a hoof wave, getting the attention of an ivory pony in the back.

“Yeah?” She responds.

“Are we good on ice-cream?”

“I just saw… Chestnut, I think? But somepony had just refilled it.”

Lyra nods and retracts back across the bar. “Okay, good, thank you.”

By the time Dr.Heartstrings turns around, the restaurant’s newest occupant is already standing before her. “Oh, hey Princess!” She beams at Twilight.

Twilight Sparkle smiles awkwardly, and looks around the room while speaking to the other mare. “Hey, Lyra. Do you think we can… talk somewhere private?”

Lyra grasps a striped peppermint from the dish on the countertop, and unfurls the wrapper with her telekinesis so that she can pop the candy into her mouth. “Sure. Let’s go to the office.”

Twilight nods in agreeance and Lyra turns to the employees working in the back, pointing to one in particular. “Crane!” She says, the stallion in question looking up. “You’re in charge for a bit, alright? Don’t let the power go to your head.”

Crane scoffs from over the shoulder of an employee he’d been helping. “‘Ey, be back quick or you’re fired!”

Lyra smirks and rolls her eyes, walking to the back of the restaurant with the princess. There’s a door back behind the restrooms that they head for, ‘employees only’ emblazoned on the wood in bright blue text. Once it’s opened, Lyra steps aside and invites Twilight into the stairwell with a hoof extended, and a smile on her muzzle.

The music upstairs is much quieter. It leaks through the cracks in the door in a muffled, upbeat mess.

“Aw, come on Crane…” Lyra whines, staring at a pile of boxes near a desk. “I’ve asked him to clean this crap up like, six times now.” She lifts a box of straws off of the stool in front of the desk with her magic, then sets it aside so that she can take a seat. Lyra motions to the bench behind the princess, who briefly checks over her shoulder to inspect it. “Go ahead and take a seat.”

“Ah, no thank you.” Twilight responds, to the bemusement of Dr. Heartstrings. “I’ll just… get right into it.”

The mint clicks around Lyra’s teeth as she smirks at her friend. “Wow, this sounds big. What’s up?”

Twilight tries hopelessly to match Lyra’s optimism. Failing that, she flutters her eyelashes and stares down at the floor. “I, uh… think we should dial things back a little bit—in regards to… us.”

Dr. Heartstrings stares onward as her tongue flicks the candy around, and her throat takes a minty gulp. “...Okay. And why’s that?”

Twilight looks back up with eyes creased in discomfort. “Lyra, I really like you. A lot.” The unicorn nods and swivels slowly on her stool, waiting patiently for the other shoe to drop. “...But I think we need to maintain a more professional work relationship.”

The chair squeaks a bit as Lyra leans back on it. “Are we… breaking some kind of rule I’m unaware of?”

Twilight sighs, and shakes her head. “Well no, not technically.”

“Okay, so then… Why?”

The rock chorus from downstairs excites a particularly noisy group of ponies, who’s cheers can be heard from beyond the walls. This only momentarily draws away Twilight’s attention, whose muzzle grows tighter with unease as she searches for the right words. “Lyra, I’m in a terrible spot here. I don’t even know what to say.”

“An explanation would be a good start.” Lyra quips.

Twilight inhales sharply before responding. “There are ponies out there being killed. And over politics that I’m at the center of!” Dr. Heartstrings narrows her eyes as the candy stops moving. “If one of these lunatics wanted to get to me, how do you imagine they’d do that? Who do you think they’d target?”

As Twilight finishes, the unicorn at the desk spins to look out of the one window in the room, and rub her eye with a hoof tip. “Did Celestia talk to you?” She asks plainly. “Is that why you’re treating me like a foal?”

Twilight scoffs. “What? No, nopony talked to me—”

“Well I do appreciate your concern, Twilight, but I am an adult. I can take care of myself.”

White light pours in behind Lyra as she continues to swivel gently. Twilight Sparkle stares onward with brow arched up in concern first, but, slowly loses the expression as her lips seal and the eyes gain a determined sharpness. “Lyra, I’m serious. We aren’t safe.”

The mint-green unicorn chuckles a little as she tosses up a forearm. “You don’t know that!”

“Yes, I do!” The princess rapidly responds. “I know that because I’ve already been here, and I’ve already lost—”

Something wasn’t right. Twilight couldn’t hide it—she had begin to say something she’d promised herself not to.

Dr. Heartstrings steadies herself with a leg against the floor. “‘You’ve already lost’… what?”

Without realizing it, Twilight had unfurled her wings in the heat of their discussion. Wings that now collapsed tightly against her sides. She keeps her lips sealed, and loses the edge that had only just flourished in her eyes, staring tiredly at the wall to her side. Lyra, patiently waiting for a response, casts a dissatisfied glance down at the floorboards. When she looks up at her friend again, it’s with the utmost authority. “How are we supposed to work through anything, if you’re not even willing to talk to me?”

Twilight stares with her profile not quite turned far enough to face Lyra. Her eyes are large and aching with sympathy; but no words come out.

Lyra sighs as she gets up off of the stool, and rests a forehoof atop one of the many cardboard boxes. “I have to get back to work. If you figure something out, you know where to find me.”

And with that, the young unicorn takes her leave, making no effort to notice the princess as she passes by. Silent still, Twilight does at least have the energy to turn and watch her friend go. The door closes gently, and the alicorn is left alone in the small office, where an icy light paints the edges of her defeated expression.

* * *

A cabin lies on the fringe of Ponyville, away from the rolling fields of Sweet Apple Acres. The yard outside is small, and the grass untrimmed, pockets of it peeking up through the heaps of snow. A rickety fence with faded paint wraps around the property. There’s a doghouse—though, no dog to be seen. The town of Ponyville can be seen on the distant horizon, but it’s unlikely most of its inhabitants have ever even visited this corner of the land, and the dozen or so burroughs that were built on top of it.

Inside, a group of pony youth lounge around the living room: two colts, and a teenage mare. Smoke drifts freely in the hot room, and is caught in the beams of sunlight that filter through the blinds to create orange pillars of fog. The furnishings were obviously no stranger to smoke. It showed in the tattered cloth of the couch—where one colt sat alone, and the other two leaned against from the floor—and in the dark, mottled carpet below them.

A radio rests on the floor with the ponies, smooth guitar licks and soulful singing ringing out for the small audience. A tall glass hookah flanks the left end of the couch, and various cans lay scattered about.

The colt on the floor, a scraggly pegasus with a dull blue coat plays with a deck of cards between his forehooves, attempting to shuffle the stack with sleight of hoof and experiencing mixed results.

“Shit…” He utters, as a clumsy mistake leads to most of the cards falling out of his hooves. The stallion above him laughs through his teeth, despite having his foreleg resting over his eyes and not being able to actually see the mistake. “Do you wanna try this, asshole?”

“Not really—” He responds slowly, getting interrupted by the blue pegasus before he can even finish.

“That’s what I thought.”

“—but I would make sure I could do it before I tried it in front of other ponies!”

The deck almost immediately collapses after the colt’s second attempt, and his legs just fall to the floor with them as he tightens his expression in frustration. The stallion above again starts to laugh, only this time the pegasus reaches up with a hoof and lightly punches him in his abdomen. “Fuck you.”

As the colt on the couch recoils, although obviously not in pain as he continues to laugh, the young mare sitting on the floor leans in to collect just one of the cards off of the carpet. Apple Bloom is Applejack’s younger sister, although as she clumsily cantered into young adolescence, the similarities grew further and further apart. She’s thin and lanky, and her mane much longer than in childhood. Dark eyeliner was on her face more often than not, and her iconic bow that she had worn during the days of cutie mark crusading, was gone. “I bet humans had no trouble shuffling cards.” She observes.

“Yeah, well, they’re dead.” Blue says dryly, collecting his deck next to Apple Bloom.

The colt on the couch obviously finds this amusing, as his laughter is muffled into the side of the couch. “Yeah… They could figure out how to deliver presents to all the kids in one night, but not how to survive an asteroid or whatever.”

Apple Bloom rolls her eyes and Blue snickers through a toothy smile. “Santa Claus wasn’t real, you fucking idiot.”

The stallion up top rolls over so he can look down at Blue with his brow scrunched in disbelief. “Dude, what the fuck are you talking about? Who delivered all those presents, then?”

“The parents!” Blue nearly shouts back in response. “It was the stupid story they came up with to tell their kids!”

As the explanation slowly filters through his mind, the pony on the couch stares at the ceiling and maintains a look of suspicion. “Whatever, dude.”

Blue shakes his head and laughs once more, reaching under the couch for any stray playing cards. Apple Bloom tosses the one she had a hold of into Blue’s reach, to which he collects and then thanks the young mare for. “Thanks, Babe.”

A moment of silence settles in the room, as the pegasus continues his search under the couch, and the other two simply stare off into space. Eventually, a thought comes over Apple Bloom, and she can’t help but voicing it aloud. “It is kinda weird to think about, though. The whole humans creatin’ us, I mean.”

“They coulda made us a little cooler…” Blue whines. “...I mean, who’s idea was it to use bright pastel colors?”

Suddenly, the colt atop the couch shoots back up from his sleep-like position and chimes in the conversation. “Oh dude, back in the old days ponies were actually less colorful though.”

“Yeah, you know old photos weren’t taken in color, right?”

“No, wait,” Apple Bloom interjects before the two can argue. “he’s actually right, ponies’ coats were less colorful a long time ago. Ah bet that has somethin’ to do with our magic!”

The look on Apple Bloom’s face says she knew she screwed up before the two colts even had the chance to look at each other and share a childish giggle. “Ah betcha that there magic gots som’n to do w’it!” The colt lying on the couch mocks, in an exaggerated accent. Apple Bloom shakes her head and dismisses them with a hoof, although the rosy tint on her cheeks betrays her feigned apathy.

“Fuck you guys.”

Blue smacks his friend again. “Ahhh, come on.” He faces Apple Bloom and offers a smile that’s lost somewhere between the transition of teasing and sympathy. “He’s just yanking your tail…” Apple Bloom side glances at her coltfriend with a less enthused expression.

“Babe, come on—” Something under the couch draws Blue’s attention away almost immediately, the colt lowering himself to get a better angle on it.

“What is it?” Apple Bloom asks curiously. The pegasus presses his tongue up onto his muzzle as he forces his reach deeper. After a moment of struggling, he retracts his hoof and pulls with it a rubber band wrapped bundle of cigarettes. The smile on Blue’s face grows wide, as the other two move closer to inspect.

“Shit, is that real tobacco?” Asks the stallion on top of the couch.

“Of course it’s real.” Blue uses his teeth to pry off the band, then the tip of his wing to pass a cigarette over to Apple Bloom. She hesitates, eyeing the offering with her brow furrowed in suspicion.

“You expect me to smoke some old cigarette you just pulled out from under your couch?”

Blue rolls his eyes and turns away, using his other wing to collect the pack of matches lying next to their hookah, and bringing them back around so that he can use them with his smokes. His friend lounging on the sofa above leans in curiously, and takes a cigarette with little persuasion needed. Blue holds one between his own teeth, and uses his hoof and wing to light one of the matches. Once lit, he brings it up to the cigarette end dangling from his mouth, and pulls in the flame with a couple of quick inhales. After the cherry’s lit, he shakes out the match and tosses it into a nearby empty can.

“See?” He says, pulling out the cigarette and blowing a cloud of smoke. “They’re fine.” Apple Bloom simply continues to stare, watching the embers burn under a curling trail of smoke. “Way I heard it,” A pause to take another drag. “humans from cultures all over the world would smoke these.”

The pony on top of the couch leans in and reaches for the box of matches still in Blue’s hoof. “Alright, well I’m convinced.”

Ignoring the other pony, Blue and Apple Bloom stare at one another while the colt silently wins her over with deep brown eyes, and a goofy smoke filled smile. He leans close to her muzzle, and connects the end of his cigarette with one Apple Bloom had retrieved, keeping eye contact as he does so. She snickers, and presses the unlit tip lightly against his embers, inhaling slowly and watching his eyes behind a screen of smoke.

After their moment of peculiar intimacy, Blue pulls back from Apple Bloom and her now lit cigarette, removing his own from his mouth so that he can smile and exhale. “To human ingenuity!” The smoke trail weaves a new path as he tips it with his wing.

Apple Bloom smirks, tilting her head and taking a long draw while she watches her coltfriend.

* * *

Thumping club music blares all around the massive room, as cool colored lights refract through large crystal displays, and tiny flakes of magic snow fall from seemingly nowhere, fading again before ever touching the ground. There are energetic pegasi at almost every altitude, stallions and mares alike, dancing wildly under the swinging lasers and lights. The highest parts of the hall are painted with vibrant green and violet lights; but as the walls expand downward, these give way to a darker, midnight blue pallet, leaving many of the lively patrons to dance as flailing silhouettes.

At one end of the colossus room is a bar. It winds around in a large, obtuse semi-circle, well-lit and no less extravagant than the dance floor itself. Sparkling black quartz makes up the bar top and trim around the base, with what appears to be a frozen tank of water sandwiched between. Softly changing lights glow outwardly from behind the frozen block, casting a myriad of colors around the pony legs that dangle from the stools.

One pair of those legs are owned by Rainbow Dash, who in stark contrast to the other occupants, sits quietly at the bar with a hoof propping up her head, and a pencil in her lips. Her drink, a plain looking beer, rests beside her notebook as she looks over a long list she’d written. Some of the contents are crossed out, and others are matched to each other with long, snaking lines.

A voice cries out from behind the pegasus, but is lost in the sea of noise. It isn’t until it’s accompanied by a hoof around her shoulder that the captain turns and listens.

“HEY!” The voice shouts. Its owner is another lean pegasus mare, a bit older than Dash and sporting a wild, flame-like mane. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING BACK HERE, COME DANCE WITH US!”

Rainbow Dash smirks as she turns back to her work and lays the pencil down on the table. “Nah, I’m fine—”

“WHAT?” shouts the orange pegasus standing beside her. Dash turns to face Spitfire directly.

“I SAID I’M FINE, THANKS.”

“NO, YOU’RE NOT.” Her old academy pal is quick to respond. “YOU’RE PLAYING CROSSWORD PUZZLES AT A NIGHTCLUB.”

Captain Dash sighs and puts a hoof up on the paper. “THIS IS E.S.F. WORK, SPITFIRE. SOMEPONY HAS TO DO IT.”

“SUN ‘N’ STARS, THEY DID A REAL NUMBER ON YOU…” Spitfire hops up onto the bar stool next to Dash before continuing. “I’M GONNA LET YOU IN ON A LITTLE SECRET: IT’S CALLED ‘WORK’, BECAUSE YOU DO IT—AT WORK.”

Again, Rainbow chortles a bit and puts her muzzle toward her notes. Spitfire shakes the cyan pegasus a little from behind her neck and across her shoulders, before sliding her forehoof off and turning to get the bartender’s attention. “HEY, BLACK CHERRY, RIGHT?” The unicorn behind the bar nods and approaches the two mares. “WE NEED TWO HEARTH STEINS OVER HERE.”

The stallion’s field of magic cleans a glass out as he agrees to Spitfire’s order, before Dash can oppose. “You got it.”

The rainbow-maned pegasus shifts in her stool as she watches the bartender step back to prepare the drinks. “I REALLY APPRECIATE IT, BUT—”

“AAH AH AH AH!” Spitfire interrupts, hushing her friend with a swaying forehoof. “YOU’RE NOT AT WORK ANYMORE, RIGHT?” Rainbow Dash looks toward her friend with tired eyes, but the shadow of a smile. “SO JUST… HANG UP THE—BUSINESS… HAT? AND LET ME HELP YOU HAVE A GOOD TIME.”

The bartender returns with two mugs, and two columns of steam following them. Spitfire thanks the stallion, then turns back to Dash with a goofy smile. Her hoof stays extended out on the bar top next to the hot drinks; at least until she retracts it slowly, revealing a single piece of white candy licorice.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?” Prods Dash.

“IT’S JUST LICORICE.” Spitfire replies nonchalantly.“REALLY, REALLY EXPENSIVE LICORICE. IT’LL HELP YOU LOOSEN UP A BIT, TRUST ME.”

At this, Rainbow Dash tilts her nose up ever so slightly, eyeing the candy with apprehension. “WHAT IS THIS, HIGH SCHOOL?”

“YES, THIS IS HIGH SCHOOL” The other mare responds with an eye roll. “DASH, YOU’RE IN ONE OF THE BEST CLUBS IN ALL OF EQUESTRIA, AND YOU’VE STILL FOUND A WAY TO MAKE THINGS BORING.” Spitfire shakes her head as she remembers something apparently of great relevance, pointing out to the fleet of pegasi dancing up in the air. “THEY HAVE SOME KIND OF MAGIC SHIELD HERE THAT LITERALLY VAPORIZES ANY PUKE THAT COMES HURDLING DOWN ONTO THE DANCE FLOOR. I MEAN, COME ON!” Dash turns to look out where her friend is pointing, brow twisted in between doubt and amazement. “COME ON, MARE. YOU KNOW THE OLD DASH WOULD BE OUT THERE.”

Rainbow Dash summons another drawn out sigh. Her short multi-colored mane hangs down to her eyes as she stares down at the sparkling quartz, and before a head shake can’t be resisted. “What the hell… PASS ME THE DRINK!”

The Wonderbolt obliges. “THERE’S MY GIRL!”

The two clink there mugs together, and take the first of many sips. Spitfire had won.

The mares enjoy a few more moments together at the bar, reminiscing and entertaining a few wild hypotheticals, until the drinks become mostly depleted, and the growing courage drives the two of them out onto the dance floor. Spitfire makes sure to collect the licorice beforehoof.

The dazzling lights and thumping music was a colorful distraction at the bar, but out on the dance floor it’s practically thick enough to drown in. Rainbow Dash head-bobs with her friend, casually at first—but the slow, deliberate motions quickly devolve into more passionate and uncoordinated ones as the night progresses.

It’s around this point that a large stallion begins to take interest. Rainbow Dash finds him through sleepy, half-open eyes, and smiles playfully from across the room. Spitfire notices too, eyes darting between the two as she approaches Dash with the licorice in her wingtip. She nuzzles somewhat suggestively against her friends neck and through her mane, wrapping a yellow wing around the captain’s chest simultaneously. Rainbow Dash tenses up at first, but doesn’t react much otherwise under the electric mix of stimuli.

Similarly, her brain doesn’t do much questioning as Spitfire pulls back and leads Dash with her, a cast-off glance making sure the stallion with broad shoulders was still watching. One end of the licorice was already in Spitfire’s mouth, placed there by her wing as she rubbed against Rainbow Dash. When the Wonderbolt leans in toward Dash, it doesn’t take long for her to get the message. Rainbow Dash closes her eyes and follows suit, biting the opposite end of the candy off, and bringing her muzzle close enough to Spitfire’s for a flirty, non-practical kiss.

Even in her drunken stupor, it’s obvious to Rainbow that her friend was well practiced at this. Her lazy eyes follow Spitfire’s—similarly half-lidded but in much more of an intentional, sensual manner—to the smirking colt watching them. His mane is thick and a curly piece of it droops over his eye, swaying hypnotically as he moves to the rhythm. The sweet candy is chewed and swallowed, as Dash gazes onward. Spitfire had done her part; and with the extra help of the atmosphere and the cocktail of substances now ingested, Rainbow Dash was poised to reap the benefits.

The blaring music is reduced to muffled, pouncing vibrations as the stallion walks into a back room with Dash. It’s dark, and much smaller of a space than the main hall, not that either of the ponies are really looking. Both stay locked in a passionate series of kisses, the well-built stallion leading Dash backward with slow, methodical force. Eventually her hindquarters bump noisily into a chair, turned upside down and placed alongside its sisters atop a table. Rainbow Dash only briefly turns to notice it, and to regain her balance with a forehoof, before returning quickly to the loud smacking of licks.

Suddenly, the stallion reaches out behind Dash, and knocks the chair she’d bumped into straight onto the floor. It crashes down there with a loud sound that likely would have drawn attention, were it not for the thumping club music. Rainbow Dash stays limp and simply allows the mysterious stallion to proceed, hoisting the mare up onto the table with his forelegs. Dash looks up at him, eyes now adjusted enough to see his large silhouette, rim-lit by a sliver of moonlight peaking in the room. He places his forehooves down with a dull thud, one after the other, and on either side of Dash. They kiss one last time, before he arches his back over the lean pegasus, and takes a deep inhale of her scent.

Perhaps it’s the isolation. Perhaps the total darkness, or maybe the quiet air that carries the stallion’s breath with sharp clarity. But for the first time tonight, Rainbow Dash’s tired eyes begin to crease with uncertainty.

“Wait—“ She says. The stallion stops, his right forehoof down below his stomach and out of Dash’s visibility. “—do you have…?”

The stallion hovers over her for a moment, wet mane dangling down and excited breath still rolling over his chest. “Oh.” He suddenly responds. “Yeah, right—of course.”

Rainbow Dash shifts the wait of her body as she pushes herself up a little more, releasing pressure on her wings, and allowing herself to see more of the stallion. She watches intently as he takes hold of the little square wrapper, biting one end and tearing it open. He drops the plastic on the floor and maneuvers the condom to the tip of the shadowy shape just under Rainbow’s groin. She leans against an elbow and tries her hardest to make a good, discreet look at the member, just as the rubber can be heard stretching out over it.

The stallion finishes his work faster than Dash anticipates, and pushes her back down with frightening force. Instinctively, her own forehoof wraps around the colt’s, with enough force applied to send a message. “Hold on.” She says, voice starting to shake. The stallion’s weight remains steady.

“Just—relax, okay?”

The pegasus’s heart begins to race, and she throws up the other hoof now against his stomach. “Wait, I said—I said stop!”

This time the stallion doesn’t even respond, instead pulling himself closer and taking a deep breath. Dash begins to curl her legs up off of the floor in defense.

“I said STOP!” She exclaims, just as she kicks his leg with her own hoof. The stallion stumbles back off of her, face suddenly twisted with shock and anger.

“What the fuck?” He barks.

Rainbow Dash doesn’t hesitate. She lands on her hooves and walks quickly toward the exit, only cautiously watching the other pony as she passes by. She turns her head forward too late and stumbles into another chair, gasping like she’d been attacked. Her heart continues to pound as she steadies herself and stumbles out the exit, taking great effort to not look over her shoulder.

Rainbow Dash passes by the bathroom entrances and finds herself back in the crowd, except this time, it sends her into a dizzying nightmare. She weaves through the tightly packed building, wide eyes scanning desperately for the main exit. A familiar voice calls out from the crowd, though it does nothing to distract Dash from her goal.

“Was he that fast?” Spitfire asks. Rainbow continues her uncertain march forward, ignorant of the subsequent calls. She shuffles clumsily around the flailing limbs and bodies, her mouth left hanging open, and red eyes growing mistier. “DASH! DASH, YOU ALRIGHT?”

* * *

Warm, dim lights fill the small cafe, and the slow jazz emanating from the grand piano compliments them wonderfully. There’s a dozen or so smiling faces reflected in the polished, black wood, sitting among the twinkling lights and between the tall windows where snow drifts pleasantly past. The song she plays—the mare sitting at the piano—is a quiet sinkhole; coaxing the princess’s mind deeper and deeper into the heartfelt lullaby.

“It’s a lot more impressive now, right?”

The voice comes from behind Twilight, and so she pivots her head back around so that she can face the pony across the table from her. “...What?”

Starlight Glimmer smiles a little wider, and gently levitates her cup back onto the plate. “The fact that we can play instruments like that, I mean.” She nods in the direction of the pianist. “After, you know, learning how small the humans’ fingers were.”

Twilight hesitates, like she’s still parsing through the words. After finally finishing, she lightly flutters her eyes and stares down at her own cup, smiling at the swirled beverage within. “...Right.” She says.

Silence follows between the two of them, allowing the gentle commotion and music in the room to pick up the slack. Starlight puts a hoof up on the table, leaning back and forth in small, antsy movements while she looks around the cafe. “Uh… so, I really appreciate you coming out here to see me,” She begins. “what with—well I know how busy you are, and everything…”

The princess nods attentively, but elects to stay silent as her friend continues.

“I’m just—I’m happy to see you again, Twilight. So… thanks.” Starlight ends her sentiment with a short and uncomfortable giggle, as if to assure Twilight she knows how awkward she’d just sounded.

“Of course.” Twilight responds plainly, taking a sip of her coffee shortly after. When the cup comes back down onto the plate with a soft clink, she can’t help but fix her gaze on the warm medley of liquids within, a pleasant white cream swirling listlessly through a dark pool. Once upon a time, the sight was unfamiliar.

“So I’ve actually been sort of busy too, lately.” Starlight goes on. “I think I’ve already told you about Trixie and her show that I’ve been helping with; but, I don’t know, I thought it felt like the right time to… consider my future a little more.” Twilight stares onward as the conversation remains one-sided. “I’m working part-time at uh…” the mare suddenly drifts off as her mouth continues to unhinge, staring up at the lights before releasing a quick sneeze. “Oh, bless me! A little magic curiosities and enchantment shop, is what I was gonna say. Trixie’s work had connected me with it. But I also went ahead and applied to Starswirl Academy!”

For the first time that evening, Twilight looks up with her full attention. “Starswirl?” She asks.

Starlight nods. “Yeah, you’ve heard of it, right?”

Twilight’s eyes begin to lazily drift down again, just falling short of that steaming hot beverage. “...Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Starlight Glimmer leans back on her stool before carrying on. “Yeah, well, I’m not too sure what my chances are that I get in, but, I just had to try, you know?” At this, Twilight looks back up and acknowledges her friend with a weak nod, obviously still distracted by something. “I mean, when I really sat down and thought about things, I mean really considered my options—I just couldn’t shake the feeling that that could really be good for me. I want to pursue a study of magic—I want to finally be somepony other than ‘that mare that one time oppressed an entire village’, you know?” She ends her sentence with a hoof held up alongside her shoulder, and a crooked little smile that doesn’t elicit much of a reaction from Twilight.

Now it was Starlight’s turn to think. She picks the warm cup up in her levitation, and brings it to her lips while staring out at the pianist. She doesn’t even immediately react, when Twilight’s next words come out. “...Maybe Starswirl isn’t a right fit for you, though.”

The unicorn’s gaze hangs loosely over the grand piano. There’s a small twitch in her smile, and her lips just barely part. In a mere moment, all the pretty lights and soothing music had soured, and been lost to a careless void. She might as well have been listening to her own funeral march.

“...I mean yeah, I—” Starlight clears her throat as she realizes the words would be more challenging to say than expected. “—I don’t know, I’m still looking around and all.”

Twilight Sparkle inhales sharply. “I just meant…” A painful silence ensues, as the princess struggles to articulate exactly what she had meant. Starlight aims to fill the gap.

“Yeah, I know. Like I said, I was just thinking about it, is all...”

Both mares quietly return to their drinks. Misery looms over the table like a storm cloud, sandwiched inappropriately in the midst of the room’s jazzy chords and lighthearted conversations.

* * *

The long, bare branches of the oak tree reach out to the sky, tips quivering gently in the freezing wind. The snowing itself had ceased, but piles of it remain surrounding the trunk of the tree, and around the stone statue out in the courtyard. The human family drawn into the carved stone would be rather cold, were they alive; their thin t-shirts and jeans hardly a reliable substitute for thick, pony fur.

A dispute between two stallions disturbs the otherwise silent air. They shout and wave their legs at one another, not long before it devolves into physical contact. The two guards standing under the museum’s second story overhang charge out to intervene.

“Hey!” One shouts. “Break it up, will ya!”

The stallions show no sign of listening, escalated their fight to a shove that nearly knocks one over. Both guards interject swiftly, prying the two apart from one another and holding them back.

“FUCK YOU, FUCKING BASTARD!” One of the struggling stallions shouts, hot breath drawing clouds in the frigid air. The guard restraining him throws him to the ground, pressing a foreleg against his neck, and using his remaining limbs to hold him against the stone.

“ENOUGH! ‘LESS YOU BOTH WANT A MONTH BEHIND BARS!” The guard barks. The stallion on the ground, a tan pegasus with a messy brown mane, turns his head enough so that he can spit snow and dirt out of his mouth. He looks past the guards and back to the other stallion with a grimace and a furrowed brow.

“I’D RATHER FACE THE NOOSE, THAN BE IN THE SAME PRISON AS THAT STRIPE-FUCKING COCKSUCKER!”

There’s a fire lit in the eyes of the pony mentioned, and he suddenly charges against the guard’s leg to try and close the gap with his enemy. The guard grunts as he kicks out the thug’s front legs, bowing his head and driving into his side so that they topple over into the snow; a large plume of it spreading out into the air.

While the four ponies wrestle out in the courtyard, a young couple and a mother with her foals watch from a safe distance. Their faces are frozen with shock, wide eyes locked helplessly on the struggle. There’s another pony there too; a mare with a flat cap and a gray scarf. Only this one doesn’t seem interested in the fight at all, instead walking quickly out of the museum entrance, and into the cold streets of Canterlot.

The night is suddenly broken with a massive flash of light, and an ear-splitting explosion. A blistering pillar of fire and smoke shoots out of the museum, shattering windows and consuming the ponies unfortunate enough to be standing in its range. Both guards whip their heads toward the fire, unaware of their two would-be prisoners as they make a run for it. There are a few bodies lying deathly still out on the cobblestone, and by the look of the black smoke that ejects out of the front door and windows—there were likely many more inside.

* * *

“ARSON IN CANTERLOT, EIGHT DEAD AND DOZENS INJURED IN ATTACK ON THE HALLS OF HUMANITY” Reads the newspaper’s bold headline. Below is a black and white photo of museum’s smoldering shell, guards holding back a crowd while firefighters do their work.

The paper is held by a diamond dog. He’s bundled in a jacket and scarf, staring down at the horrid news story while hunched over in the small square of sunlight the room receives. At his feet rest a curious pile of wood shavings, on and around an open book lying down there. There’s a table next to him, a small cup of coffee steaming atop it, but not the first item he reaches for. Instead, he reaches out for the tall bottle of liquor standing next to it, stifling a cough as he brings it toward him. He rests the newspaper on the arm of the chair, then uses both paws to open the bottle, and pour some of the colored liquid into his coffee.

A scuffle from upstairs momentarily breaks the creature’s concentration, dust raining down from the floorboards as two individuals argue above him. Cave’s eyes watch the dust filter down through the light, mindful of the hot cup he holds in his paw. He brings it to his lips without looking down, taking a drink of the strong concoction and wincing at its bite. His face reveals the hardships he’d endured, down to gray beard hairs peppered along his chin, the wrinkles under his eyes, and the long, pink scars running down his face.

As the confrontation upstairs shows no sign of stopping, Cave tosses the newspaper flat on the floor and places his drink back on the end table, trading it for the wood carving and knife next to it. He leans further forward in his old tattered chair and begins to carve—eyes darting back and forth between the block and the open book below, with various schematics and charcoal sketches exposed to the cold air. From what Cave had already whittled, the look of his hard-fought human treasure was already starting to form.

And it would continue to materialize. Between the sweltering heat of a blacksmith's hammer and anvil, steel would flatten into what seems like pieces of some kind of exotic armor. In the sand molds that are crafted by the group of diamond dog engineers, tooling away over diagrams and open books, amidst pieces of locomotive engine parts lying scattered about. In the molten iron that gets poured into the molds, blazing hot until it hardens and sets in the shape of an engine block much smaller than the locomotive parts around it.

Tirelessly these creatures would work. Ponies, griffons, and diamond dogs alike, all shaking paws with Cave as he’d present his documents and exorbitant amount of bits. The coach trimmer who attends to the upholstery, the carpenter who works on the interior furnishings—not everyone is eager to take on Cave’s daunting task, and many turn him down. But Equestria is a big place; and as the snow melts away across the country, and reveals the blooming flora that had been hiding underneath it, Cave finally sees his vision completed. Right down to the freshly milled key, as it’s passed to him.

* * *

Rain pours down gently from the cold, overcast skies. It taps against the tall windows of the tower, and rolls down them as their shadows dance about the room’s occupants. The High Council was in session; and things were looking much more lively for the group than usual.

“—ponies have been killed, now. Murdered in terrorist attacks, in Canterlot streets, no less!”

“Where did these deviants even come from? We’ve made dozens of arrests now, and there’s no sign of the violence ending.”

Through all the commotion, one pony remains rather silent. Twilight Sparkle sits in her usual spot opposite of Celestia, staring lifelessly down at the table.

“We need a motive—we must capture their leader.” Suggests one of the only two griffons in the room.

“We’ve already wasted enough time as it is, trying to analyze these criminals. I say it’s high time we act—and close The Vault.”

“You’d suggest backpedalling on The Vault, after less than a year of it being open? We’d be giving into terrorist demands!”

“To hell with our dignity, ponies are dying!” A spectacle wearing stallion barks back. All the while, Princess Twilight remains deathly still and abnormally quiet—Celestia studying her young cohort’s expression from the other end of the room.

“Councilman Raymond is right.” A middle-aged unicorn mare adds. “We can’t sit idly by anymore; I mean, who’s to say what kind of havoc will be wrought if the technology in there falls into the wrong hooves?”

“From what I heard, there’re weapons in there that’ll completely invalidate our rifles—our most powerful magic, even.”

The amber scaled dragon next to Celestia intervenes. “The data’s been combed long before the doors opened, there’s nothing in there that’s relevant to the advancement of weapons technology.”

“And we’re expected to believe that?”

“I expect you to have faith in your ruler, yes.” Princess Celestia delivers with strong authority. “The data is clean.”

The room suddenly goes quiet, not but the gentle rapping of rain on glass can be heard. The older unicorn mare near the middle of the table works up the courage to break the silence, speaking in a calm, and deliberate voice. “Be that is it may, I think we can all agree that things have been—rather chaotic since The Vault opened. Maybe Equestria just isn’t ready for mankind…”

Suddenly, life sparks in Twilight’s eyes, and she drags her gaze up from the table and out toward her audience. “I’d like to say something, if that’s alright.”

Many of the council members look to one another and share curious, confused glances; until the mare who’d spoken before, Councilwoman Velvet, acknowledges the alicorn’s request. “Of course, Princess Twilight.”

Twilight breathes in, blinks slowly, and then focuses her distant gaze on the wall behind Celestia. And as she speaks, there it remains. Frozen like she had no use for her eyes. “Back when I was a student of Celestia’s, I was given responsibility of a young dragon named Spike. I watched over him during my stay in Golden Oak Library, and then continued to once I’d come into possession of the castle. He was likely my first true friend—and in many ways, remained as my closest.” She pauses as thunder rolls in the far distance. “...Anyway, when I became Princess of Friendship and my duties in Equestria grew more political, I couldn’t help but feel a gap grow between Spike and me. My other friends too, but it was… more difficult for me to explain that distance to Spike. I remember being irritated with him. I was to attend a meeting, and he didn’t want me to go. I left on a bad note. ‘He would understand one day’, I thought to myself.”

Finally, Twilight pulls back her stare so that she can look around the room at the other ponies. “I don’t need to explain to you guys that my work in Canterlot has made some critics of me. Critics of my beliefs, of my laws. I’d just pushed for an education reform that would help foreign exchange students better integrate into their classes, in perhaps a time when foreign relations were particularly stressed. And so one of my more radical critics saw fit to retaliate—breaking in to and vandalising my home. She’d come to kill me. Only, I wasn’t there. I was in a meeting. And so it wasn’t until I made it back late that night that I’d see the extent of her rage. The broken window and graffiti. The guard that would end up hospitalized. The doors to my bedroom, smashed open. And Spike—who had nothing to do with it—and who’d been murdered.” Princess Twilight blinks a few times over her red eyes, pausing the story once again to steady her voice. “Because of a grudge some mare had with me. Because I wasn’t—there.”

She swallows the knot in her throat and steels her gaze, regaining her composure before even a single tear is shed. “My friends would know, of course. But under Equestrian law the story would never get a headline, and ‘officially’, Spike had migrated East. A part of me started to believe that, and maybe that made it a little easier… But that doesn’t change the fact of what really happened.” Twilight’s expression was now almost completely back to the way it was before she began her story; lifeless, and apathetic. She lowers her brow and peers out to the other members of the council, delivering one final message with a strong, convicted tone.

“We don’t need the humans’ help to do evil. We’ve gotten there just fine by ourselves.”

Dead silence follows. The other members are lost for words, and sheepishly glance around to one another. Only Princess Celestia keeps her eyes locked onto Twilight, as the silhouette of rain on the windows roll down her visage.

* * *

Rain blows over the hills of Ponyville as the wind picks up, and the distant storm brews. Princess Twilight walks slowly across the field outside her castle, a magic distortion field redirecting the rain around her. She walks up the golden steps leading to her home, and uses another spell to swing open the massive front doors, paying little mind to the guards that salute her as she does so.

Twilight makes her way through the grand, empty halls until she finds herself in a candle-lit study, peering down lifelessly at an empty desk. The tapping of rain against a round window above draws her attention, if only long enough to build a deep sigh at the sight.

An inkwell is placed down on the desk. Twilight’s magic next locates a quill, and finally, a piece of plain parchment. She dips the pen tip gently into the black ink, next bringing it to the paper so that she can write on it with deliberate, well-practiced strokes.

‘Dear Starlight Glimmer,’ It begins.

After she’s finished writing it, the letter is folded and placed carefully into a white envelope, and adorned with a violet seal that bares the princess’s cutie mark. It’s finally levitated back down the halls and into the magic of another pony. A guard, that Twilight asks politely to deliver it for her. He nods his head and accepts the request without question.

The final room that Princess Twilight goes to see for the evening is a rarely visited one. As she walks toward the door slowly, her eyes fixate on the rectangle of green light that projects out from under it, glowing vividly in the dark hallway. She approaches the door with a silver key, sticking it into the door’s lock and turning it until there’s a soft click. When she finally opens the door fully, she’s blanketed by the strange green light. As the only source of illumination inside, it blankets the rest of the room, too.

It shines and reflects off of the crystal designs around the doorway and windows, violet curtains drawn tightly shut. It illuminates the hanging banners and bookshelves and telescope—all untouched for years, and painted with coats of dust. The bed is perfectly made, blankets clean and unwrinkled, pillows propped up and undisturbed. And next to it, lies a much smaller bed—similarly well-made, and with an ornate frame.

Twilight takes her first step into the bedroom, passing by a mirror over a bookshelf as she does so. Along it, photos are held under the frame, so that the ponies in them stare back at whoever might have viewed their reflection there. Photos of the Elements of Harmony spending time together—Twilight, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Fluttershy—and the little violet dragon smiling there with them.

The source of all the light in the room, a green flame encapsulated in a glass jar, comes into Twilight’s possession as she levitates it off of the ground. It had been placed meticulously into the center, spreading its light to every wall and creating long shadows that dance along them. Twilight walks it carefully over to the larger bed, where she climbs up with the jar and lies down on the blankets, clutching the magic item closely to her chest. And there she remains. Closing her watered eyes and sobbing softly in the dark, with the magic flame licking the walls of the jar as her only comfort. The last remnant of a friendship, between a mare and a dragon; and of a bond, between a mother and her child.

With a creak in the darkness, the moment is disturbed. Twilight jerks her head over her shoulder, peering toward the door still left ajar.

“Hello?” She calls out meekly. With no response, the mare wipes her tear-stricken face and sits up, careful to set the jar down on an end table before moving further. She pauses and waits afterward, sitting frozen under the bed canopy as only the warm crackle of the flame, and the muffled rapping of the rain can be heard.

Twilight maneuvers to the edge of the bed, stepping out onto the cold floor and making for the entrance. She leans her head out of the room and peers down the hallway, finding nopony at all outside. A magic field envelopes the door handle, and she starts to slowly pull it shut as it creaks noisily on its hinges. The last place she looks before it closes entirely is down at the carpet, lit dimly by the green flame behind her. There’s a single dirty paw print leading into the room—and no signs of one leading out.

“I’m sorry, Princess.” Says a voice from behind.

Twilight isn’t fast enough to react. One paw reaches out to cover her muzzle, the other, sent to inject something into her neck. Twilight’s screams are muffled as she struggles against her assailant, kicking and thrashing even as the drug is administered. Once the needle is empty, the diamond dog frees his paw and leaves it sticking out of Twilight’s coat, getting a stronger hold on her head to subdue her. They grapple on the floor as Twilight’s protests grow weaker, and her magic sparks wildly at the air behind her.

Cave continues to hold the pony down on the ground a while after she’d gone silent. His muscles strain, and his eyes wince at the newly contracted burns along his shoulders.

When he finally releases her, Twilight slumps over lifelessly; and Cave’s plan is finally put into motion.

The Vision

Author's Note

Chapter Six Recap:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1NV4pMArFkSnMPA7n7xv4ptLIDRuVYSfE3a3mNlruYrs/edit?usp=sharing

The Vision

Twilight Sparkle suddenly jerks awake. She inhales sharply, looking around at her surroundings to see if she was someplace unfamiliar, and perhaps even in danger. But she isn't. She’s in her own room, sitting in her own bed. Her breathing steadies and her eyes sag once more, staring down at the covers held over her.

The princess starts her day normally, getting dressed and brushing her teeth. Her blank gaze stays fixated on the mirror as she does so, bathroom door hanging open to a quiet, empty hall.

* * *

A choir of young foals sing cheerfully out in the sunlit Canterlot gardens. “The fire of friendship lives in our hearts, as long as it burns we cannot drift apart!”

Princess Celestia stands atop the short stairway leading into the grass, smiling brightly at the school children’s heartfelt presentation. Their teacher stands to the side as well, smiling just the same but with an unmistakable nervousness in her eyes, as she mouths the lyrics along with the foals.

“...laughter and singing will see us through!”

Twilight Sparkle arrives at the scene in a rush to greet her mentor, but stops and waits patiently to the side once she notices the commotion. Princess Celestia remains engaged with the act, not even noticing her young cohort. But Princess Luna—who stands beside her sister with sagging eyes and much shorter smile—notices Twilight almost immediately. The young alicorn waves to Luna, who nods back with a worrying look of concern.

“...our circle of friends will be to the very eeeeeeend!”

The young choir finishes to a round of light applause, and Princess Celestia’s gleeful praise. “Oh, that was just wonderful! Thank you all very much!”

Princess Twilight’s smile fades as a concerned Luna quietly steps away to talk with her. “Twilight Sparkle. Do you have a moment to speak privately?”

Twilight’s mouth hangs ajar while she considers her response. “I uh—yeah, sure. I can do that. Is… everything alright?”

“Everything is fine.” Luna is quick to answer, though it does little to dispel Twilight’s worrying. “There is simply a matter we must discuss.”

Twilight again gets hung up in a lull, unsure of what to say. Before she finds it, the group of children out in the garden suddenly burst into celebration, and the still smiling Princess Celestia steps away to join her corulers.

“Good morning, Princess Twilight.” She says. “Did you catch the class’s lovely performance just now?”

Luna looks to the floor with an impatient frown, as Twilight stumbles over her response. “Yes. Well—I just arrived near the end of it; but it was very nice!”

Princess Celestia smiles wider at her graduated pupil, next looking over to the quiet alicorn on her left. Luna acknowledges the glance with a weak nod.

“Sister. Do you think the young Princess Twilight and I could have a moment to speak?”

“Oh!” Celestia springs back a little. “Of course.”

“It will only take a few minutes.”

Princess Celestia nods, looking back and forth between the two younger mares. “Very well. If you need my input on anything… well, you know where to find me!”

With their final goodbyes, Celestia departs from the other two, and heads back to join the class out in the garden. Princess Luna wastes little time motioning with her head at the opposite direction. “Walk with me?” She asks of Twilight.

Once the two have gone some distance from the gardens, and now find themselves trotting along the castle wall, Princess Luna decides that it’s finally time to talk.

“I have to first admit something, Twilight Sparkle. Something I hope you won’t find too… distressing.”

Twilight follows the mare closely at her side, staring intently while she waits. “What is it?” She asks.

Luna glances over, as the sunny fields and distance mountains of Equestria stretch out behind her. “My sister asked a favor of me recently. To dreamwalk with you, without your knowing.”

Princess Twilight looks down at her hooves, traipsing over the white stone beneath them. “Oh.” She responds softly. “...How long has that been happening?”

“Quite some time.” Luna nonchalantly admits. “Not long after Spike’s passing.”

A stillness grows between the pair. The gentle clopping of their hooves plays percussion for the choir of birds chirping around them. That, and the distant, unintelligible conversations of Celestia and the young students still in the gardens.

“...Why are you telling me this?” Twilight finally asks.

“Because—” Princess Luna ends their walk prematurely, glancing at the gardens in the distance before looking back down at Twilight. “—I need you to understand that I had reason to be their last night, in your dream.” The younger alicorn stares up, eyes creasing like she’d done something wrong. “And I need to hear—in your own words—what you saw.”

Princess Twilight stares with her mouth agape. “I—I don’t understand…” She manages to say. “Am I going to be in trouble for something?”

“Please,” Luna responds in a cool, direct tone. “just explain to me what you saw, as you can best remember.”

The distant conversations of the young students draw Twilight’s attention away for a moment. She can just make out Celestia’s long, flowing mane, the pastel colors glowing brightly in the sun. “Very well…” She starts as she turns her head back around. “As well as I can remember…”

Luna straightens her pose and prepares to listen, eyes laser focused on the younger mare. “It was farmland, I was in. Rows and rows of crops around me, stretching much wider than the fields of Sweet Apple Acres. It was… corn, I think. The crops. And there were ponies there too, but—not like us, not…” Luna’s gaze tightens a little more as she watches Twilight try to describe it. “...they didn’t look ‘alive’, they didn’t look—sentient. They were animals. I knew it the moment I looked into their eyes, they—” She shakes her head. “...they had no idea why they were there. And there were others there with them, other—creatures. I had never seen anything like it; they walked upright, and had strange hairless bodies… And they’d arrived in a loud, metal carriage. The whole thing unnerved me. I didn’t want to be seen, I wanted to hide in the crop fields—but I couldn’t move.”

There’s a small gap in Twilight’s story that Luna doesn’t hesitate to use. “You were watching these creatures from your own perspective?”

Twilight nods silently. “I was so frightened… I just wanted to run.”

A warm breeze picks up, rustling both of their feathers and sliding pedals from the garden across the ground. Princess Luna finally breaks her stare with Twilight, looking out toward the vast Equestrian landscape beyond the wall. There her distant gaze remains, even as Twilight’s soft voice calls out from behind.

“Does… any of that mean anything to you?”

Luna blinks, and starts to turn her head around but stops before reaching even halfway. “...We should speak with my sister.”

* * *

The council chambers are eerily quiet. With the curtains closed, light hangs in the air in dim, dusty patches, a single slice of pure sunshine emitting from a gap in one set of the curtains, over a window on the wall furthest away from the ponies. This thin line of bright light divides those at the table, Princess Celestia in her usual spot at the head, flanked on her left by her sister Luna, and then finally Dominus Temporis. Twilight Sparkle sits to her right, violet hooves up on the table where the slit of light crosses over them.

“Can I offer you anything to drink?” Celestia calmly asks the young alicorn.

Twilight looks up, shakes her head slowly, then parts her lips. “What is going on?” She asks.

Princess Celestia slides her own forehoof along the table, connecting it gently with Twilight’s. “Twilight… what you saw—I’m sure by now you’ve realized that it was hardly a meaningless dream. There’s a tremendous weight that those images carry, and I don’t know how they came to you, I don’t know why you saw those things—” The princess pauses briefly, and looks over to the two cohorts on her left. “—but, I think we can all agree, this is a sign we’d be wise not to ignore.”

Twilight, brow arched and sick with worry, leans in far enough to block the line of sunlight with her muzzle. “But what does it mean?”

Princess Celestia stares down at their hooves on the table. Twilight’s looks small enough to be owned by a foal, when compared to her own ivory hoof that presses against it. “...There was another species, long ago. Not like pony, diamond dog, or griffon-folk. These creatures were different. They had no contact with magic, but their genius was unmatched. And sometime long before Equestria was ever founded, a time long before my sister and me, these ‘humans’—birthed us.”

There’s a flinch in Twilight’s eye during Celestia’s explanation. She looks around at the other two, faces equally serious, then back to Princess Celestia. “...‘Humans’?” She asks back to her. “Is… this some kind of prank?”

“No.” Celestia answers plainly. “I assure you, this is quite real.”

The youngest alicorn narrows her eyes and shakes her head once more, pulling her hooves back to her side of the sunlight. “How—why has nothing ever once been mentioned about this in the hundreds of thousands of books that’ve been published?”

“This is no coincidence.” Luna responds, with her entrance into the conversation.

Princess Celestia turns toward her, then quickly returns her gaze to Twilight and offers a simple nods. “She’s right. There has been a deliberate effort to conceal this information.”

Twilight’s face scrunches up with confusion while she leans in to respond. “Why?”

Celestia takes longer to answer this time. Her gaze briefly passes over the other members of the council, before settling back on the young princess. “That answer is… complicated.” Before she can expand, Twilight slides back away from the table and shakes her head. “These creatures were extraordinary in many ways, but in others, they were far behind the unified culture Equestria represents. Trust me, Twilight Sparkle, some history is better off forgotten.”

Twilight opens her mouth to respond, but is interrupted by the sound of a hoof knocking on the door behind her. Everypony in the room turns to look, Celestia announcing their presence. “You may enter.”

The door swings open slowly, revealing a thin unicorn stallion standing behind it. “The High Council is gathered downstairs, Princess Celestia.”

Celestia flaps her wings and stands up from the table. “Thank you. I will be down in just a moment.”

Twilight Sparkle watches her mentor walk confidently past her and to the stairwell, mouth still agape and likely primed to ask a hundred more questions. Princess Luna follows her sister as well, leaving only Twilight and the amber dragon Dominus sitting at the table.

“Forgive me, Twilight. I know you too well to imagine that your curiosity has been sated, but I must attend to this. We will return in just a short moment.” She steps aside and allows Luna to pass through first, then leaves Twilight with naught but a small smile and nod.

The door clicks and seals out any more answers, at least for the time being. The chair under Twilight creaks as she turns back around and exhales, forehooves spread out on the table, and blurry reflection staring back at her.

“Are you a frequent dreamer, Princess Twilight?”

The alicorn’s eyes narrow a smidge, and she looks up at Dominus confused further still. “Huh?”

Dominus Temporis leans in with one scaly arm resting on the table. “Do you often remember your dreams from the night prior, and is it usually with this much clarity?”

Twilight blinks a few times while thinking on the question. “Sure, I guess. I mean… I don’t know. In the mornings, I do.” A realization dawns on the young princess shortly after her answer, and she looks up to Dominus with a renewed curiosity. “Hey, you had to have seen all of this, right?” A smirk grows on the dragon’s muzzle. “Is this… for real? Is Canterlot going to reveal this to everypony?”

Dominus chuckles with elderly sounding breath. “You know I can’t divulge that sort of information.”

Disappointed, Twilight drops her head and looks away. “...Right.” She responds softly. Taking another look across the table, Twilight gets a good glance at the dragon smiling back at her. His rugged scales and dark, twisting horns create a rather imposing image. Had she not known Dominus, the sight of him might have been rather frightening. But Twilight knew him quite well, and the truth was that Dominus Temporis was one of the friendliest creatures in all of Canterlot. “...Is that why you asked me about my dreams? Is that how you see things?”

The crooked smile on the dragon grows a little wider. “Oh no, my magic operates quite differently. I suppose the best comparison to make with them would be to memories.”

“Memories?” Twilight asks, curiosity growing.

“That’s right. You see, I have ‘normal’ memories like everypony else, but my mind also captures memories of events that haven’t yet passed. You might say that my memory is… ignorant of time.”

The young princess scrunches her face up in thought. “Doesn’t that… get confusing for you?”

Dominus hesitates for a moment, and the smile retracts just a hair. “Absolutely.”

As Twilight’s curiosity grows, Dominus takes a moment to shift forward in his seat, and place his folded claws down onto the table. “There’s a legend about another… ‘unique’ dragon like me, having lived far to the West, many years past now. His ability quickly earned him a leadership role over his village—The Baron of Whitesand, I believe his title was. He chose to rewrite fate with his power, mostly in the interest of military conquest, and defense of his throne. He was untouchable because of it, always outmaneuvering the enemy and striking down would-be assassins with complete decisiveness. He believed himself to be a god; and his enemies and followers alike had little reason to doubt that. But as he tapped deeper into that well of premonitions, insanity began to take him into its clutches… The more the young baron peered further into the future, the more his understanding of the past and present regressed. He began to forget strategies, names, dates, his own language—even the faces of his only two children. Everything, replaced with visions of death, and a barren, lifeless void—that stretched endlessly over the cosmos.”

At this point, Twilight’s curiosity had begun to sour under a newfound sense of dread. Dominus notices the shaken look in her wide eyes, and seeks to repair some of the damage with another chuckle and one final thought. “...Or so the legend goes, anyway.”

For a moment after, Twilight Sparkle is unable to even imagine a response. When it does come to her, she replies with a quiet tone and a frozen gaze. “...I suppose I’m thankful my magic is rather different, then…”

Shortly after Twilight finishes, hoofsteps can be heard outside of the door. The dragon’s familiar grin returns. “‘Your magic’ may quite literally be the first of its kind, Princess Twilight.”

Confused and still a little scared, the young alicorn silently peers back at Dominus, her lips parting slowly as she struggles to respond.

She doesn’t have to. The door behind her suddenly swings open with Celestia’s magic, causing Twilight to spin around and watch as The High Council files in. Princess Celestia is standing there to the side, one wing open and a hoof outstretched to welcome everypony. She smiles as warmly as she always did, like everything was under control, and that a solution would be found to all problems. It was a practice that Twilight still struggles with.

* * *

The marble halls of Castle Canterlot create a resounding percussion, as Celestia and Twilight walk down them together. The elder princess walks with a strong, noble stride; quite contrasting with Twilight’s nervous shuffle.

“Have you eaten yet today?” Celestia spontaneously asks.

Twilight lifts her head toward the ivory alicorn, her expression asking ‘what?’ well before her mouth gets the chance to.

“Are you hungry? We can take a little break and visit the cafe, if you like.”

Now on the same page, Twilight stares back down to the long corridor ahead of them. “No. I’m fine, thank you.”

The two grow silent once more. The pair of their hoofsteps are the sole noise in the hall, until curiously, one stops. Twilight notices the other princess is no longer at her side, looking both ways before turning around completely. There Celestia stands alone, staring at a rather large painting on the wall. “This should be close enough.” She says.

Twilight had gotten quite used to hearing things that didn’t make sense to her, today. She wanders back to Celestia’s side, joining her in inspecting the painted canvas. There were quite a few hung along the long hall, mounted between ornate archways and unlit torches. Princess Twilight doesn’t notice anything particularly unique about the art they stood before now. It’s a simple scene of Canterlot Mountain in the center of a violet evening sky, though master crafted as it may be.

“Stay close to me, Twilight.”

The young princess does as she’s told, standing less than a wing away from Celestia. Gold waves of magic begin to swirl around the two of them, growing brighter and louder with an almost musical tone, before it all vanishes in an instant. Along with the two mares.

A flash of light, and the two make a reappearance in another room. A much larger hall, leading one direction and with only one doorway. There’s soft red carpet underhoof, and hanging braziers that light the cathedral-like ceilings above. There are even what appear to be vines and flowers growing along the pillars and walls, despite there not being a single window in the hall.

Twilight’s staring finally moves away from the massive room and over to her mentor. “...Where are we?” She asks.

Celestia tilts her head down toward her smaller coruler. “We’re quite a ways beneath Canterlot.” She replies nonchalantly. “Come along, it’s not much further now.”

She heads off down the hall as Twilight follows cautiously behind. A million questions likely swirling around her mind, not at all helped by them reaching the end of the hall and entering into another massive chamber; this one dark, and exceptionally more ancient looking. The ponies cross a great stone bridge, endless darkness looming in the shaft above them, and Twilight much too frightened to step anywhere near the edge of the bridge to peer below. The cavernous room creates a low-pitched hum, occasionally accompanied by distant, otherworldly whistling noises. And at the end of the ancient crossing is a single doorway, open, and what appears to be daylight pouring in from it.

“I should warn, your magic will not work down here.” Celestia says.

Twilight had already been falling a bit behind, but now she can’t help but stop herself completely. Princess Celestia quickly notices, stopping her own walk forward and turning around. She was in the light of the doorway now, a warm glow outlining her silhouette while Twilight remains painted in tones of midnight blue. There’s a massive stone globe hanging over the doorway too, Twilight notices, the outlines of continents etched into it.

“Are you feeling alright?” Celestia asks.

Princess Twilight exhales, shaking her head ever so slightly. “What are we doing?” Her voice is pained, and pleading for an answer. “I mean, you’ve told me practically nothing! And now we’re—beneath Canterlot, in some… ancient, hidden place?”

“Twilight…” Celestia is able to briefly interject.

“And this is all because of some dream I randomly had? If I hadn’t had that dream, were you ever planning on telling me about this place? And why hide the fact that you were dreamwalking me? How many more secrets are you keeping from me?” She asks with desperation in her eyes and voice, wings involuntarily coming unfurled.

Another strange whistle echoes throughout the chamber as Celestia steps further away from the door, and closer to Twilight. “I know that this is all quite overwhelming for you. This is one of the reasons it’s remained a secret for so long. Do you remember the day of your alicornation? Can you imagine the additional stress you would’ve had to bear, if you were to walk these halls for the first time only months or weeks after?”

Twilight remains quiet. Her head shakes only just noticeably, then she stares up at her mentor like her heart was on the verge of breaking. “...You didn’t trust me.” She responds softly.

Princess Celestia tilts her head up and creases her eyes in a rare display of emotion. “Twilight Sparkle.” She begins, with a mother-like tone. “I’ve had nothing but faith in you.” Her hoofsteps resonate as she walks along the cold stone, and kneels down in front of Twilight so that she can speak with a soft, intimate voice. “I’ve never once doubted your strength, or your intelligence, your courage; but the issue before us now goes well beyond the two of us and our relationship… it’s…” Celestia peers down at the ancient architecture beneath their hooves, and her gentle smile suddenly returns. She looks back up and stares directly into Twilight’s eyes. “Why don’t I just show you, hmm? Some things simply can not be put into words.”

The younger princess looks up, eyes still misty but understanding enough to nod in agreeance. She keeps her head up and facing toward the light, as Celestia stands up quietly and starts to walk side-by-side with her. The matriarch’s great wing reaches out, and covers over Twilight’s back as if to guide her. As if to guide a foal, on her first day of school. They walk along the bridge until both enter into the shaft of light, and Twilight stares upward at the stone globe as they pass under it. It’s curious, the globe’s design. At this distance Twilight could be sure that the continents on it were not in any order that she recognizes.

The doorway passes by the two mares, and an odd warmth greets both of them. Twilight still had her eyes peering upward as they entered, but instead of a high ceiling, or an endless black pit like the last room featured, in this one, she finds a clear blue sky. White clouds drift lazily along the peaceful canvas, and strange white streaks form along the distant background. Twilight nearly stumbles over with her gaze held upright for so long.

“...What… is…” Is all she manages to ask, eyes finally drifting downward and noticing more massive stone walls, and not open fields like the blue sky seems to hang over. The grandiose, intricate pillars and walls that reach upward fade into an impossible view of the heavens, like two realities had collided with one another.

“It’s an illusion.” Celestia calmly explains. She’d noticed Twilight’s enraptured pose, and furthers her explanation with a bit of a playful smirk. “Not magic. Not like we know it, anyway.”

Twilight is fixated on the ‘sky’, eyes only coming down after both mares had walked a good distance into the massive room. She couldn’t be sure, but Twilight imagined this place to be a quite a bit larger than the princess’s throne room, even. Grand pillars reach up to meet the enchanting ceiling, and root themselves in a bluish, translucent floor. The smooth surface beneath the mares almost appears to be a body of water—frozen in time, rather than ice.

The first room that Celestia leads Twilight into is one covered in darkness. The majestic glow of the main chamber spills into this much smaller area, and provides just enough light to reveal Twilight’s curious eyes as she steps through the open doorway. Once both ponies are inside, new sources of light slowly come to life, and expose the ancient contents of the room.

Unlike the previous chamber, most of this area is filled with more typical furnishings. Wooden cabinets, floorboards, soft carpet and dull, warm lights. The centerpiece, however, is anything but typical.

Twilight staggers forward as her breath is taken away, eyes fixated on the display in a large glass case. Behind the spotless glass resides a skeleton—upright, like a diamond dog or dragon—but with Twilight’s anatomical understanding, neither of those creatures left this behind. She was staring at the bones of a human.

“I…” The young princess says meagerly. She looks over her shoulder at Celestia, who stands confidently behind her with a simple smile. A small, understanding, unmoving smile.

Twilight, not nearly as composed, turns back around to face the creature’s remains, gazing up at them with a single tear growing in her eye. The figure looks to be about six feet tall, complex finger bones leaving no mystery about their means of physical contact, flat face and short tailbone—it was unmistakable. These were the beings in Twilight’s dream.

“I know you’d like to spend much more time here.” Twilight spins around as her mentor suddenly speaks. “But there is something else that I imagine you’d be quite interested in seeing.”

The two mares leave the room shortly after, with Celestia taking the lead. She crosses to the opposite side of the main hall with Twilight, the young princess getting another opportunity to admire the massive chamber while thoughts of the previous discovery no doubt fill her head.

Celestia leads Twilight through another open doorway, and into another dark room. Similarly to the first, this one also takes the initiative when the two wanderers enter, and begins to slowly reveal itself with warm lights. This is also where the similarities with the other room end.

Twilight was standing in a cavernous, multi-leveled library. Towering rows of bookshelves surround the circular room on every side, a wide, grand staircase leading the ponies down into the center of the chamber—a marble pit with another unfamiliar depiction of Earth—and opposite of another, smaller set of stairs that lead to a raised and extended area of the room. This spot is filled with cushioned benches, large pillows, low tables, and immense floor-to-ceiling windows, their fogged glass painted with the calming shades of an overcast sky, and the shadows of raindrops sliding down them. Another trick, Celestia was sure to explain.

Princess Twilight begins her first steps down the stairs while admiring the room around her, mouth left completely agape. There are small lanterns scattered throughout the library, providing a warm, orange light that contrasts softly with the pleasant blues of the windows and high ceiling. Statues, no doubt of historical human figures, surround the comparatively small ponies that traipse through these ancient halls.

“Impressive, is it not?” Celestia asks. Before she can manage a response, Twilight does a slow spin around, looking high above herself to only just now realize the dome ceiling had been painting with glowing, detailed depictions of the stars and planets.

“It’s… Incredible…” Celestia simply smiles, remaining quiet while her star pupil becomes overjoyed. “I mean—there must be… tens of thousands of books in here!”

“Hundreds of thousands, actually.” Corrects Celestia.

Twilight stares in amazement at her mentor, eyes glimmering with the eagerness to test that fact for herself. “Hundreds of thousands…” She murmurs.

“I’ve no doubt you can already imagine yourself delving into what knowledge is offered here, but—sadly, I must divert your attention one final time, Twilight Sparkle.” The young mare in question looks up with child-like heartbreak in her eyes, to which Celestia cannot help but chuckle lightly in response. “Please, do not misunderstand; you’ll have plenty of opportunities to visit these archives. But for today, there’s one last thing I’d like you to see.”

True to her word, Princess Celestia leads Twilight through the vast, silent chambers once more, right to an archway at the end of the main hall. If this were the Canterlot throne room, the two of them would be walking right past the thrones themselves.

The wild excitement Twilight carries with her gives way to confusion as the lights in the new room come on slowly. They focus on two objects exclusively: a large, black stone tablet with gold text inscribed upon it, and a peculiar blue crystal hovering above—and a small measure behind—the stone. The crystal is held in a strange pillar of light, foreign magic to Twilight, if it even is magic. Mist rolls around the floating object, and pours downward until it pools on the floor and gently spreads, dissipating before it can reach the mares’ hooves.

Twilight takes cautious steps forward, more attention drawn to the stone tablet as its details become clearer. “‘The Coalition of Earth… A Message to Our Successors…’” With her brow furrowed, Twilight pauses her narration and turns to look back at Celestia. “It’s in Ponish?”

“It’s their language. We merely adopted it.” Celestia calmly explains.

Twilight Sparkle turns her head back around so that she can read over the remaining text with eager eyes.

“For many, many years, mankind had remained the sole form of intelligent life on this planet. It is time for us to pass that torch onward.

Many of us have often fantasized about the possibility of creating life—a perfect machine to solve all of the universe’s problems. But in the end, it was decided, perfection is not what this universe needs. Just as we have been given the opportunity to succeed and fail at our own deliberation, we have decided that it is what’s right to allow the same for you. Not perfect; natural. You are free. As every living thing has ever deserved to be.

We have made mistakes. You will too; what’s important is that you learn from them. Do not toil over petty differences from one another as we have for so long, and never be fearful of new ideas. Take the knowledge and stories we have provided you with, and do with them what you please.

This is your time, now. You owe us nothing.”

Once finished reading, the young princess shakes her head slowly, and continues to simply stare onward at the ancient text. “...They sound… remorseful…”

Celestia draws her attention to the back of Twilight’s neck. “They certainly had things to be remorseful of.”

“They were gods…” Twilight spins around now, so that she can speak to the elder alicorn directly. “They created us, they created… life. Is that not what…?”

“I’m surprised to hear you say that, Twilight Sparkle. Having seen your research, I mean.”

There’s a quiet scoff from Twilight. “My research didn’t account for any of this.” She turns once more, gazing at the mysterious black obelisk. “Whatever their origins, they elevated themselves with the creation of living, sentient beings…” Her eyes drift down beneath the eligible portion of text, to the paragraphs of characters below it that Twilight doesn’t recognize. “I mean, ponies are going to worship these creatures! They’ll pray to them, doubt their existence…” As she drifts off, the princess turns her head far enough back around so that Celestia can see her profile. “...they’ll fear them.”

“Perhaps it’s more obvious to you now why this was kept secret.” Princess Celestia is quick to respond.

Twilight’s expression grows gravely serious. “None of that changes the facts. I think I deserve to know about stuff like this, they—” She prods a hoof out into the open air. “—deserve to know about this. I mean, haven’t I done enough to prove to you that you can trust me?”

“I’ve told you, I have—”

“You haven’t shown me.” Twilight quickly interjects. Now holding Celestia’s attention firmly, she looks around the foreign chambers while continuing. “Would I have known about any of this… if I didn’t have that dream?”

Celestia’s gaze tightens. “In time.” She stares unflinchingly at the other mare, before nodding slowly. “Yes, I would have showed you.”

Twilight hangs her head and sighs. “I’m sorry.” She looks sheepishly up at her mentor, apologetic eyes behind her dark purple bangs. “I don’t mean to accuse you. It’s just—a lot to process…” She turns to face the crystal, floating on a bed of mist just beyond the obelisk. “Is that what’s holding the humans’ information?” She asks.

“Everything they left us.” Princess Celestia responds confidently. She watches the reflection of the crystal in young Twilight’s eyes, kneeling down close so that she can observe it with her. The only source of light in the room dangles right overtop the stone tablet and crystal, leaving whatever walls are outside of its glow to be swallowed by the outer darkness. The darkness is so great, and the light so direct, that the two mares seem to stand alone on a floating platform in the room, backs turned to the surrounding void.

Celestia glances over at Twilight, who appears to still be entranced by the ancient relic before them. The elder alicorn smiles a little, before expanded a wing to gently cover Twilight’s back. “You know, it was no accident that I chose you as my star pupil.” The warm comment is finally enough to draw Twilight’s eyes away, and instead focus them on the mare next to her. “I knew from the very beginning that you would grow to accomplish many things. Your pursuit of discovery is unmatched, and the care and guidance you’ve given to each of your friends has proven to me that you have what it takes to be a great leader.”

The ethereal hum of the crystal’s light is drowned out for Princess Twilight, as her mentor lowers herself further, and speaks nearly muzzle-to-muzzle with her. “I know things have been hard. And undoubtedly, this—” Celestia points a hoof to the obelisk. “—will make things harder. But it is also destiny; this is our destiny… and I want you right by my side as we face it. As The Element of Magic, as The Princess of Friendship—as a leader.”

Twilight’s attentive eyes stay locked on Celestia, as she rests an ivory hoof right against Twilight’s. “...I have never once lost faith in you, Twilight Sparkle. I ask now… will you keep your faith in me?”

Twilight Sparkle stares into her mentor’s iridescent, magenta eyes, a warm and caring smile still resting below them. Twilight looks down at their hooves before responding, long ivory leg extending out to touch her own forehoof. She glances back up to meet Celestia’s gaze, and nods slowly. “...Of course.”

The soft wing cover over Twilight finally releases, as the two turn to embrace one another in a hug. Twilight holds her forelegs snugly around Celestia’s chest, the Princess of the Sun craning her neck over and across Twilight’s shoulders. Princess Twilight closes her eyes, and listens to the strange hum of the artifact next to them.

* * *

A heavy sigh preludes the young alicorn’s return to consciousness. Her eyelids peel back slowly, head spinning as she groggily inspects her surroundings.

“Don’t push yourself too hard,” A male voice to Twilight’s side calls out. “you’re probably still gonna be a little sore.”

Twilight winces, dragging herself up in her seat despite the immense sense of weight. “Where am I?” She asks in a labored voice.

The diamond dog to her left looks over. “South of Ponyville. Get settled in, we’re going to be out here for a while.”

Finally regaining clear vision, Twilight props herself up against the door behind her as she scowls at the creature across from her. “Who are you?” She asks.

The diamond dog turns once more toward the young princess, quickly scanning over her condition, then facing ahead again. “My name is Cave.”

Twilight starts to finally look away from the creature’s scarred face, and instead inspect her surroundings. The first thing that draws her eye is a small metal object—the grip of a revolver, by the look of it—nestled under the diamond dog’s chair and sticking out between his legs. Twilight’s eyes next follow along the seat itself, shaped in a manner she’d never seen used for carriages. Similarly, the dry landscape passing by in the surrounding windows seems to slip away at a speed much faster than she’d ever been used to, and after finally pulling herself up all the way in her seat, it becomes clear to Twilight that there are no ponies at all pulling the vehicle.

“This is… man-made...” She utters slowly.

Cave keeps his eyes on the land ahead of them while responding. “Well, this one isn’t… but it is their design.”

Twilight winces suddenly, hoof shooting out to rest against her horn. There she can feel the shape of a strange band—two actually, as she starts to feel higher up the bone.

“I’m sorry, Princess. You won’t be able to use your magic for a while.”

The mare on the other side of the car ceases her prodding for a moment, eyes again honing in on the silver grip under the seat. “...Are you going to kill me?” She asks.

Cave looks over, follows the pony’s eyes and then looks back up to the path ahead after noticing the gun. “That would be a tremendous waste.”

Twilight’s chest heaves as she inhales sharply. She glances back behind the seats, noticing a stockpile of rattling jugs. Some are filled with water, most are filled with a very dark liquid. “Then where are you taking me?”

Cave begins to rub his thumb against the wheel he keeps a steady grip on it. “I’m not entirely sure telling you will do any good, nor do you have any reason to even believe me.” The bound alicorn huffs lightly while resting back into her seat. “...But you should know—you’re apart of something big, Princess Twilight. I needed to intervene before Canterlot and Celestia had sunk their hooks too far in you.”

“What does Celestia have to do with this?” Twilight retorts, with narrowed eyes.

There’s another look shared between the two of them, before Cave quickly breaks away and once again stares ahead. “She was your mentor, correct? She was the one that brought you to Ponyville? ...She’s been grooming you for almost your entire life, now—”

“—It wasn’t grooming. She was there for guidance, nothing more.”

“My point is, Celestia is a mare who’s never done anything she hadn’t planned for.” The diamond dog glances up to the small mirror above them before continuing. “She’s a schemer and a liar—” He claims with a growling tone. “—and that much I can prove to you…”

Twilight Sparkle’s breathing increases only just noticeably, and her wings strain against their makeshift binds. She pivots her head around to finally watch the land ahead of them, and the bleak, vacant desert on the horizon suddenly seems to sprawl beyond imagining.

Down in the Valley

Author's Note

Chapter Eight Recap:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/16plAWlf3rLJLuHnkYNFPLwsXQyXjI_eqcBGm6m6foT0/edit?usp=sharing

Down in the Valley

The desert air stings as Twilight looks over its great, barren expanse. A single cloud creeps along in the distance, merciless in the wide space it keeps between Twilight and the horizon. There would be no shade today. Just as there hadn’t been the day before.

Princess Twilight’s eyes drift below the cloud, to the jagged rocks drawn in a distant haze, and to the dusty wastes under her hooves. Miles of dry, flat, and cracked earth lay out before her. She hazards a small glance over her shoulder, at the vehicle behind her—and the creature leaning against it. He faces away from her, with his arms crossed and his muzzle to the horizon.

She turns around again, and her gaze tightens on those distant rocks.

“I’m not going to shoot you if you attempt to run.” The diamond dog casually comments. “Though I wouldn’t recommend it. The desert isn’t kind to thirsty, wingless mares.”

Twilight’s ears remain perked as she listens to what the creature has to say, but she doesn’t turn around again. Instead, she reaches for the roll of toilet paper sitting on the ground next to her, clumsily unravelling a section with her forehooves. With her horn bound by a pair of hot pink straps, it would take her some time yet to get used to functioning without magic.

“What am I supposed to do with the paper?” She asks, finishing her wipe.

“Just leave it.” Cave responds.

Twilight develops a bit of a cross expression. “I’m not just going to leave trash out here…”

Cave scoffs. “It’s biodegradable Princess, I promise.”

“And I’m supposed to trust you?”

“The packaging’s in the car, I’m sure you’ve seen it.” Before he’s satisfied with his own explanation, another thought crosses Cave’s mind. “Besides, can’t you tell back there?”

An unamused frown rests along Twilight’s muzzle. Even so, she turns to scrape at the ground with one hoof, digging up just enough space to plant the used toilet paper in the dirt, and covering it with the loose top soil.

As Cave hears the hoofsteps of the mare approach the car once more, he turns around and nods at her. “You ready?”

Twilight approaches with the roll, acknowledging Cave with a tone as dry as the dirt beneath them. “I need to wash my hooves.” She says.

“We should really be conserving the clean water for emergencies. If this thing dies out here…” He pats the top of the vehicle. “...I probably won’t know how to fix it, and there’s no town for miles around.”

Remaining silent, Twilight’s annoyed expression only grows more severe.

Cave sighs as he leans in toward the car. “...Okay. Come here.” He says, opening the door so that he can reach into the back pile of supplies. Twilight watches closely as he does so, eyes narrowing after the creature’s rummaging reveals part of what appears to be a gas mask underneath the pile.

“Here,” He says, placing a metal pot down onto the ground and opening a large glass jug over it. He sparingly fills the pot, just so the water rises a couple of inches, then returns to the vehicle. As he comes back again, Twilight is standing over the pot and looking disparagingly at its meager contents. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Cave, who holds out a bar of soap for the mare and shakes his head with a bit of an annoyed grimace himself. “Just… make do.” He says.

Not long after their minor squabble, the two end up on the open road again. Cave keeps one paw on the steering wheel as the other scratches at the gray stubble around his chin. He allows two fingers to slide over the pink scars running down his face, confident now that he would never be whole again.

All the while, Twilight stares apathetically through the clear vinyl window on her side of the car, watching Equestria slowly pass by her. She sighs quietly as she shifts in her seat, reaching a hoof back to the binding around her wings.

“I’m sorry about all of the… safety measures.” Cave says, as if on cue. He looks specifically at the bonds on the young alicorn’s horn—pink faux leather straps, with little gold locks dangling from them. “Especially the…” Twilight looks back just in time to see Cave gesture to his forehead. “...you’d be surprised how hard it is to find something to bind unicorns with for… non fetish reasons…” The diamond dog says this with an odd little feature on his face that one might call a smile, if they’re being generous enough. Twilight simply turns back away.

Failing casual conversation, Cave allows his paw to fall helplessly back onto a long metal apparatus between their seats. “Look…” He begins, glancing at the pony leaning away from him. “I already told you, I have no interest in harming you, Princess. I just need to make sure—”

“Stop calling me that.” Twilight suddenly declares.

Cave trades a few quick glances between the violet mare and the desert out before him. “Okay… ‘Twilight’, then?”

There’s no response from the pony with her back turned.

“Okay, Twilight. All I meant to say is that you are the last hope for a decent, honest rule up at Canterlot; the last mare to still not be entirely corrupted by Celestia.” The passing desert is reflected in Twilight’s tired eyes as she hears the creature out. “Once I show you what I brought you out here for, then I promise: you’ll be free to go.”

A small coughing fit suddenly sends Cave’s fist up to his mouth, turning his head as he works through it. Having recovered shortly after, he finishes his sentiment. “After that… I can only hope that you’ll make the right choices.”

Twilight breaths in while her eyelids blink slowly, the alicorn content with simply staring out the window. “...For all our sakes.” Cave quietly adds from behind her.

* * *

Lyra keeps her hooves down on the closed book resting in her lap, as the patient next to her unfurls another gum wrapper. She pops the chewing gum in her mouth, then crumples and tosses the empty wrapper into a pile on her desk. Dr. Heartstrings can’t help but watch as she does, the unicorn’s brow lowered in disdain at the small distraction. Chewing the gum softly, Moon Dust ignores her temporary roommate’s scorn, and takes a short glance at the thick bandaging around her hoof. She only ever pauses her chewing to clutch a pencil in between her teeth, and hastily scribble some notes down on her pad.

Lyra suddenly turns to the pony on her other side, an orange earth pony waiting patiently in a stool. She speaks to Applejack in a dry tone. “Yes, she’s always like this.”

A.J.’s mane is frayed and dark bags rest under her eyes. She regards the mare closest to her first with a simple nod, then her tired eyes scan over slowly to Moon Dust. She watches as the bitter pegasus flaps through pages of her notes, and stress-chews her gum with growing ferocity.

Before another word is shared between the three of them, a familiar rainbow colored mane appears in the small window on the door. All eyes look up as the captain stomps into the room. The cyan pegasus takes one look at the room’s occupants, then locks onto the mare in the bed across from her. “What happened?” She says with a snarl.

Lyra almost immediately occupies herself by levitating a mirror in front of her face, and privately inspecting the bruises on her lip and around her eye. Moon Dust drops the notepad into her lap while her expression remains lifeless. “Ran into our friends, The Equestrians. Things went south.”

“Well did you learn anything?” Rainbow Dash inquires with a sharp tone, taking a step closer to the bed.

The pegasus on the receiving end doesn’t budge a muscle in her face nor her body. “They weren’t there for Princess Twilight.”

Dash’s slow walk forward continues. “And how do you know that? Did you get to one of them?”

“...They were a little too preoccupied with attempting to kill me for us to have a chat. They’re all dead.”

Applejack suddenly stirs from her seat on the back wall. “Dash, come on. Why do ya think I’m here?” She stands up straight on all four hooves. “I’ve already talked with her ‘bout this. Take it easy.” She pleads, as Lyra pulls the mirror a little closer to her muzzle.

Rainbow Dash spares a moment to stare daggers at her friend, then shoots them back at the pony of interest. “So you’re telling me you couldn’t pull out of your bloodlust for the two fucking minutes it would’ve taken you to shake those guys down for more info?”

Despite the metal hair stick in her mane being long gone, Moon Dust can’t help but flex her wing toward where it’s usually holstered. “The mere fact that you’ve come here tells me everything about how much you’ve uncovered concerning her disappearance...” She shoots an equally sharp glare at Dash, muscles finally tensing as the pegasus draws nearer. “...and from where I’m standing, it seems like Princess Twilight has a whole lot more to be disappointed in from the failings of her supposed ‘best friend’…”

Rainbow lunges forward just as an orange foreleg is thrown around her neck. She fights against her constraints as A.J. stands strong, pushing her weight into a battle her superior strength had already won. “That’s enough!” She huffs, holding out until Rainbow finally gives in, and pushes back away from Applejack. The farm pony’s disheveled blonde mane falls over her eyes in clumps, as she stares at the two on either side of her. “Now tell me how any of that is gonna save Twilight? Huh?”

Dash leans in closer to A.J., growling her accusation like a dog. “You’re siding with a psychopath…”

The venom in Rainbow’s eyes doesn’t dissuade Applejack, who responds with a firm and even tone. “I am siding—with reason.” She says.

Rainbow Dash’s mouth twitches, but she doesn’t respond. Instead, she lets an angry scoff do all the responding for her, before whipping her head and mane back around. She marches back through the door without another word, leaving it to swing open to the busy hall outside.

Applejack doesn’t do a thing to stop her from going. Once Rainbow is gone, she hangs her head and sighs, walking slowly up to the door. She pulls it closed with a hoof, and returns some privacy to the small room.

Lyra peaks around her mirror as A.J. heads back to her seat with a defeated expression. “I’m sorry, I should’ve left—”

“It’s alright.” Applejack quickly forgives. “From what I hear, you’n’ Twilight are pretty close.” She nods as she finally settles back into her stool. “You deserve to know everything.”

Dr. Heartstrings stares down at the rumpled sheets on the bed, then back to the face of the tired mare before her. She smiles without another word, a small token of thanks and understanding.

It’s shortly after that, that A.J. looks up to the other mare in the room. “Okay.” She starts, shaking her head gently. “So, forget about the restaurant. You didn’t find anything else at Twilight’s place?”

Moon Dust begins to angrily tear the wrapper off of a new stick of gum before responding. “It’s like I said:” She pauses very briefly, tossing the new gum in her mouth. “no blood, no sign of forced entry. Nothing. Nothing but some… dirt in the carpet.”

Applejack leans in with curiosity. “Dirt—like what, dirty hoofprints?” She asks. Moon Dust can’t help but titter, possibly marking the moment she had closest ever come to laughing.

“No.” She says plainly. “Like dirt.”

Another long sigh from A.J., who slowly leans back into her seat, and raises a forehoof to her temple. “...Alright.” She begins, with her eyes closed and her lips laid out flat with a frown. “Well listen, Pinkie Pie’s got a sister that has some kind’ve obsession with rocks… if there’s anything at all to know about your pile of dirt, she’s the pony to know it.”

“I never said ‘pile’—” Moon is quick to amend. “—but sure, if you wanna have a look at our dirt crumbs, I can have that arranged.” She responds without looking up from her notes.

There’s a final and short sigh from Applejack. “Great.” She says, hanging her head once more, and beginning to idly prod at the stitching on the stool beneath her. “I’ve been meanin’ to talk to Pinkie anyway, regarding a little family issue...”

Lyra finally jumps back into the conversation with eyes wide with concern—and likely a fair deal of curiosity. “Aw, I hope everything’s alright?”

The earth pony looks up just long enough to notice Lyra’s worry, then returns to her task of outlining the seat’s stitching with a forehoof. “Everything’s fine...” She says. Words that are not likely easy for the element of honesty to respond with.

* * *

Cave grunts as he lifts up one of the large glass jugs filled with a dark liquid, paw clutching a funnel close. He places the small end of the funnel into a hole nestled between the door and rear wheel, resting it there so that he can pour the liquid inside. As he begins to do so, the fluid sloshing around the car’s internal parts can be heard echoing up and out into the wind.

Cave glances over at the pony still inside. Like all she had yet done on this trip, her motionless body rests against the frame of the car as she silently watches the sky. Cave’s eyes linger over her a while longer.

“...What were you staring at, back in your bedroom?” He asks. “The green flame; what was that?”

The alicorn princess keeps her back turned, and her mouth shut.

Cave chuckles quietly to himself. “I get it. I imagine that’s a very personal story, and it doesn’t make much sense telling it to a total stranger.” The dark liquid begins to taper off, and Cave lowers the jug for a moment. “I can help that, you know. I can tell you anything you want to know about me, if you like?”

“I wouldn’t.” Twilight surprises herself with how quickly she fires back. Shortly after, she allows her head to fall into her forelegs, and a frustrated sigh to escape her lips. “I’m sorry—” She begins, turning her profile just far enough for Cave to see. “—and I don’t even know why I’m sorry, you’ve literally abducted me and dragged me out into the desert!” A hoof she had subconsciously thrown into the air during her explanation comes sailing back down to land on the interior furniture. “But I’m sorry anyway.”

Around the same time that Twilight concludes her confused apology, Cave is finishing his business with the vehicle. He seals the hole with a round cap, and begins patting his dirty paws together. “I imagine that’s your unconditional kindness. Probably have quite a bit of that owed to your friends in Ponyville, no?” He asks, as he tosses the funnel in the back.

“...I have a lot owed to my friends...” Twilight mumbles under her breath.

As he starts to collect the supplies he’d left out on the desert ground, Cave begins to have a particularly painful sounding coughing fit. After putting the empty jug back behind the front seats, he reaches out to brace himself against the body of the car, keeping his head aimed low as he works through it. Twilight looks back at him just in time to see him recover, and his anguished expression turn to one of peril.

“...Shit…” He murmurs, eyes fixated on the distant horizon. Twilight spins back around to investigate as Cave works double time to pack the car.

“What?” The princess asks, squinting at the dusty horizon. It doesn’t take long for her to find the source of concern—a covered wagon rides toward them, the pluming trail of dirt it leaves behind unmistakable.

Twilight breathes a shaky sigh of relief as Cave throws the last of the equipment in the back. “Hey…” She calls out weakly, forehoof lifting to the door handle. She struggles with it for a bit before popping the latch and pushing it open, eager to make herself seen. “HEY!” Cave’s head snaps to the side, and he lunges across the seats. “HEY, OVER HE—”

Dirty paws grab a hold of the young alicorn, so that their owner can yank her back into the vehicle. Her forehooves fly up to grapple with Cave’s arm, who keeps an unwavering grip of her. “Shhh—listen! Listen to me!” He hisses. “I told you that I wouldn’t hurt you, and that’s still true, but—” One of Twilight’s screams is muffled as he starts to wrap tape around her mouth. “—I will not hesitate to bury some Good Samaritans out here in the desert. Do you understand me?”

Twilight’s bleary wide eyes look up at her captor as her body shakes, and her protesting is reduced to a muffled whimpering. Cave finishes another round of tape, then tears off the excess and stares down with the cold-hearted look of a predator. “Keep your head down, don’t talk. No one needs to die.”

With his verdict delivered, Cave quickly shuffles back into the driver’s seat, and puts his paw on a key protruding out from behind the wheel. Twilight watches with panicked breaths as he turns the key and waits for the engine to engage. For a moment, it sounds like it’s trying—only to sputter out and go silent once more.

“Fucking thing—” Cave growls, pushing his hindpaws down onto two of the three pedals on the floor, and fidgeting with the long metal apparatus in between the seats. The covered wagon outside couldn’t be more than a hundred yards away, as he snaps the rod into a different position. Cave turns the key again, and faces the same frustrating result.

“Fuck!” He screams, gripping the wheel tight and looking out at their visitors. A stallion—earth pony by the looks of it—pulls the wagon to a stop not far from the car, a curious expression dressed on his face.

Cave stares down below the dusty window, to where Twilight still whimpers in fear. He acknowledges her with a subtle nod. “Remember what I said…”

Petrified, Twilight watches as Cave turns away calmly, and pulls the small silver gun out from under his seat. He holds it down low as he exits the vehicle, careful to keep his body turned to block the view of it.

The dark brown stallion pulling the wagon wipes his brow as he watches Cave maneuver around his car. “How ya doing there, friend?” He asks with a toothy smile. “Ya lost?”

Cave takes careful, measured steps forward. He looks around the scene before him, quickly gauging the distance between him and his car, and him and his new ‘guest’. “Uh—no, you uh… I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you what I’m doing out here.”

The stallion at the head of the wagon laughs a breathy laugh, like dust had filtered in and out his lungs his whole life. Going by his scraggly appearance, it probably had. “Try me, friend.”

Cave continues to scan the area around them, responding with eyes unable to settle. “Uh, well; long story short... I got into it with the missus again, thinking: ‘another night out on the couch, that won’t be so bad!’”

The older earth pony cackles once more, adjusting the brim of his straw hat. “Oooh, I think I know where this’n’s going...”

“Right,” Cave joins in with a small laugh of his own, careful not to gesture with the arm still down at his side. “well I guess she also figured out our couch isn’t too bad, because—boy she got creative this time.”

Listening intently, the stallion begins to unhinge the reins from his back strap. He comes in a little closer with a curious smirk on his muzzle, leading Cave to take a cautious step back. “Yeah s-she uh, gathered up all my college baseball trophies, and I quote: “buried them out there in some Celestia-forsaken stretch of that desert!’”

The two share a gleeful chortle with one another, Cave’s eyes shifting back to the empty window of the car for just a moment.

“Now, you’ve really gone and done it!” The stallion says playfully. He reaches up with a forehoof to adjust his hat from the back, then makes quite a loud and guttural sound clearing his throat. “Well, I’ll tell you what: I can help ya dig if you’ve gotta spot in mind?”

Cave strafes along the dirt as the pony moves a little close to the car. “Well, I appreciate that—but, you know, us diamond dogs are pretty good diggers!”

“What kind’ve carriage are you driving here?” The stallion asks, moving closer to the vehicle and forcing Cave to strafe further along to keep his back hidden.

“Stop!” Cave suddenly shouts. The pony does as he’s told, but stares back at Cave with a growing look of suspicion. “Just—trust me, you don’t wanna be involved...” There’s a slight tremor in the paw that clutches the grip of the gun. Neither creature moves for a moment, as all the playfulness and niceties Cave had engaged in vanish instantly—and a cold-blooded stare and a lowered brow are all that replace them.

Neither one budges—but a third stirs in the covered wagon. She pulls the canopy back with a foreleg, and takes one glance at the scene before her eyes go wide with shock. “Celestia’s sake Copper, he’s got a gun!”

Now positioned between the two ponies, Cave’s head rockets back to the stallion, and his right arm finally raises. “Don’t move.” The silver barrel gleams out in the open sunlight, and the earth pony stallion gets a direct look down it.

“Take it easy…” The stallion says, hindleg lowering back into the dirt. His travelling partner in the wagon begins to cry out behind the two of them.

“He killed his wife, Copper! He killed her and now he’s out here burying the poor girl!”

The stallion leans his head around Cave to briefly converse with the other pony. “Butter Cream, I’m gonna need you to just hush up for a moment, alright?”

Cave finally begins to walk toward the earth pony. “Step away from the car.” He commands.

“Listen pal,” Copper says, taking a small step back. “Ah think we’ve had a little miscommunication, here...”

Cave waves the gun to the side, a glint of the barrel’s steel flashing in the earth pony’s eyes. “Step away from the car.” He repeats, teeth showing in his snarl.

“The—what now?” Copper glances over his shoulder at the Jeep in question, still backpedaling slowly.

“The CARRIAGE then!” Cave shouts. “STAY AWAY FROM THE FUCKING CARRIAGE!”

The earth pony’s journey backwards doesn’t stop, and in fact he finds himself standing almost close enough to touch the unfamiliar machine. A flash of violet through the window catches his eye, and he leans his head back far enough until he can see a most distressing scene: Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship, bound and sobbing in the seat under the window.

Copper’s lips part slowly as the words fumble through. “...Just what the hell—”

His inquisition is suddenly cut short, as Cave lunges forward and pushes him against the frame of the vehicle. He puts the hot tip of the gun’s barrel against the back of his neck, and leans in close so that he can growl in the pony’s ear: “I warned you.”

Twilight’s eyes go wide as she sees Cave cock the hammer back, and the cylinder of the revolver rotate before her. Her muffled cries go unanswered from behind the tape, and she shakes her head desperately in some vain attempt to save him. But Cave had already made his decision.

The flash of an old metal spade suddenly whips across the back of Cave’s head. The impact hits with a resounding smack, and the creature topples over before even knowing what happened to him.

Copper looks at the diamond dog knocked out in the dirt, the gun laid out in front of his paw. Then in shock, he looks up at the mare standing where Cave once stood, Butter Cream—with the wooden handle of a spade in her maw.

“My goodness, Butter Cream... “ The stallion utters. “...Get the rope out the back!” He points a forehoof to the covered wagon, before stepping toward Cave’s unconscious body. The mare drops the spade out of her mouth, and hurries along with an energetic nod of approval.

The silver revolver slides along the dirty desert ground, after a good kick from Copper. He canters over to the car door next, and regards the alicorn inside with a respectful removal of his headwear. “Jus’ hang tight one second there, your highness! We’ll get ya out of this!”

* * *

Two pegasi stallions sit at a small table with one another, enjoying a cold drink while occasionally snacking on the carrots in between them. All around, other ponies gleefully share similarly relaxed snacks and discussion, as light floods in from the packed cobblestone streets outside.

“...All I’m saying is,” One of the stallions says, apparently already in the middle of something. “I’m a practical guy, right? Never in a million years would I have picked up and used one of these pillows, assuming I had even noticed the damn thing. But now all of the sudden, she’s gone, and the pillows have seemed to go with her.” The stallion takes a quick bite of a carrot before lightly prodding his hoof down on the table, making sure to maintain attention from his cohort. “That—I notice. You know? Every time I see the damn bed, I notice it.”

The pegasus on the opposite end of the table, sporting a light green coat and a violet mane, starts to chuckle to himself before responding. “...You know, I can come over and toss some throw pillows onto your bed, if you want.”

“No, I don’t even like them up there! They just waste space and I end up kicking them off anyway, that’s not the point!” He scoots his stool a little closer to the table as he gets more excited. “I’m just saying, she has like—some kind of system with it, and now that that system is broken, every time I look at the bed it looks ‘off’.” Even as he continues, the other stallion stops the cup he had nearly brought to his muzzle, and his cheerful expression gives way to one of disbelief. “I can’t not notice this every time I come home from work, and it’s—”

“Hey.” The green stallion interjects. “Hey, isn’t that our guy?”

The pegasus who had been telling the story pauses immediately, and follows his friend’s pointing hoof to the large window facing the street behind him. Past the crowds of formally dressed ponies going about their days, he finds an older red unicorn with a scraggly white beard, who stands alone at the front door of a house across the street. In an apparent discussion with somepony, the mare he’d been talking to eventually rushes out to greet him with a tear stricken hug.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me...” One of the stallions mutters under his breath. The green one who had first noticed the unicorn pushes his stool away from the table, and refers to his cohort while marching toward the door. “Let Captain Dash know!”

The eyes of the stallion still seated dart over to his partner making his way out into the street, then quickly return to stare in disbelief at the scene.

* * *

A trio of ponies watch quietly from behind the office glass. Beyond it, the red unicorn who’d been spotted in the street now finds himself in a lengthy discussion with an officer at the front desk—occasionally with the unicorn’s wife as well, who grows more distressed by the minute.

“Well, Captain.” One of the mares behind the glass finally says. “Not how you imagined you’d be capturing the leader of The Equestrians, is it?”

Rainbow Dash shakes her head. She responds to the somewhat rhetorical question without peeling her narrowed eyes away. “So Aegis just fucks off to the North Pole for however many months, and now he thinks he can just come back and play dumb? After everything his little cult’s done?”

The officer at the front desk is joined by another, who places a hoof on Aegis's shoulder and points him toward the back. He follows all instructions, and goes through the process with surprising calmness and professionalism.

“He says he was camping at Smokey Mountains…”

“For eight months?” Dash nearly barks. The mare on her right simply shrugs.

“Apparently he’s got kind of a history with long camping trips. His wife showed us a photo album, he’s been to almost all the parks—”

“It’s bullshit.” Rainbow Dash growls, disinterested in an explanation. “He knows being far away from Canterlot during the attacks works in his defense, that’s all there is to it.”

The green pegasus who’d brought Aegis in shifts his glance awkwardly between the ponies next to him, as Rainbow’s temper starts to reveal itself.

“Captain—” The mare on her right says. “—we don’t have anything on him...”

“And what happened at the museum, you think that was done without his lead? And the restaurant?” Dash fumes, as she watches Aegis finally walk out of sight with an officer. “For Celestia’s sake, the senator? You really believe this ‘helpless old stallion’ act?”

Not interested in furthering the argument, the mare standing next to Dash sighs and hangs her head. “...I’m not saying I believe him.” She murmurs. “I’m saying I’m not sure this is a fight we can win.”

Rainbow Dash scoffs, finally looking away from the glass in disgust. “That stallion is a murderer.” Her tail flicks as she begins to head slowly back to her office. She turns her profile to face back over her shoulder on her way out, delivering one final sentiment loudly enough for the rest of the crew to hear. “And he should be tried as one!”

* * *

As day fades to dusk, Princess Twilight and her newfound acquaintances find themselves sitting around the dinner table, white tablecloth laid out, and all manner of homemade foods on top. The dining room is a bit cramped, and its age is evidenced in the faded wallpaper and slight ticking noise coming from the fan above—but its occupants find comfort in it nonetheless. Notably so, if you’re the princess, who stretches her legs and wings after finally having the freedom to do so.

Butter Cream makes a quick trip to the kitchen to bring out a final piece of the ensemble: a ceramic dish with a steaming hot pie in it. She leans over the table with it dangling below her mouth, lowering her head slowly until the platform she carried it in on rests against the tabletop. She tosses the thin rope straps bound to the corners of the platform to the side, careful not to let them fling into the pie. All the while, Copper hums in anticipation from his spot at the head of the table. A wandering forehoof finds its way near the edge of the pie platter, before Butter Cream slaps it away.

“Quit it!” She bites. “Now I know you know it’s not ready to cut yet! Eat your dinner!”

Copper playfully recoils his hoof as if it was actually wounded. “Oh, Butter, I just don’t know why you have to tease us like that, is all.” He says, smirking mischievously at Twilight.

“This is all prepared from your garden, Mrs. Cream?” Twilight asks, head turning to look at the entrance to the greenhouse.

“That’s right!” She responds cheerfully. Standing behind him, she places a foreleg over Copper’s shoulder before continuing her story. “When I married ol’ Copper Mills here, and he had told me time and time again about how his great-grandpappy had stubbornly pitched his flag on this dusty old valley, I knew I’d never be convincing him to leave it...”

“You’d best believe that.” Copper interjects, before lifting a bowl of soup to his muzzle.

Butter Cream rolls her eyes and continues. “But I also knew that that didn’t need to be the end of it. Land’s a little rough out here, but if you’re good to it, it will reward you with a bounty most plentiful...” She punctuates her explanation with her free leg gesturing over the food laid out before the ponies. Bowls of hot tomato soup, grilled sandwiches with a white cheese and cut neatly into small squares—and of course, almost glistening under the light in the center of the table...

“And I ain’t never had any grievances with a garden that provides such sweet cherry pie!” Copper admits with a toothy smile. Butter Cream sighs as she lets her husband go, circling around the table to find her spot at it, right across from Twilight. She smiles sweetly at the young alicorn, adjusting the bowl before her while the fan tousles her curly white mane. It’s a while before Princess Twilight notices, but as she does she finds herself preoccupied by the sandwich she now chews, smiling sheepishly (and crookedly) in return.

“...I’m sorry, Princess Twilight. But we’re a ways out from the nearest train station.” The alicorn in question hurries to swallow her food, wanting to be able to respond in a respectful manner. “I think it’d be best if we wait ‘till morning.”

Having finally finished her bite, Twilight’s eyes dart around the table as her thoughts are next to be chewed. “...Well, I suppose if it’s too much trouble...”

“There’s a spare room upstairs, I can get you fresh sheets and towels,” Mrs. Cream is quick to assure Twilight. “you can have yourself a cool bath and a good night’s rest. After all you’ve been through—I imagine you’ve earned it.”

The sound of the old fan clicking softly can be heard as Twilight nods slowly. “That sounds nice. Thank you.”

The three ponies resume their dinner in a moment of silence. Twilight’s movements grow slow, and her chewing is reduced to absentminded nibbling as she stares down at the thick red soup. When her face rises up again, it’s no longer graced with a smile. “...What’s going to happen to him? ...To Cave?”

Butter Cream takes her time finishing her bite, glancing toward her husband, and then shrugging her shoulders. “...Well, what would you have done to him?”

Twilight’s eyes narrow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You’re one of the rulers of Equestria! It’s not unreasonable to think you’ll have some say in his punishment, is it?”

This notion gives pause to Twilight. “...I don’t know, I—” She says quietly. “—I haven’t thought of it that way...”

A lull once again ensues in the conversation, the princess hanging her head idly over her soup that grows colder by the minute. It was true—now that she’d been saved, Cave’s life was effectively in the young alicorn’s hooves. It’s a heavy sentiment that was now intruding on an otherwise unremarkable evening.

“Well, now that I’ve finished my sandwich...” Copper suddenly announces, pushing his chair back and reaching a hoof toward the pie. Mrs. Cream forces out an annoyed sigh, standing up from her spot at the table.

“Oh, just—hang on a minute!” She says, retreating to the kitchen for the proper utensils.

As she walks along the linoleum floor, the boards underneath creak noisily, and a cascade of dust falls loose in the basement below. It rains down to the floor slowly, dissipating before it can reach the cold stone. The tired eyes of a creature in a dark corner of the room watch it abstractedly, for he’s in no position to do much else.

Cave needlessly tests the strength of the rope bindings around his wrists. They keep him frozen to the metal pipe behind his back, as they had since he’d arrived. The flesh on his wrists is raw with a pink hue, and when he reaches up with his fingers intent on clawing through, he finds his grimy nails to be just out of reach of the flayed rope. A large riveted lip in the pipe means his wrists can only slide down so far, and he’s forced to stand there in the dark, alone and helpless.

At the opposite end of the room, Cave sees a well lit corner with a table saw and some plywood boards standing up against it, though with absolutely no way to reach it. Along the right wall, and a bit closer to the prisoner is a table with a box of tools resting on top. Even with a desperate kick, however, the box would remain out of Cave’s reach.

Cave exhales a large sigh of the musty basement air, dropping his head toward the ground and covering it in shadow.

* * *

The little bell atop the door at Sugarcube Corner rings as a new patron enters its bright interior, unnoticed by the mare working the counter. She smiles wider than most ponies would even know how to, mane bouncing about as she speedily wraps a customer’s order. Once the transaction is completed, the earth pony leans over the counter and tosses the newly wrapped package squarely on her customer’s back, a feat of surprising dexterity and worrying recklessness—or it would be anyway, were it any other mare.

Applejack nods to the customer who leaves the shop with her newly purchased cake, and approaches the counter next. Her friend recognizes A.J. immediately, and excitedly places both of her pink forehooves on the countertop to lean forward and greet her. “Hey! I loooove your new—bag of dirt!” She exclaims.

Applejack tosses the bag in question out of her mouth and onto the countertop, talking over the occasional sound of boxes being moved about in the back room. “Uh… yeah, I was hopin’ you could help me with that, Pinkie.” She shakes her head and corrects herself. “Or I guess, I was hopin’ your sister could help with it. Help identify it, I mean.”

Pinkie Pie chortles to herself as she inspects the small plastic bag. “Oh Applejack, I don’t need Maud’s help to tell you what that is.” She prods the bag with a hoof. “It’s—”

“—dirt,” A.J. says at the same time as her friend, obviously quite used to her antics. “I know, Pinkie.” Like an excited foal, Pinkie sways her hips and shakes her tail behind the counter, eager to listen. “I was hopin’ she could tell me what kind of dirt it is.”

At this, Pinkie Pie sweeps the bag off of the counter in an instant, tossing it into an empty glass jar on a shelf next to her. “I’ll make sure she has a looksies!” She chirps.

“Jus’ be careful with it, okay? It could be important.” Cautions Applejack. Pinkie Pie stops dead in her tracks, staring at the other mare with wide eyes and a small ‘o’ shape frozen on her lips.

“Oh, well, then we don’t wanna store it in THAT jar—” She says, spinning the lid off, and dumping the bag into a seemingly identical jar next to it. A.J. watches with tired eyes as she does so, shaking her head once again and smirking weakly.

“Well… thanks, Pinkie. I appreciate it.”

The comment elicits an even wider grin from Pinkie, who bounces back into her original position and eagerly awaits further conversation. “I’m just honored that you would come all this way to give me your special dirt!” She exclaims in her bright, cheerful voice.

Applejack tilts her head forward ever so slightly as she catches a peek of the stallion in the back, who shoulders a large crate onto a metal dolly. “...Actually Pinkie, I have another favor to ask...” Her lips squirm as the tongue behind them rolls around, Applejack unsure of how to phrase the question. She nods ever so slightly at the stallion in the back. “...How’s the setup with the new bakery comin’? Ya got that all in order?”

“Oh!” Pinkie beams. “Absotoot-ly! I even thought of a name! I’ll call it...” All of the playfulness in her expression suddenly flushes out, and a slowly waved forehoof creates a dramatic introduction. “...’Sugarcube Corner… 2’…”

A.J. scoffs as her friend’s familiarly wide smile returns. “Ya can’t just name a bakery the name of another bakery with a ‘2’ on the end...”

“Ooon the con-traryyyy!” Pinkie Pie sings. “The Cakes have absolute faith in me!”

Suddenly, the stallion in the back pauses his work to wipe his brow and chime in. “And a financial agreement with regards to franchising...” He says in a decidedly less musical tone of voice.

Pinkie Pie whips her head back to the earth pony at the counter. “...Aaaaand—that!”

Applejack smiles and shakes her head. “It’s nice to see ya again, Mr. Cake. Keepin’ outta trouble?”

“Depends on who’s asking!” He quips back. “It’s nice to see you too, Applejack.”

The two exchange friendly smiles and nods, before Pinkie Pie butts back into the conversation. “What favor did you wanna ask me?” She inquires.

A.J. hangs her head and glances down at the glass display box beneath them. She focuses her eyes on one of the cakes inside—white with pink and blue frosting, ‘Happy Birthday’ written in dramatic and swirling fashion—while her lungs fill with an exhausted sigh. “...It’s Applebloom. Ya think you can give her a job?” Pinkie Pie leans back on the counter and opens her mouth to respond, but not before Applejack can rush to give more of an explanation. “Celestia knows, she’s not one much for buckin’ apple trees anymore, but she’s good with a hammer and saw. Ya give her anything you’ve got at your new bakery, anything at all—” She makes sure to look straight ahead, eyes sharp with sincerity. “—and I would be sincerely grateful.”

Pinkie’s mouth hangs open, as her smile slowly creeps back around its edges. “...Well sure, Applejack. We could use the extra hooves!”

A grin of her own sneaks up on A.J., who stares back down at the cakes and exhales. She taps twice on the top of the glass, glancing back up at her friend and displaying her relief. “Thanks, Pinkie. I mean it.”

The pastel mare behind the counter simply smiles and shrugs. “What are friends for?”

* * *

Cave’s anguished eyes stare up at the table near him. On top is a sagging cardboard box, filled so that the diamond dog can see a plethora of handles and tools sticking out of it. A hammer, a wrench—needle nose pliers. The box itself is well out of reach, but the closest table leg is just within range of an extended kick.

The claws of Cave’s hindpaw scrape up against the leg, as he takes several swipes at it. Each bump rattles the contents splayed out on top, and as the kicks become harder—and louder—the box of tools finds itself closer to the edge. A particularly desperate kick knocks a pencil off of the table, as the corner of the box hangs over the ground.

Cave pauses his work. Hoofsteps can be heard from above, and a familiar showering of dirt rains down from the floorboards. They draw a path headed to the basement door.

Cave slams his paw into the table leg, dropping a couple of nails off the top, and forcing the box to lean further out. One final kick is enough to bring the entire thing tumbling down, just as a visitor comes cantering down the steps.

Copper Mills looks over the stairwell banister, and shakes his head at the sight before him. He releases a sigh that stumbles into a whistle, on account of the small gaps in his crooked teeth. As Copper approaches, Cave simply stares. The first thing the pony is sure to do is swipe all of the spilled tools on the dirty floor back, far enough to be out of Cave’s reach once more. “Is’poseI expected you to try…” He says, as he begins to repackage the tools. “...But I wouldn’t push your luck, if I were you. Our hosp’tality does have its limits.”

The prisoner doesn’t make a sound. Only stares onward, a shadowy scowl resting on his face.

Copper Mills takes the time to throw back a few tools, taking mental check of the total. “You know, in my pa’s time, you wouldn’ta been seen in Equestria unless you was behind bars.” In a small bout of anger, he tosses the hammer back into the box with enough force to rattle the rest of the tools. “Now you folk are livin’ out among us—and this is the thanks we get? Runnin’ off with our princesses, and threatenin’ ponies at gunpoint?”

Still no response for Cave, who remains motionless.

Copper sighs as he starts collecting the last of the nails with his muzzle. Once all of the contents had been returned to the box, he doesn’t bother returning it to the table, and instead kicks it far enough away that there’d be no hope of Cave reaching it again. He dusts himself off with a shaggy forehoof, and turns once again to confront the prisoner. “Act like it’s the old days again, and we’ll treat you like it’s the old days… Ya here?”

The pony knows well enough to not wait for a response, and starts heading for the stairs instead. Cave watches as he stomps up the old wooden steps, listening to the creaks and moans that many years of stomping will bring out in a flight of stairs. Watching the long shadow cascading down them slip away, and the door being pushed so that only a thin length of kitchen light is left to pool at the bottom of the stairwell.

Unblinking, Cave observes this with slatted, searching pupils in the dark, until there’s nothing left to watch, and they’re allowed to fall toward the floor. His dirty paw lifts up off of the ground, and turns just enough for the pad underneath to be inspected. The pad, the toes—and the nail still nestled between them.

Cave’s chest heaves as a mostly suppressed cough moves through him. After, he wastes no time trying to get the nail from his back paws into the ones bound to the pipe. It’s not long until he’s reminded of the problem with that. A thick metal lip in the pipe restrains his wrists from sliding too far down, and he’s not limber enough to simply pass the small piece of metal from foot to paw.

Frustrated, he looks around the dark room as a curse is whispered under his breath. This time, there would be absolutely no outside help.

An idea comes to mind. He tests his own strength with a tightened, reverse hug of the pole. He tests the space above his wrists—no lip in the pipe. Then, he raises his shoulders as he lifts his arms up, making sure to keep them tight so that they’re bound to the metal. This is followed by his hind legs doing something similar, wrapping tightly around the pipe, and lifting his body up off of the ground. He grimaces under the sudden load, moving all four of his legs in a slow, caterpillar-like motion to climb higher on the pipe.

Once his hind legs rub against the familiar metal lip, he holds in place and navigates the nail—still clutched in his toes—up toward it. A bead of sweat makes its way down from his forehead as he navigates the situation, exhausting all of his energy to make sure the nail is placed carefully. Once it’s on the lip, he suppresses another cough, and begins his steady descent back down.

A series of heavy breaths is released once Cave’s back on the cold stone, and his arms remain canted upward. With his heart rate steadying, he slowly slides them down the metal, cautious not to knock the nail back to the floor. He feels it out with the tip of his claws, resting there on the flat lip, then slowly rolls it between his fingers. With it held snugly between his thumb and index finger, he points the nail back, and starts slowly tearing the rope apart—fiber by fiber.

* * *

Twilight’s eyes open slowly. The walls in the old house were thin, and it wasn’t difficult for her to recognize another coughing fit coming from the basement. She groggily lifts her head up from the pillow, and reaches out to the bedside desk, where an alarm clock rests. A small luminescent spark around her horn provides the necessary light, and squinted eyes can inspect the small hands behind the glass.

The clock rattles as Twilight’s hoof slides off of the desk, and the alicorn rolls onto her back. Her eyes were wider now, motionless as they stare up at the faded ceiling plaster.

Unable to get back to sleep, Princess Twilight finds herself walking slowly around the dark halls of the house, the warm light of a candle leading her to the bathroom. She enters without hesitation, pushing past the cracked door, and then using her magic to only swing it back to that original position, never closing it completely.

Inside the room is quite cramped, a shallow closet and a tub on her left, the toilet and sink ahead of and to the right of her, respectively. The tired mare navigates to the sink basin, and turns the only handle. She hangs there motionlessly as the faucet sputters to life, and an inconsistent drip begins to leak out. After a moment of struggling, a stream of water follows.

Twilight gets what she came for, wetting her hooves, and splashing a small amount of water on her face. Next she returns her forehooves to the sink, but instead simply allows the soles of her hooves to fill up. As this happens, she can’t help but notice a voice coming from somewhere near her—quiet as it may be, and unintelligible over the running water. She quickly brings up the drink she had collected in her hooves, and sips it down before trying to locate the source of the voice. A simple step back from the sink, and she finds it.

The voices emanate from an air duct on the floor, the room next door likely connected to it. Twilight stops the water to help bring the conversation into focus.

“—told you to clean that damn mess up down there, didn’t I?” A female voice says, likely Butter Cream’s.

The voice of a stallion responds. “Well it’s taken care of now! And why aren’t we gettin’ the sheriff out here to take care of the whole matter anyway?”

“Do you even know how much Celestia is offering for her?” Twilight’s ears perk a little straighter as she realizes she’s become the topic of discussion. “Few days ago, it was 50,000 bits for information on her return—now it’s over 100,000!” She hisses at Copper. “We hang onto her for just one more week, and then bring her and her captor to the princess? Imagine the reward, then!”

Twilight’s eyes gradually sink lower as the conversation ensues. She turns to look at her placid expression in the mirror, marked with sagging eyes and a small frown.

“Just, cool your heels!” The voice in the air duct says. Having heard enough, Twilight leaves shortly after.

Cave’s eyes dart back up to the stairs as he hears them creak once more. Only this time, instead of one of the homeowners coming down them, it’s The Princess of Friendship. She pauses halfway down to stop and look at the diamond dog, standing alone in the dark of the basement. Still unsure of herself, but too tired to care, she breathes in sharply and finishes the descent.

There’s an object held in the alicorn’s levitation, a glass of water she sets down on a table before fiddling with a hanging lantern. Her magic brings it to life, and Cave’s dirty and scarred face is rendered in renewed detail. He leans crookedly against the pipe as Twilight drags a stool across the floor in front of him.

“Here,” She says softly, retrieving the glass of water and approaching Cave with it. At first he doesn’t move, save a slight shift in his head and eyes. But after a moment of the perspiring glass being suspended in front of him, and the stern but genuine look of the princess, he can’t help but lean in for a sip.

At the very first taste of water, Cave turns desperate, gulping it down greedily as Twilight’s magic tilts it further back for him. A bit of it spills out of his mouth and onto his chest fur, drawing the alicorn’s eyes there with it. She squints as a cautious step brings her in closer. “Is that… from the coughing?” She asks, narrowed eyes focused on a splotch of crimson in his fur.

Cave finishes another large gulp, finally pulling his muzzle away from the glass, and leaving a small stream of water to pour out over his chin. He glances down at the spot Twilight was talking about, then back to her, never saying anything to confirm her theory—nothing to deny it, either.

Twilight sighs, returning the nearly empty glass to the table with a clink. “I know you’re dangerous. But it doesn’t mean you need to be treated like this...” She muses, turning around and finding a seat on the stool. Once settled, the two can look directly at one another, Cave’s chest still heaving as he catches his breath, and the last of the drip falls to the dusty ground.

An odd feeling swells in Twilight’s chest. She rubs the back of her neck with a forehoof, while her mouth parts slowly. “...It was dragon flame—what you saw the night you captured me.” Cave swallows the last of the water that had quenched his parched throat, and his eyes watch the princess intently as she continues. “There was someone very close to me who had created it—someone who was taken from me—as revenge... By a mare who simply disagreed with my politics.” Twilight swallows the beginnings of a lump in her throat, hanging her head but keeping strong enough to maintain composure.

When she looks back up, she can’t help but ask. “...What are we doing out here, Cave?” Though already recovered from her story, there’s little energy in her voice. Like she had already anticipated disappointment. “Why did you drag me out into the desert?”

Cave takes a few more breaths of recovery before responding. “...I’m sorry.” He groans. “I can’t.”

The princess can’t help but scoff. “Here you are, chained to a pipe, and you’re still keeping me in the dark.” The shadows on one side of her face shift as she leans in closer. “Cave, it’s over. You have nothing over me anymore, and nothing left to lose. Why hold onto this?”

Cave makes an expression somewhere lost between a grimace of pain and a cocky smirk. “I told you… I have to show it to you...”

Frustrated, Twilight throws a hoof out in the air before her. “Well that’s clearly not happening anymore!” Surprised by her own voice, she rushes to seal her lips, and look around as if worried the room might have an uninvited listener. She sighs once again, and gains better control of her tone. “...Alright, well—considering the timing, and the car, I take it this may have something to do with the humans...”

“...A fair deduction…” Cave quips with a weak smile.

It was already obvious to Twilight that this wasn’t headed anywhere. Her dark bangs swing loosely as she shakes her head and leans back in her seat.

Even if Cave wasn’t going to tell her where they were headed, he did have more to say. “You were right, you know. About the humans.”

Twilight plays along. “How so?”

“About them being astronomically more accomplished than us.”

The princess rolls her eyes. “I never actually said they were more intelligent than us—”

“Oh, but you knew they were, didn’t you?” Cave interrupts. “You’d be a fool not to… Besides, I think we know each other well enough. We can be honest with each other.”

At this, a doubtful brow is raised over one of Twilight’s eyes. “Really?” She says. “You know all about me, huh?”

Cave groans as he straightens his hunched posture, allowing him to look more directly at the alicorn. “I know you haven’t bought into the shit Celestia’s selling—” He turns his head and scoffs near silently. “—pardon my language...” He scolds himself, an odd attempt at professionalism. He moves on before Twilight can say anything in between. “What Celestia has gotten all of these ponies to believe is that their time here on Earth was preordained… that the humans passing their torch and then disappearing was a religious event. But…” Again he grunts in pain as he stretches his bound limbs. “...you’re not so easily convinced, are you? Your unending search for answers got you close to the human’s research, just as sure as it brought you down those stairs.” He finishes, nodding at the old stairwell at the back of the room.

The flickering of the lantern can be heard as Twilight silently parses the information. Her eyes shift to the dirt beneath them, and then return to the scraggly figure before her. “...What do you think happened to them?”

“I don’t know…” He admits in a tired voice. “But I know it brought you to me.”

Dissatisfied, Twilight’s eyes narrow once more. “You breaking into my house brought you to me.” She retorts.

Cave simply shakes his head. “I was headed nowhere. Living off of thieving until I could drink myself to death—that would’ve been my story, before I heard about your vision.” Suspicion and doubt remain swirling behind Twilight’s eyes, but she continues to listen all the same. “...then I realised… I’m part of something.” His jaw hangs loose as he stares off into a dark corner of the room. “...’Everything happens for a reason’...”

Nothing else is said. Even after having the time to think about it, Twilight decides that perhaps that was for the best. She sighs once again and steps down from the stool. “I’m sorry, Cave.” He looks up at her with cloudy eyes that were still lost in visions of his own. “I wish I could’ve helped you.” She says. Then she collects the glass with her magic, and turns to leave.

The princess doesn’t make it up four stairs before Cave calls out to her. “Wait, Twilight—” The mare in question stops, and looks out past the banister at him. “That dragon friend of yours… you must’ve been close...” Thinking on how to phrase what he had to say next, he sniffs to fill the gap of silence. “...I still have connections. I promise you—you tell me who she is, and I can make sure she gets what she deserves.”

Twilight simply stands with one hoof up on the banister, her face giving no sense of a response. At least not until she surprises both of them with a quiet snicker. “You’re wrong.” She replies, before the smirk on her muzzle fades away. “We don’t know a single thing about one another.”

She lingers a short while on the steps, but now even Cave knew—their conversation was over. He watches with his mouth ever so slightly agape as her figure vanishes up into the kitchen, and all that’s left of her presence is the echoing creaks of the floor, and the disturbed vortex of dust left floating in the stairwell.

With his visitor gone, Cave is finally free to pull his wrists as hard apart as possible—and tear through what little bindings were left around them. He tosses the old nail onto the floor next to him, and begins rubbing at the tender skin.

He would surely be heading up those stairs in a moment, but he makes one final stop in the basement before that. Cave heads to the box of tools Copper had kicked out of his reach earlier, and slowly removes an old claw hammer with a vise-like grip.

* * *

The house is still. Every aching muscle in Cave’s body is careful not to cause too much of a stir, as the diamond dog leans his head into the kitchen. He creeps along the linoleum floor with the rhythmic ticking of a wall clock behind him, and his paws wrapped tight around the rusted hammer, as well as the lantern he’d brought up with him. There’s a small window over the kitchen sink that draws his eye, providing a portrait of the greenhouse beyond. And beyond that, a small glimpse of the covered wagon he’d been brought in from earlier.

He quickly passes through the garden and heads out the back, searching the carriage under lantern light. He makes quite a bit of noise during this time as well, considering the presence of the alicorn waiting in the kitchen door frame. As Cave retrieves the items he’d been searching for, and hastily returns to the greenhouse with a glass jug and horn bindings in tow, he’s slowed and eventually frozen in place by Twilight’s surprise presence. The two stare at one another from opposite sides of the garden, insects buzzing about between them.

Twilight goes first. “...How did you—” She begins to say, before Cave’s eyes go wide and he shouts from across the greenhouse.

“GET DOWN!” He shouts. Twilight turns her head in shock, before being shoved aside by the stallion behind her. Copper Mills, foreleg up and armed with a dusty looking crossbow, takes a shot at Cave. The bolt whizzes through the air and gets pinned in the wood siding for the garden next to him, causing the diamond dog to stumble. With his paws full, the glass jug he’d just brought in falls to the ground and smashes open, spilling a thick black liquid all over the place. The rest of the items fall behind another raised bed garden, and Cave scrambles across the floor after them. Copper watches as his legs and tail vanish from sight.

The earth pony mare still standing in the kitchen quickly rushes to her husband’s side. “Quick!” She says, holding out another bolt. Copper mumbles something unintelligible as he stomps his bow-mounted hoof onto the ground and glances out at the garden. Cave had indeed disappeared in the foliage, but interestingly, so had the princess. He looks back down at his weapon, and begins to pry back a metal lever with his spare hoof, which brings the string back toward the nut. With the string locked, he nods at the mare next to him, and allows her to place the bolt into position with her mouth.

Cave rests behind a garden bed in the back, not daring to raise his head above the frame. His ears remain perked as he listens to the distant mechanical clicks of the weapon, and he’s able to measure with careful precision just how long it takes to load. While listening to those noises, he lays on his stomach and crawls along the cobblestone floor, peaking around the garden corner slowly. The opposite wall was quite some distance away, but from his position Cave can just make out a few dark strands of Twilight’s tail.

Copper Mills slowly steps down from the kitchen doorway, and into the greenhouse. He hobbles along as his forehoof is kept raised, the tip of the bolt gleaming under the lights, and his head kept swiveling. Butter Cream trails slowly behind him, similarly scanning over the vibrant collection of flowers and ferns.

The two pause once Copper reaches the black slick on the ground, where he’d originally shot at Cave. He silently motions for his wife to stay back, then turns once more to face the junction between beds where Cave had last been seen. A fly crawling across his face goes ignored as Copper leans cautiously around the corner.

Instead of finding the prisoner, the stallion is met with the blur of a metal object flying his way, the lantern crashing near his hooves and driving him back with a shocking wave of heat. Copper backpedals and glances down as the pool of liquid goes up in flames, and immediately catches the corner of a raised bed. The fire dances and plumes in the reflection of his wide eyes, a distraction nearly great enough to pry them away from the diamond dog scuttling off to his right. Copper whips his head toward Cave just as Cave knocks a collection of rakes and shovels over to catch Twilight.They grapple with one another as the prisoner slaps one of the bindings on Twilight’s horn, and as Copper lifts up his hoof to take aim.

Just as the trigger is pulled, Copper’s leg is knocked off-center. The bolt flies up through the air to smack helplessly against the glass wall.

“Have you lost your senses?”Butter Cream barks. She gestures toward the other two who’d already ducked back beneath the gardens “Don’t shoot at the princess, shoot the filthy mutt that’s destroying my garden!”

Heat from the rising flames draws a few beads of sweat on Copper’s forehead, who puts his hoof back onto the ground to start spanning his bow. This time, he does so in panicked haste, the low roar of the fire distracting him just as much as the occasional tool or flower pot being knocked over at various points around the garden. The prisoner was somewhere out there, and he was drawing nearer.

Butter Cream yelps as she sees a gray blur rush toward her, ducking and falling back to allow a clear line-of-sight between Copper and Cave. The stallion brandishes his weapon, but even with the string locked back, the spare bolt Mrs. Cream had with her rolls helplessly along the floor, and Cave is given the first strike. And he does so with a relentless, powerful swing.

The flat end of the hammer crushes against Copper’s extended leg, causing a dull thud just before he can cry out in pain. Unyielding, Cave swings again at the retreating stallion, bruising his shoulder and knocking him to the floor. Driven by an animalistic fury, Cave is more than prepared for a third strike, but is interrupted by the sobbing mare who leaps onto his back, and bites into the back of his neck. His teeth clench over a painful shout, and he swings about wildly trying to shake his new attacker.

As Butter Cream and the prisoner grapple with one another, Copper Mills scampers along the ground toward the remaining bolt, toppling onto his side and desperately grabbing it with his teeth. He next rolls onto his back so that he can slide the bolt onto the tiller of the bow, fighting through the aching pain in his leg and shoulder.

“BUTTER—aughh— ” Copper looks up at the other two with a wide grimace on his muzzle. “STAY OUTTA THE WAY!”

Cave reaches up over his shoulder and latches onto the mare on his back’s mane, tearing pieces of hair from her head and a shriek from her lungs, as he swings her entire body over and in front of him. She lands head first on the cold stone beneath them, and her crying suddenly stops.

Copper’s eyes shoot wide open. “NOOOO!” He screams, as Twilight scampers around the corner.

“Cave, stop it!” The princess demands, witnessing the scene before her with tear-stricken eyes.

This goes ignored by Cave. Instead, he tosses Butter Cream aside as Copper fights to lift his shaking hoof up toward the prisoner, and starts to pull the long metal trigger. Before that happens, however, Cave is already pouncing. He lunges down onto Copper and easily shoves his wounded leg aside, holding it tight with one paw, and bringing the claw-side of his hammer down with the other. The metal prongs sink into the flesh just behind the elbow, resting there only long enough for Copper to howl out in another long string of cries. The howl grows shriller as Cave yanks the hammer down, creating the sickening noise of hide being sheared through.

Twilight leans along the garden beds as she hobbles in shock to where the fight continued. Her magic sparks and laps against the binding placed on her horn, as the blazing fire exposes the battle before her in a hellish, flickering light.

Cave swings the hammer back and a ribbon of blood sprays off of it behind him, the aged steel glistening under the tremendous, expanding flames. Muscles strained and stained with blood, he cries out as he twists with his whole body to bring down the final blow.

Or it likely would’ve been, had a sudden burst of magic not flung it from his paw. He turns around in time to watch the hammer fly across the room, and land helplessly somewhere back inside the deluge of flames. And there standing in front of them is Twilight—the magic resistant band on her horn still glowing from the force of energy that had just surged through it. “STOP! PLEASE!” She shouts over the raging inferno.

Cave stays frozen, his arm still half-cocked for a swing. He looks back at Twilight with shifting eyes and a wicked snarl… but as the seconds pass, both features begin to fade, and the heavy breathing in his chest steadies.

A hoof suddenly throws itself around Cave’s hind leg, as a barely-conscious Copper Mill drags himself up and takes aim. Without a moment’s hesitation, Cave reaches down and twists the stallion’s leg until it points up under his chin, and fires the last bolt up into his skull. The pony dies almost instantly.

Twilight’s knees fail her as she stares wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the scene.

“What did you do?” A mare’s voice calls out—but it isn’t Twilight’s. With a creek of blood painted from the top of her head to her chin, she crawls across the floor to reach her husband, and sob softly over his broken bones.

All the while, a firm paw grips behind Twilight’s neck, and she instantly starts thrashing. “NO!” She cries out, writhing and fighting to make another spark of magic. But Cave holds onto her like a farmer might a wild animal, and easily slips the second band onto her horn. “GET OFF OF ME!”

Cave yanks her to her hooves and starts pushing her toward the back door, only stopping when he faces the familiar sight of the crossbow aimed at him.

Butter Cream, eyes glossed over, blood and tears streaming down her face, shakily holds the weapon toward Cave. She absentmindedly pulls the trigger, with no results as the string is still loose, and the bow unloaded. Cave watches silently as the mare reaches for the lever atop the weapon, barely having the breath to pull it. It slips from her hoof before the string is even pulled halfway to the nut, and she pauses only long enough to whimper before reaching out and trying again.

Cave shoves Twilight to the side, navigating the two of them around the other ponies. “Come on…” He grumbles, ignoring Butter Cream as she tries in vain to follow him with the frame of her bow. Twilight twists herself around to watch over her shoulder as she’s ushered out into the night, to watch as the mare behind her drops her weapon to the ground, and plants her weeping eyes in her hooves. “We’re almost finished.” Cave growls without looking back. “I promise.”

Twilight’s protests float a great distance out over the empty desert, but not nearly as far as the raging of the flames behind her; or the pained howls of Butter Cream’s infinite sorrow. They echo into the night as she cradles Copper’s lifeless corpse, and as she does nothing to stop the swirling inferno around her.

The burning expanse claims everything in that glass box. Flame as bright as the sun, and rising smoke as black as obsidian. Even the tormented cries of a broken mare are eventually lost in its hellish crescendo.

...And Justice for All

A hooful of ponies canter about merrily in a scene one might mistake as Ponyville. Colorful banners hang between the row of buildings, and cheerful voices permeate the warm air. Only, the town wasn’t always like this; in fact, its peaceful and lighthearted energy was quite a recent development—and nopony knows this better than Starlight Glimmer.

Starlight swings a door open into one of the buildings, then steps aside when she realizes there were ponies headed out. She smiles sheepishly at them and they smile back, passing through while Starlight holds the door, and wait to get out of earshot before whispering to one another. Starlight tries to ignore this, and keeps her head up as she enters the busy little shop.

The atmosphere inside is quite vibrant. Ponies shuffle about the two story interior, the main entrance floor rising up to meet the ceiling (which is crowded with balloons), and flanked by a surrounding balcony where more shoppers converse. There’s lively music playing on a phonograph, just audible over the ponies’ conversations and the winding and whistling of various noise makers.

Starlight Glimmer begins to navigate to the checkout counter, politely excusing herself as she has to wade through a few groups of shoppers, and their occasional staring and double takes. She stops at where a small line had formed, waiting patiently for the ponies ahead to finish their commerce—and making a few side glances at the stallion with a blue coat and mane behind the counter.

Her wandering gaze gets her distracted, and she rushes to scoop up a thin lollipop with her magic before being summoned up to the counter.

“Starlight?” The stallion running the register says. Starlight grins awkwardly, nodding as she gently places the candy down on the counter.

“Hi, Party Favor...” She responds without much conviction in her voice.

“Well, what’re—I mean—” Party Favor pauses briefly to lick his lips and get his syntax in order. “...are you... in town for a visit?”

Starlight leans in a little further as the noise around her grows in volume. “Uh, I might be staying, actually—for a little while, I mean.”

Party Favor’s eyes grow wide with genuine shock. “Oh!” His eyes move around in a quick, shifty manner before they settle on the lollipop between the two of them. “Well it’s… good to see you again, Starlight.” He trails off, and drags the candy back slowly before ringing it up on the register. Lost in a string of uncomfortable nods and silence, Starlight eventually remembers how shopping works, and pulls out a coin purse.

“Right, sorry.” She scrambles to apologize. “Here you go:”

Party gives a puzzled look as Starlight maneuvers a small pile of four gold coins onto the table. He swipes one away with his hoof, then smiles as he relocates it to the register. “It’s just one bit.” He says.

“Right, of course.” Starlight mocks herself with a hoof pointed to her head and an exaggerated eye roll. She starts to collect the excess change before suddenly getting more to the point of her appearance. “Uh… Party Favor,” The stallion stands at attention. “do you actually… have any open positions or anything, that I could—maybe fill?”

“Oh, gosh Starlight, I’m not sure…” He scratches his head in an effort to recall the details, though whether or not it’s a genuine display could be debated. “...But, just off the top of my head, I think that we’re all—you know, pretty much covered around here!” He finishes with a smile. “But…”

Starlight Glimmer nods in understanding before he can go on any longer. “Got it. Well, thanks anyway.”

“Of course.” He replies, his tone a little more rushed now.

“Well, I know that I was, uh,” She leans in again before murmuring her next words through lips half sealed. “pretty terrible to you guys, back in the day… A-and I was just looking for any way to try and make it right… So…”

Party Favor interrupts during the lull in Starlight’s explanation. “Yeah, I’m sorry Starlight, but...” He raises a forehoof and she follows it with a glance over her shoulder, noticing the mare with her two children and a leg wrapped around a full bag of accessories standing in line behind her.

“Oh! Right, I’m sorry.” Starlight stammers, finally backing off of the counter. “Guess I’ll see you around, then…” She says, before smiling and briefly waving goodbye.

Starlight’s painfully forced smile starts to falter almost immediately after turning to leave. She makes it only halfway from the counter to the door, before the blue stallion canters after her, and regains her attention with a hoof up on her shoulder. Surprised, Starlight spins around to find the lollipop she’d forgotten suspended in mid-air before her, and the stallion who’d cast the spell looking onward with a look of genuine compassion.

“I’m sorry.” Party Favor says, before Starlight can stumble over another apology of her own. “You know, I really do think you’re pretty courageous for coming back. I know that couldn’t have been an easy decision to make.” The tension in Starlight’s shoulders dissipates a bit, and she collects the candy with her own magic before letting him finish. “Just wanted to let you know that I appreciate that.”

Starlight’s head tilts a little as her smile stretches itself back out. “Thank you.”

Party Favor starts to return to the counter where a particularly impatient looking mother waits, but not before waving and communicating one last thought. “And I’ll ask around for any opportunities for you. I mean it!”

Starlight waves back, chuckling quietly to herself. “That’d mean a lot, thanks!”

Before leaving entirely, Starlight turns back toward the door again, and stares down at the rainbow striped candy in her levitation. She snickers softly once more, playfully scolding herself with a head shake.

* * *

A middle-aged mare with a pale violet coat and her crimson mane dangling over her glasses sits alone at a cluttered desk. Her magic wraps around a flimsy fork that prods at the salad before her, the small bite guided to her mouth while her eyes are distracted by an open document. Her ears, however, instead become distracted by a soft knock at her office door.

The mare glances up to see a tired looking Rainbow Dash standing in the doorway. “Oh, Ms. Dash—” she purses her lips while recalling a detail. “—er, Captain Rainbow Dash now, correct?”

Dash nods dutifully. “That’s right, Your Honor.”

The judge behind her desk places her fork down and beckons Rainbow in. “Please, have a seat.”

The pegasus silently obliges, stepping into the cramped office and finding her spot on a stool across from the other mare. She glances down at the desk briefly, noting the mess of notes and files, and the black and gold nameplate up front adorned with the title of ‘Justice Raine’.

“I’m sorry about the...” Justice waves a hoof out over the salad dish. “Not much time left in my day to have chats like this. Of course, this is nothing compared to the business you’ve kept up with. I remember a time when I could hardly read a newspaper without you and your friends in the headline… stopping a disaster, or defeating some—monster hell-bent on destroying the town!” She says with the light of excitement in her eye, and a smile on her muzzle.

Rainbow Dash merely nods with a lazy smirk. “...Yeah, time was simpler when the monsters had claws and fangs...” She continues to bob her head slowly and without cause, her unfocused eyes staring out into the void while her smirk diminishes. “...I’ve got somepony coming through here. I was hoping you could give me a rundown on how their case is looking to you.”

Justice tilts her head and creases her eyes in confusion. “You want me to share case details with you? Before the trial?” She asks, bemused.

Dash shakes her head. “I just want your professional opinion on how things might… pan out in court. I mean, I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of similar cases—enough to give you an idea?”

The light violet mare sighs and pushes her lunch aside, wheeling back to a cabinet behind her desk. “Guess I can’t turn down an offer from the pony who’s poster is hung up in my kid’s room.” She says as she opens one of the drawers. “Who’s the unlucky mare?”

“Stallion, actually.” Dash quickly points out. “Goes by the name ‘Aegis’.” She says, articulating his name with slow and pronounced detail.

The judge only briefly looks over the rim of her glasses in thought, before sliding the drawer close and pushing back toward her desk. “Oh, yeah. Equestrians guy, right?” Rainbow Dash nods in affirmation. “Yeah, not sure you’re gonna get a jury to bite on that one.”

“On the murder charges?” Dash asks with a brow raised.

Justice shakes her head and picks the fork back up with her magic. “On any of it.” The revelation is hardly satisfactory for Captain Rainbow Dash, who scoffs as the judge goes for a quick bite of her salad. After holding a hoof to her lips and hurrying her chewing along, she provides the cyan pegasus with more of an explanation—whether Dash is interested in hearing it or not. “The city has no real evidence. If you were lucky, your guy would do the talking for you; rap sheet and tattoos or whatever. But you don’t have that either.”

Rainbow Dash leans in to counter her point as Justice goes for another quick bite. “We have him clearly tied to the creation of The Equestrians—his name is all over their own pamphlets!”

“Right, but not that he ordered all of that awful stuff they did. In fact, during that time frame, we have him placed on the other side of the country. I mean, as far as anypony knows, he created a simple peaceful protest then got usurped by somepony more radical in middle management.”

Frustrated, Dash tosses a hoof into the air before her. “Oh, come on! They have phones in western Equestria!”

Justice smirks, leaving the fork to stand upright in her container. “...Be that as it may, you can’t throw him in jail on a hunch. Especially when this stallion has no prior arrests in his entire life, and is well liked in his community. Celestia’s sake, he was helping build bird houses for some animal sanctuary a couple years back...”

The words fall on deaf ears. Rainbow Dash rubs her tired eyes with the tip of her forehoof, letting her rainbow locks messily fall over both.

“You want this guy to go away? You’re gonna need some indisputable evidence—shipment logs, or forensic DNA analysis on those illegal imports. Past that? ...I can’t see the city of Canterlot sticking him with much more than disturbance of the peace.”

A heavy sigh fills the room. Rainbow Dash idly looks around the modest sized office, then slides out of her seat and regards the other mare without actually looking at her. “Thanks for the tip...”

In an unseen gesture, Justice flails both of her hooves out over her desk, watching Rainbow’s bright tail drift slowly toward the door. “I’m sorry, Captain.” She calls out. “My hooves are tied!”

Rainbow Dash steps back out into the castle hall, nudging the office door behind her closed. A pair of guards march past in front of her, and once out of the way, they reveal another figure waiting against the opposite wall for Dash. A tall, scaled figure.

Dominus Temporis nods in Rainbow’s direction. “You find what you were looking for?” He asks.

Dash looks off to the side, chewing her lip in frustration. “What the hell is a… ‘forensic—DNAanalysis’?”

The amber dragon on the opposite side of the hall pushes off from the castle stone. “Er, last vestiges of Senator Peach’s work. Uses man-made technology to match suspects who’ve held onto or gone near criminal evidence.” Another in a long string of disappointing answers, Dash shakes her head and forces a sigh through her nostrils. “Why? Is that what she’s saying the case’ll need?”

Rainbow Dash tosses her tangled mane. “In like, a thousand more words than she needed to.” She turns to the side and props her forelegs up over a stone balcony railing, prompting Dominus to come join her. “Could’ve saved us both the time, and just told me to go fuck myself when I walked in...” She mumbles under her breath as the dragon settles next to her.

The warm sun casts down upon the two creatures, their eyes dancing between the ornate fountain and elaborately trimmed shrubbery in the courtyard below. A wide spectrum of birds flies about this space, chirping their tune merrily, and weaving through the occasional passerby that looks like they too were on the verge of singing.

Sunshine and smiles. For Rainbow Dash at least, the sight didn’t stir a single muscle in her body; least of all, on her muzzle.

“...I hate them.” She murmurs quietly. Dominus leans a little further over the railing, then turns to look at the mare next to him.

“Who, bureaucrats?” He asks.

Dash simply shrugs her shoulders. “Sure, I hate them. I hate every single roadblock they’ve gotta throw in our way. I hate the bastards like Aegis that make them even necessary. I hate Celestia and her stupid little tower she built to look down at us from...” Her lip begins to quiver, but she forces them to keep working for her. “...I hate those stupid fucking apes, how they had the only thing that ever made sense in this world—hunger, survival—and they decided to light a fire, and… pick up a club, an-and throw all of that away! What good has it really done for us? What difference would it’ve made, if at the end of the universe we were still running through the tall grass, or-or-or, sitting in our castles behind thirty stone walls?” The young mare’s eyes are well and misty now, as she takes a moment to wipe her nose with an elbow, and steady the croak in her voice.

“...And I hate that my best friend has been missing for days now, and all I can think about is this—stupid, meaningless shit!” The tears begin to flow freely. Rainbow strains her voice to finish her rant, unable to fix her swollen eyes on anything but the walls across the yard from her. “I let Twilight down, and all I care about is getting somepony sent to prison!”

“You never let Twilight down.” Dominus adds in a soft voice.

Rainbow Dash scoffs through her tear-stricken expression, and shakes her head at the sickeningly upbeat scene before her. “Well, I wasn’t there to stop her kidnapping, and no idea who did it, so what would you call it?” She stops briefly to sniff and glance further away from Dominus, but picks back up before he has a chance to respond. “And now I have no idea where she is, and if she’s hurt—or-or even if she’s still alive out there…”

“Twilight is going to be okay.” Temporis comments, once again softly yet firm.

Still quite worked up, Dash merely shakes her head and lifts a hoof into the air. “You don’t know that.” She croaks, still facing the other direction. Dominus Temporis gently places a claw on the mare’s shoulder, eliciting a small jolt from her. She finally turns back around and stares with red eyes at the dragon.

“Rainbow Dash. I’m telling you,” His scar-like pupils are unmoving as he speaks with slow confidence. “Twilight is going to be okay.”

Dash’s own eyes dark back and forth, hopelessly unmatched to the other creature’s confidence. And staring straight at that confidence, she’s able to realize—this is something Dominus couldn’t possibly be more sure of.

The pegasus collapses into her friend’s arms. “Thank you.” She cries, head nestled against his hardened chest. Despite being nearly twice her size, Dominus’s embrace of Rainbow Dash is gentle and loving, his claws kept outward as the pads of his fingers pet her back slowly. “Thank you...” She quietly says once more. Even with tears still glistening against her fur, the frame of a relieved smile begins to show. One the mare had been deprived of for months.

* * *

Not far from Rainbow and Dominus’s meeting over the courtyard, a trio of guard ponies salute to their superior. They’re relieved with a nod from the tall ivory princess, and she follows them to the exit of her room as they march out. “If you find anything at all, please report to me about it.” She says in her usual regal yet commanding voice. The guards walk robotically toward the stairwell, but have their journey interrupted before they can reach it.

Princess Luna stands at the top of the stairs, acknowledging the guards’ salutes with a simple nod, before quickly snapping her eyes back to her elder sister.

Celestia sighs. She turns and walks back into her room without a word, but leaves the door wide open for Luna to follow. Once she does, the Princess of the Night stops confidently at the edge of Celestia’s red carpet, watching the other mare with attentive eyes and a neutral frown. The eldest stands away from Luna, peering out of her open balcony, past the vines and flowers that dangle in the wind, and over the great rolling sea of clouds beyond.

“Is there something you wish to tell me, dear sister?” The princess words float to the wind. There isn’t a hint of love in her tone, nor venom. Like it was a simple observation, more so than a question.

“Only one thing.” Luna replies. “And I need you to hear me out on it.”

This draws a large inhale from Celestia, who finally turns around to face the other mare, and leave the vivid blue sky to her back. It fills the room with a soft, natural glow, that bounces and reflects off of the ornate furnishings inside. “Do tell.”

Princess Luna nods slightly before beginning. “...I know you’re disappointed in me. I know that you feel I haven’t been ruling quite the way you’ve expected me to. The way you would rule.” Celestia’s gaze stays steady and her mouth still. “But the truth is—we rule, together. And I haven’t found some of your methods particularly agreeable either.”

Celestia tilts her head and raises an antagonizing brow. “‘My methods’?”

But Luna stops her with a raised hoof. “I’m not here to argue with you. We’re not arguing anymore.” The alicorn standing opposite of her raises her chin but doesn’t interrupt. “We have a nation depending on us. And now more than ever, we need to put our differences behind us, and work together.”

A cool breeze rolls in through the balcony behind Celestia, rousing her already majestically flowing mane. She stares at her sister with an attentive expression, then humors her with a simple nod.

Princess Luna lets out a sigh through her nostrils. She begins to inspect the circular room around her, eyes softening as she glances over the mundane details. Her sister’s bed curtains blowing gently in the wind, the large fireplace that sits unlit to their side; yet that could still nearly be heard crackling in the back of Luna’s mind. It drudged up nostalgia that was both pleasant and painful to bear.

“...You’re important to me, Celestia. And we share a bond few creatures could ever possibly know.” For a moment, the well-practiced shrewdness in Celestia’s glance is gone, and her eyes glisten with genuine emotion. “So let’s honor that. When burdened with strife, I will come to you. I will speak plainly of it.” Not aware of how long she’d held her own eyes open, Luna blinks a few times before finishing. “And I expect the same from you.”

It was true, the relationship between immortal beasts was a complicated one, and who knows what part of it Celestia became lost in when she stares down at the carpet under their hooves. Looking back up, the brief vulnerability is lost—and the stern, horizon-bound look of a leader reclaims her visage.

“Agreed.”

* * *

A large stack of crumpled up gum wrappers are shoveled into a small bin next to the hospital bed. The mare atop it, scowling at her notes and already chewing another stick, tosses a manila folder to the side and flaps bitterly through the pages of her ledger. It’s not until the room’s sole door comes open that her eyes are pried from the work.

“Hey,” The mare in the doorway says, a mint-green unicorn with golden eyes. “looks like I’m getting out of here today. You need anything before I go?” The pegasus in the bed simply shakes her head.

There’s a large hovering around behind Lyra, who she turns to introduce to fill the awkward silence. “...Hey, look! This is the guy you almost fought to the death with, remember that?” She pats the stallion on the back of the neck as he shuffles forward.

“Hey, uh—name’s Crane. And just so we’re clear, I woulda won that fight.” Crane says with a smirk. Moon Dust only briefly looks up at the other two, not willing to put the effort into a response, and returning to her work without one.

Crane’s smirk fades as slowly as his head turns back to Lyra. “...Didn’t tell me she oozes this much charisma…” He mutters under his breath.

Dr. Heartstrings rolls her eyes. “Just—give us a moment…” She responds, stepping into the room and slowly swinging the door shut behind her. The door’s latch clicking into the frame once again disturbs Moon Dust from her documents. She puts the files down with a sigh and nods at the unicorn beyond her bed.

“What?” She asks, in a somewhat annoyed tone.

Despite this, Lyra opts to keep her own manner of speaking polite. “I know you’re just doing this because it’s your job, but...” She walks around to the bedside, getting herself close enough to glance at the open notes. “...that mare means a lot to me. If there’s anything I can do to help—”

“I know.” Moon Dust interjects. The gum in her mouth had long since lost its color, but she chews it relentlessly regardless, rubbing her chin with her healthy forehoof. “...Look, I’m doing all that I can. These things are never cut and dry, but my gut tells me we’re gonna find her—alive.”

Lyra begins to drift off in thought. She nods as her social instinct leads her to, while letting her curious eyes fall over the documents in front of Moon Dust. One photo in particular holds her attention.

“Who’s that?” She asks, pointing to the mugshot of a diamond dog.

Moon Dust hesitates to respond, no doubt considering if Lyra really needed to be privy to that information. “...A criminal. Works out of White Tail.”

“And you think he’s connected to what happened with Twilight?” Lyra inquires, leaning a little further forward. This causes Moon Dust to swipe some of her documents under a folder, hiding notes and photos from the nosy unicorn.

“I don’t know.” She snips. “He might be helping The Equestrians, who might be involved with Twilight’s disappearance. Alright?”

Lyra scoffs. “I told you, they weren’t at my restaurant for—”

“I know,” The pegasus bites, shooting a sharp glance. “but I doubt Twilight’s policies have made her particularly good friends with The Equestrians, either. They’ve attacked several spots in Canterlot, and killed nearly a dozen ponies—kidnapping a princess certainly doesn’t seem—”

A sudden third mare makes her way into the hospital room, quickly drawing all eyes on her. “Excuse me, Ms. Dust?” She says in a soft tone. “There’s somepony on the phone for you.”

Dr. Heartstrings quickly twists her head from the healthcare worker to the pegasus still in bed. The thinning piece of gum in her mouth can be heard squishing as she works it particularly hard, then grunts as she lifts herself up and leans toward the trash bin. Moon Dust fires the white glob into the bin with immaculate accuracy, before looking up at Lyra and commanding something of her. “Don’t touch my notes.” She says firmly.

Moon Dust is lead out to a telephone at the reception desk, the soft-eyed mare who lead her there offering the phone with a wave. Though she also makes a comment as soon as Moon picks it up. “Try to make it quick—you really should be resting right now.”

The comment is returned with an unamused scowl. Moon Dust holds the hoofset inches from her face, motionless, and shoots daggers at the other mare until her concerned expression is wiped clean, and she’s forced to simply return to her desk.

Moon Dust turns back around, hunching near a tall fake plant as she brings the hoofset up. “Yeah?” She asks on the line. “Yeah. Did you get the sample I sent over?”

The ramblings of an elderly mare being wheeled down the hall briefly draw Moon’s eyes up, the cord behind her being tested as she leans a little further away. “Okay…” She responds to the pony on the phone, catching the glance of her room at the other end of the hall. In it, she can see Lyra lifting some of her photos and notes up for inspection, an action that elicits an annoyed hoof toss and eye roll from Moon Dust.

“Okay, ju—hold on a second. Pretend for a moment that I don’t care about the ‘dry bulk density vs. the high particle density’, and just tell me anything that might help the case—like, where the dirt might’ve come from, or who might’ve tracked it in.”

The voice on the phone continues, as Moon Dust nods along impatiently. At least, until something the other mare says gives her pause. “Wait, wait, wait—what was that you said about it being ‘subterranean’?”

The pegasus stares back up at her room, and Lyra who’s still inside of it. Moon Dust’s eyes gradually grow wider as she focuses on the photo held in the unicorn’s levitation—the same one she had overseen earlier.

After it had slipped a little ways away, Moon Dust raises the phone back to her lips and interrupts the other voice. “Thanks, that’ll be all.”

She drops the hoofset face down on the desk behind her, then begins to hobble back to her room. She rushes past Crane and eventually through Lyra, scooping up some the documents on the desk and frantically sliding them into the crook of her wing.

Dr. Heartstrings looks onward, dumbfounded as the photo is snatched from her levitation. “What’s going on? Did you find something?” She asks.

With her rummaging finished, Moon Dust nods frantically and turns to the door. “It’s a hunch.” She growls.

Lyra shakes her head in confusion. She watches the wounded mare shamble back out of the room, then turns to inspect the bed. A good portion of the case work had been left behind. “Hey!” Lyra calls out, collecting it all with her magic. “You forgot all of this stuff!”

Moon Dust only takes a quick glance behind her. “I’ve got what I need.” She replies, continuing her journey down the hall. “You make sure that gets where it needs to be.”

This serves only to confuse Lyra. She mouths the word ‘what’ without her voice actually carrying a sound, then looks down to properly inspect the contents in her levitation. The most notable item is a ledger, which as Lyra flips through the pages of, brings her the realization that it’s filled with notes and annotations. There are what appear to be lists of names scribbled on loose paper, equations, and enough decoding work to fill a second book.

Lyra flips the pile over, and inspects the large envelope at the bottom. It’s addressed—written hastily in the middle:

Canterlot, Equestrian Special Forces,
Captain Rainbow Dash

The objects drift out of view for Lyra just in time for her to see Moon Dust almost turn a corner. “Hold on a sec!”

As Moon Dust stops, and turns around with an annoyed expression on her face, Lyra realizes this is the first time in a while she’s actually been able to see all of the pegasus—including the mysterious symbol on her flank. “What’s your cutie mark supposed to be?”

Moon Dust glances at the mark in question: a gorgeous, waning crescent moon with a cloud of fine, sparkling lights over its dark side. To Lyra’s complete shock, Moon Dust looks back up at her, and offers no more than a dull expression and a shrug of her shoulders. “My mother was an astronomer.” She responds. After that, she simply takes her leave.

Dr. Heartstrings is left frozen in the hall, still watching the spot where Moon Dust stood while her mouth hangs ajar. Eventually she can’t help but snicker quietly to herself, looking at the evidence held with her magic, and shaking her head in bewilderment.

* * *

The chilled night sky hangs over a small village, distant bright stars visible in unfettered detail as they loom over the sleepy houses below.

A brown cat scatters into the dark alleys as a nearby door creaks open. Starlight Glimmer steps out from the two-story stone building behind her. She uses her magic to gently close the door again, and then walk out into the small yard before her. There’s a square of grass in the center, with blades that reach up and barely fall short of Starlight’s knees. Exterior building walls make three sides to the enclosed area, with an arched alleyway cutting through one of them, and a tall iron fence making the fourth wall opposite of it. A thin tree grows in the corner near Starlight, branching out over her and spreading its pink flowers over the patio area and yard.

Starlight Glimmer sighs as she sits down on her haunches. The scene is quite tranquil—amidst the glow of the lanterns strung around her, and the soft flickering of candlelight in a few of the windows. It was nothing like she had remembered it… nothing like how she had left it.

Just as the mare begins to shake her head in bemusement of her situation, and stand back up to head inside, a soft noise from the darkness distracts her. Her ears perk and she squints her eyes at the flat land beyond the iron gate, a blurry figure emerging from the horizon.

“Starlight?” The figure hisses. The confused unicorn is drawn out into the yard and to have her muzzle pressed against the tall fence, head tilting in disbelief once her eyes can make the creature out.

“Trixie?” She replies back to the visitor. “What are you doing here?”

The all too familiar sound of Trixie’s scoff floats on the breeze. “Well I am a travelling magician. You can’t expect me to stay in one town forever!”

Starlight wraps a forehoof around one of the bars, and lifts herself up on her hindlegs to glance around her friend. She had indeed come alone. “But… How did you find me?”

Even in the dark, the smug face Trixie makes in response is unmistakable. “Starlight. You’re my best friend.” The comment elicits a warm smile from Starlight. “And best friends know that it’s okay to go through each other’s luggage without saying, and look at their train ticket.” The smile deflates into an amused smirk.

“Now, help The Great and Powerful Trixie over this thing!” The blue unicorn says, grappling helplessly at the bars. “Trixie doesn’t remember there being so many… agh—fences in this town.”

Starlight’s magic suddenly envelopes Trixie, and she’s lifted cautiously up and over the fence between the two ponies. She writhes around a bit at the sensation, being lifted by magic apparently a sensation that’s difficult to get used to. But eventually, the pony is dropped safely on the other side, right next to Starlight.

“Well.” Trixie begins, dusting herself off with her hooves. “...It’s certainly quite… quaint here, isn’t it?” She says, eyeing the buildings around them. Without regarding Starlight, she begins to march toward the center of the yard to get a better inspection. “Yes, I suppose I could see ‘The G and P T’ setting up in a place like this.”

Starlight Glimmer sets one hoof down in front of her, and calls out to her friend. “Trixie. I really appreciate you coming to see me, I really do… But—”

“Yupupup!” Trixie interjects, turning and raising a forehoof to better visualize her cutting off of Starlight. “I know you really appreciate me coming to see you. I’d really appreciate me coming to see me too, after the way you treated me.” The confusing sentiment only serves to drive Starlight’s eyes up in thought, and her lips pursed to give a response, once she’d worked through it.

Trixie doesn’t give her the chance. “But I’m here now. And I’m here because no matter how hard you might try, we’re in this together.”

Lost somewhere between further confusion and suspicion, Starlight replies. “You know, it probably would’ve helped for you to have said this back in Ponyville instead of...”

“What I said back in Ponyville is neither here nor there, and I only said it—” Having already spun off almost instantly, Trixie shakes her head and makes a conscious effort to better verbalize her feelings. “—I only said it, because… you had—hurt… me.” The usual prideful vibrato lost, her voice wavers off into the night as she ends up staring down at the grass.

Starlight nods solemnly. “...I know.” She admits. “I certainly could have handled things better.” The ambient noises of a cat fight can be heard in the far distance as Starlight steps forward, and lays a hoof on Trixie’s shoulder. “But you’re right. You’re here now…” Trixie’s eyes shimmer as she lifts her gaze to meet Starlight’s. “...and I couldn’t be happier to have you.”

The two stare at one another while Trixie’s smile slowly builds up to meet the length of Starlight’s. Before it reaches that point, the magician nods and shies away from the intimacy.

Starlight Glimmer slides her hoof back down to the grass. “So,” She says cheerfully. “you bring your wagon?”

“Wouldn’t leave without it.” Trixie confidently replies.

“Good.” Says Starlight, nodding enthusiastically. “Because, uh… this place has been a little quiet. I betcha these ponies would probably be into the idea of a great and powerful magic show…”

The tried and true ‘Trixie smirk’ wraps itself around her muzzle. “Oh, I know they would. And that reminds me! The disappearing mare act? I’ve found a way to totally revolutionize it… forget about old trunks and trap doors—just wait until you see it!”

Starlight smiles a little wider at how quickly her friend can turn around, and almost instantly let her excitement run wild on something. “Okay Trix’, I’m all ears.” She makes a sweeping gesture with her foreleg toward the alley. “You lead me to where you’ve got the wagon setup, and we’ll see this latest masterpiece.”

Trixie shuts her eyes and points her nose to the air. “It would be my pleasure.” She says with a devilish smirk.

* * *

A massive storm front looms over the Ponyville horizon, the dark clouds occasionally being lit from inside or behind with bright flashes of lighting. The thunder rolls off a couple seconds later, and vibrates the windows around Twilight’s crystalline castle.

Moon Dust hobbles up to the front steps while her bandaged foreleg is kept against her chest. She takes one angry look at the pair of guards standing at the front door, and they step aside without protest. She pushes through the massive golden doors just as a light drizzle starts to fall.

The ghostly halls inside paint a somber picture. Moonlight seeps in through the tall stained glass windows, coloring the pegasus’s journey forward in all manner of shades and hues. But Moon Dust isn’t interested in the halls…

Instead, she finds her way into the castle’s basement. The first room at the bottom of the stairs is rather modest in size, packed tightly with dark wood furniture, a stone fireplace, and a long couch with gorgeous ornate trim. Moon Dust’s presence in the room had awoken some system of magic, soft yellow lights slowly spreading their light out from behind some of the cabinets and bookshelves. She rubs a hoof along the couch’s wooden trim, turning it over once done to inspect the thin layer of dust she’d just acquainted herself with.

Moon Dust grunts as she lowers herself to the burgundy carpet. Leaving the care of the hospital before fully healed had taken its toll on her health, and even small actions like this drain a little more color out of her face. Even still, she searches diligently along the fibers of the carpet, brushing through them with the tip of her forehoof. Every now and then small particles of dirt are found in the carpet—particularly, in one section behind the couch.

A small trickle of sweat rolls down the mare’s head as she scampers closer to the wall, keeping her head near the ground and sticking her ear to the bottom of the furniture. She scans over a storage chest, and past a lamp, before stopping at the base of a tightly packed bookshelf. Moon Dust finds a sound down there that holds her attention, her ears turning at the faint, fleeting noise.

The pegasus grunts as she stands back to her hooves. It’s a blessing that Twilight Sparkle isn’t home, for her eyes are spared the horror of watching Moon Dust deshelve her books. She tears out enough of them to get a hoof stretched to the back, then indiscriminately starts digging them off the shelves in large numbers, only to be mercilessly sent flying into a pile on the floor. Years and years of tales dumped from their homes and laid out around her hindlegs, until the dark wooden shelves are completely bare.

Distant thunder rolls in the distance—not that it deters Moon Dust for even a second. After emptying the bookcase, she knocks the lamp to its side out of the way and braces her shoulder against the large piece of furniture. From her face down to her legs, the muscles in Moon Dust’s body strain and tremble as she pushes against the shelving unity, pivoting it along the carpet slowly. Even moving it just inches from the wall suddenly brings out a draft of cold air, stinging the pegasus’s sweaty coat as she continues.

Finally, with one last grunt and shove, Moon Dust backs the bookcase a satisfying distance from the wall, and turns to witness the fruits of her labor. A dark and cold tunnel through the earth spans before her, just big enough for an average stallion to walk through it. Moon Dust looks at the back of the bookcase while she catches her breath, noticing a section of the backboard that had been torn through, and claw marks along the shelf it once guarded. She turns toward the dark tunnel shaft again, having just recovered enough breath to utter only two words:

“Fuck me…”

* * *

Princess Celestia is watching the crackling fire when there’s a knock on her door. She turns away from the heat, just enough to witness her visitor once they come through the door. “Come in.” She orders.

The door creaks as it swings open slowly, and a pale pegasus hobbles in. She stumbles and leans against the doorframe before even making it through, drawing a mild look of concern from Celestia. “Moon Dust—” She says. “—what happened to you?”

The pony in question holds her bandaged hoof close to the chest, and peers across the room at Celestia while excess rain trickles down her pale face. Rain or sweat—it’s impossible to tell. “Got in a fight with The Equestrians...” She groans. “...they got a few good hits in on me…”

Concerned and more than a little curious, Celestia looks over the sickly mare and her sad condition. The trail ends at the pegasus’s mane, wet and messy, and dangling against her shoulders. “Your blade?” Moon Dust begins nodding before Celestia even finishes. “Have you lost it?”

“In the fight, yeah.” With the strength to finally do so, Moon Dust pushes off of the doorframe to fully enter the bedroom. “Celestia.” She says, voice faltering a bit. “I went back to Twilight’s castle.”

The expression in Celestia’s face almost immediately turns sharp. “Have you found something?”

Moon Dust nods. “She was captured by a diamond dog… there’s a tunnel dug straight into her basement.”

The striking red fire crackles behind Celestia as she steps forward. “A diamond dog?” There’s an instability in her voice that’s uncommon for the princess. “Did you follow it? Where did the tunnel lead?”

“South.” A short cough creates a pause in Moon Dust’s explanation, to an impatient feeling Celestia’s dismay. “There were tracks on the other end of the tunnel, and they went south. There were tracks in the dirt, but… they were wider than any wheel I’ve ever seen.”

The puzzling explanation obviously means something to Princess Celestia, who’s eyes slowly expand as she considers it. “‘Wide tracks headed south’... you’re sure of this?”

Moon Dust stares at the towering figure before her. With the fire behind the alicorn, it paints her silhouette in a vibrant red outline, and leaves her front-facing features to be draped in shadow. “Absolutely.” Moon Dust growls. “Do you want me to follow them?”

“That won’t be necessary.” Celestia responds, confusing the younger pegasus. “I believe I already have an idea of where they could be headed.”

With a renewed sense of control, Celestia motions to the door behind Moon Dust, and eradicates any uncertainty in her tone that may have been left. “Go get yourself some rest. I will handle the situation from here.” She starts to turn around before even listening to a response, facing the dancing fire as she teleports a quill pen and parchment before her.

“Of course.” Simple words from a mare who preferred simplicity. She sighs over the dull pain in her body, hobbling forward on three hooves while a few more of her simple words brew. “Actually—I’ve been thinking about that… About resting, I mean.”

The scratching of pen tip along paper suddenly comes to a stop, and Celestia turns her profile to listen further. Moon Dust grimaces before carrying on. “I think that… after this whole thing is over, and Princess Twilight is returned—I think that it might be time for me to lay low awhile. Think some things over.”

The fire crackles warmly in the quiet lull of conversation. “Is that so?” Celestia casually replies.

There are a few twitches of discomfort in the pegasus’s face, as she stares onward at her confident leader, and the dance of the flames behind her. “...Celestia.” She swallows a particularly uncomfortable knot in her throat. “I can’t do this forever.”

Moon Dust then waits patiently for an answer. An answer from the mare whom she’d worked under for countless years, the mare who had only ever brought dirty work to be done. An answer she hadn’t dared asked for—until now.

“...As you said. Princess Twilight is returned safely, and then perhaps we can have that discussion.”

Moon Dust’s tired eyes sink slowly to the carpet. Her wet mane dangles as she nods her head obediently, and before her mouth opens to play its part.

“Of course.” She says with faux conviction.

* * *

The vehicle’s heavy chassis moans as Cave brings it to a stop, in a spot where the ground has rare reprise from the rocky terrain surrounding it. There are trees dotted around the car as well, a fairly new sight for their southern odyssey. Nonetheless, both creatures inside the vehicle suffer from flakey, reddened skin, and lips that had been chapped something fierce.

Cave turns the engine off, and straightens his posture to see a little more past the dirty glass in front of him. “This is the place.” He grumbles through a dried throat.

Twilight Sparkle lifts her head up from her side of the car. Out in the craggy wilderness before her, the only landmark that stands out is a tall—and seemingly endless—iron fence. It stretches infinitely out into the distance beyond her door window, and is swallowed by the early rising sun on the opposite side.

“I know you’re not interested in hearing me talk,” Cave says while opening his door. “So I’ll make this quick.” He reaches under the seat, and pulls out the silver gun he’d threatened Copper Mills with. With urgency, he begins to open the cylinder and blow debris out of the chambers, while Twilight stares blankly from her side of the car. “...I spent a lot of time down here as a kid—on account of my father being mostly out of my life, then.” He blows straight down the barrel of the gun, and a puff of dirt fires out of the other end. “My cousin and I would get lost out here, scrounging around for gems, or—you know, bones or whatever. Eventually, we run so far from the house that we end outside of that fence out there—” He points forward with a dirty claw. “—and like you might expect kids to, we find a way inside. Despite the warnings posted everywhere along the perimeter, of course.”

The diamond dog pauses for a moment, neither working on his revolver, nor telling his tale. His eyes shift back and forth as if perhaps lost in thought; or, perhaps he had deluded himself into thinking that Twilight might join the conversation. She does not.

“What we found inside had—no meaning to a couple of kids out to break bottles like we were.” Cave carries on. While holding the gun to the side, he reaches behind the seats for a glass jar of dark liquid—though, this one is much smaller than the rest. He gently places it on the floor between him and the alicorn, and unscrews the lid so that he can access the substance with a rag. “But even if it had… by the time we went back home, we’d already gotten sick with something those signs out there warned us about. The ones we ignored.” As he continues, he begins to rub the metal components of his weapon with the damp rag. “...I spent six weeks in the hospital that summer, vomiting and excreting in the bed I was bound to. Doctors didn’t even think I was going to live. My cousin didn’t...” A brief twitch in Twilight’s brow is all the indication she gives of a response. Before long, Cave reaches below him once more, and continues his story while retrieving a clawful of cartridges. “Like I said, I was too stupid at the time to understand what was going on here, and all I ever heard about this place was that it was containment for some, arcane anomaly.” The first round is loaded into the gun. “But I know now. A spell like that doesn’t come about accidentally.” Another round. “It was written. A desperate cover-up.” Third and fourth shells. “...And I’m just the lucky son of a bitch who it failed to eradicate.”

The car grows quiet after his long rant, save the sound of the last two cartridges being put into their chambers. Still with a dull, unamused expression on her face, Twilight watches them go in, then looks up at the gun’s owner. “Cave.” She croaks, her vocal chords quite a bit rusty. “There is no reason left for me to believe anything you say.” The creature in question pauses his work, and simply stares at the mare next to him. “...And I have nothing left to say to you.”

Cave’s jaw tightens. He nods silently, and gives a blank look to the loaded weapon in his lap. “Be that as it may… we’re going in there.” He murmurs back to Twilight. “Then you won’t have to believe me—and the ruins will do the talking.”

The words settle on Twilight’s ears with head-turning curiosity. She watches as Cave snaps the cylinder closed on his revolver, then quickly navigates outside of the vehicle, leaving the open jar on the floor behind. He puts the gun down on the corner of the hood, just above one of the headlamps, before approaching the iron fence and dropping onto all-fours.

Twilight lets her morbid curiosity get the better of her, and soon enough follows the diamond dog outside of the car after he starts to dig. He claws through the dirt with unbelievable speed, a small pile of rocks and debris growing around his hind legs.

The vibrant morning sun projects a glint off of the weapon atop the car. Twilight’s eyes are dragged there for a moment, and the near distance she has with the gun doesn’t go unnoticed. Even with Cave distracted, however, grabbing the revolver would do little good for the mare with her horn and wings bound.

Cave works tirelessly until a small, crooked opening is dug underneath the fence. He stands up and wipes his brow, returning to the car while Twilight stands frozen in a trance. Her head starts to sag a little, staring down at the hole with soft eyes, and a million thoughts racing behind them.

A dark object suddenly occludes the princesses’s vision. She instinctively throws a hoof up to block it, preventing the mask from being applied to her head.

“Easy—” Cave says, voice muffled behind his gas mask. “—It’s for your own protection.” Twilight’s hoof stays over her muzzle, but her lips remain sealed without protest. “I don’t care if you believe my story or not, you’re not going in there without protection.”

The two remained still for a moment. Cave has one of his arms around Twilight’s neck, and his other claw holding the mask against her as she recoils like a house cat. Eventually however, her muscles relax, and she lowers her forehoof off of her muzzle so that Cave can continue. He sweeps her mane back with his dark claws, and firmly pushes the mask over her face. Twilight winces as he tightens the straps on the back of her head, but remains obedient all the same.

“Here,” Cave mentions, pressing his paw over the filter on the mask. “breath in for me.”

The mare eyes Cave from behind the thick glass lenses, before inhaling as she’d been instructed to. As the diamond dog nods and pulls his paw away, he quickly transfers it to his chest amidst stifling a cough, stepping back toward the car. Suddenly more conscious of her heavy breathing, Twilight watches Cave pick up the gun once more and motion at the fresh hole in the ground.

“You first.” He says.

The hot desert sun begins to make its ascent as the two creatures head inward, passing under the gate littered with warnings, and trudging across the sparse dried grass and rocky hills before them. It was clear now that they had passed through the harshest stretch of Equestria, with the occasional shade of a gnarled tree or a cool breeze reminding the princess. And throughout this final leg of the journey, she doesn’t bother sparing a single word with her captor.

Eventually, this silent trek is halted, as Cave extends an arm out to stop the alicorn. He nods at the plain hill before them, where a modest sized boulder rests under a wide tree canopy. “That’s the spot…” He says, eyes fixated on the zenith of the hill. One of his dirty arms reaches behind his head to test the tension on the mask’s straps, before he lumbers forward with Twilight trailing behind.

A hawk flies overhead as the two clamor to the top of the hill, cawing loud enough for it to echo around the valley. Cave is the first to the top, and he pauses there until Twilight can catch up. And when she does, the valley’s secret begins to reveal itself.

The land before Twilight is littered with the remains of an ancient city. Rows of stone pyramids guide Twilight’s eyes to what appears to have been a large town square, which itself rests at the foot of the largest structure: a towering, multi-tiered pyramid that overlooks the forgotten city.

Even if her lips remain sealed, the wonder in Twilight’s eyes simply cannot be hidden. She was staring at a human settlement.

“You probably know more about this place more than I do, but,” Cave says next to the alicorn, suddenly pointing to the top of the massive stone pyramid. “up there is where we’re headed. Where something’s being kept.”

Twilight focuses on the top of the distant temple, at the head of an uncountable flight of stairs. There’s a strange glint up there, shining like a luring beacon as the sun’s light reflects off of it. Even so, the two creatures on the hill are much too far to make out what the actual object is.

“Come on.” Cave directs. “We shouldn’t spend too long out here.”

Princess Twilight is no longer hesitant to follow directions. She hurries alongside Cave as they head toward the central buildings, under the call of that bright glint almost every step of the way. An unshakable, foreboding presence falls over Twilight as they pass by homes that have long since outlasted their owners, now housing nothing more than dust and bones. The city could’ve once easily rivaled Canterlot’s population, given the sheer size.

At the start of their journey, the sun was merely peaking over the distant horizon. After nearly completing their ascent up the side of the temple, however, the sun looms large just over the hills, and its warm rays are free to flood the valley below.

Twilight shuffles up one of the last flights of stairs with a sickly look on her face. Sweat pours down her pale coat, and the breathing through her nostrils is heavy and agitated. The sweet reprise of a resting spot on her right draws her attention away, where a tree had grown through the cracks of the pyramid, and provides a small but enticing amount of shade. It’s the last spot like that before the top.

Neither creature stops—and even in her exhausted state, Twilight knows it’s better that way. The end of their journey was simply too close.

Cave is the first one over the final step, and stands to the side to catch his breath as Twilight follows. The princess wanders close to the shining object with wide eyes, and her heart racing. It’s almost immediately familiar to her.

She turns around to look at Cave, begging for an explanation with a startled gaze, yet still refusing to break her vow of silence.

Cave offers a simple nod. “It’s exactly what you think it is…”

The radiant glow of the crystal calls Twilight’s attention back, and she stares upon its dark, jagged form in wonder. Mist pours around its pedestal just as the one in her memory had—the one deep within the archives below Canterlot. The only difference was that while the one at home had shined with a reflectant azure blue, the crystal before her now is stained with a powerful, deep violet. Like a piece of the cosmos had been frozen and dragged down to Earth.

“When I saw that you were heading the human history decoding project, I couldn’t shake the image of this thing from my head…” Cave steps over the cracks and tufts of grass growing through them, letting the silver gun in his paw sag with his limp arm. He watches the slow pouring of chilled mist surround the crystal, before lowering his attention to a small marker beneath it. A cloud of dust is brushed into the air as he wipes his hindpaw over it, revealing the short message left embedded there.

‘We will be better.’ it simply reads.

The diamond dog scoffs. “...I knew Celestia would never let the whole truth out. Not her style.” Crouching down squeezes a sigh out of Cave, before he nods and looks solemnly down at the plaque before him. The fine golden letters have a dull shine to them, even now. “Looks like she didn’t have it in her to destroy the truth either.” He glances up at the floating crystal that now towers over him. “Guess she didn’t expect us to find it, huh Princess?”

No voice answers Cave. He glances back over his shoulder, back to where the alicorn once stood in awe of the crystal. But now, she had simply disappeared.

“Twilight?” Cave calls out, placing a paw on the temple stone to help himself up. His head swivels around in search of the mare, but to no avail. “Twilight?” He shouts again.

Cave’s voice drifts out into the wind, distracting Twilight’s attention for just a moment. She hugs the temple wall behind her closely, using the sole tree she had discovered earlier as visual cover while her heart rate increases. The straps on the back of her mask are pushed about as she digs the tip of a forehoof under them, until eventually they’re loose enough for her to remove the gas mask entirely. She holds it facedown in her forehooves, holding one of two cup-like indents for the eyes close under her chin. With her eyes squinted, and her cheeks puffed, she then finally opens her lips to spew forth the dark liquid she had been carrying around in her mouth: oil.

It fills one of the mask’s eyes generously, almost spilling over. Twilight spits a few times to clear as much of it out of her mouth as possible, not hesitating as she dips a forehoof into the viscous substance. She stirs it around in there, then pulls her painted hoof back out and begins to rub it vigorously along her horn. It doesn’t take long for it to start shining with a black coat, enveloping both the bone and the thick pink straps wrapped over it.

After a couple splashes of oil with her hoof, and a few failed attempts to yank one of the straps off, Twilight arches her back against the slanted trunk of the tree and pours the rest of the liquid over her head. Her breathing accelerates as she drops the mask and starts frantically scraping at the base of the strap, mane a mess and eyes squinted close to avoid the oil getting into them. Eventually, she can feel the strap budge, and she plants both forehooves on her horn to desperately chase that breakthrough.

Her efforts pay off—and the first strap is removed with a wet tug. Thankfully, her celebration is kept short, and Twilight uses a strong pulse of magic to help tear off the second.

The alicorn’s knees buckle as she falls to the ground beneath her and endures a fierce coughing fit. Most of the residue that comes up out of her throat is a blackened sludge, dripping from her mouth slowly in long, wavering strands.

“Twilight?” Cave’s voice calls out once more, this time with more urgency and sounding much closer. Princess Twilight whips her head toward the stairs, and spits another glob before stumbling to her hooves. The leaves of the low-hanging tree rattle as she bursts from underneath it, cutting Cave’s path off, and immediately yanking the gun from his grasp with violet magic.

The two face one another a mere six feet apart, standing along the ruined steps of their creators.

“What did you do?” Cave rambles, fearful eyes glued to Twilight. “Put your mask back on, please—”

The diamond dog begins to descend down the steps, but is halted by the steel barrel of his gun being raised against him. “STAY BACK!” Princess Twilight shouts. A dark splatter still stains the coat on her face, and a long strand of saliva is only severed when she lifts an elbow to wipe at it. “Don’t come any closer!”

Cave freezes, lifting his paws just far enough up for the mare to see the pads underneath. “...Twilight, please—I didn’t come all this way just to watch you die from some spell.”

“Shut up.” The alicorn barks in return. She motions toward the top of the temple with a nod, and flexes her newly freed magic to shake the revolver. “Turn around.”

At this point, Cave’s options are few; and with his breath shaky and his pupils dilated, he simply nods and does as he’s told. A shrill cry pierces the sky above as he does so, perhaps from the same hawk who’d circled the sacred grounds earlier. Outside of the pair’s rugged breathing, it’s the only noise in the valley.

“...Now walk back up. Slowly.” Twilight demands. Once more, Cave remains obedient.

The pair reaches the top once again, Cave trudging back to the crystal with a distraught, and shaken Princess Twilight behind him. “That’s enough.” She says, standing behind Cave who himself faces the monument. The gun is kept upright, pointed straight at Cave’s back and hovering gently in a field of glistening magic.

Princess Twilight’s lips tremble. “I can’t believe I—” She inhales a shaky breath, desperate to maintain control. “—that I started to trust you.”

Cave quietly waits.

Her eyes begin to grow a little red, but with another steady breath and a confident nod, Twilight wrangles her strength back. She’d need it. “...How many creatures have you killed, Cave?” She asks softly.

The dust and roots stuck in the cracks below hold onto Cave’s solemn gaze like it’s the only thing to exist. He wavers gently in the breeze there, until Twilight’s voice once again strikes out from behind.

“Answer me!” She says. Her growing impatience is marked by a bright flare up of her magic.

“...Fourteen.” Cave murmurs, thankful to be facing away from the princess.

Twilight’s next breath isn’t as controlled as the others. With her focus disrupted, the barrel of the floating gun is dragged down a few inches; but only until her eyes go sharp and an unfamiliar snarl begins to reveal itself.

“...Give me one reason why I shouldn’t stop you from ever hurting somepony again…”

Despite the circumstances, Twilight’s threat is delivered in the lawful and concise tone of a powerful ruler. It instills a cocktail of shame and fearful feelings in Cave. “I don’t—” He stammers, swallowing the knot in his throat before turning a sliver of his profile. “I don’t have one…”

Angered, but patient nonetheless, Twilight stands firm with her weapon raised, and waits for Cave’s further explanation.

“All this was ever about was getting you here... I never planned for anything past that.” He says, his profile still tilted toward the mare behind him. “Now that my part is done, all I ask of you is that you see this through...”

Twilight’s eyes follow Cave’s arm as he gestures weakly to the crystal before them. “We don’t know anything about what’s in there...” She comments. The gentle swaying of the pearlescent onyx mineral calls out to her with a chilling, otherworldly summons. “...Did you ever consider that it might have been banished for a good reason?”

Bolder than before, Cave pivots so that more of his face is revealed to Twilight, and answers her on heavy breath. “...That’s not her decision to make.” He says.

The comment stirs hesitation in the young princess, who’s brow scrunches tighter. Her dry throat swallows, and her eyes dance between the prisoner and the crystal before she settles on a decision. “Listen to me closely, Cave. We’re—”

The gentlest sound of a hoof clopping against the stone behind Twilight suddenly interrupts her, and she spins herself and the gun around impulsively. There, at the top of the steps approaches Princess Celestia, who grimaces and covers herself with an extended wing.

“Twilight—don’t!” She shouts. The barrel is dropped away from Celestia as Twilight’s own magic lowers the gun, and her senses start to return. Even so, her heart pounds as a scurrying sound now resonates from the other side of the temple.

Twilight whips her head back around and squints as she lifts the gun up to defend herself. The trigger is pulled, and the world is torn asunder with a sharp, deafening crack. A cloud of smoke initially blocks the mare’s view, until it rolls gently along with the breeze, and it reveals a scene impossible for Twilight’s brain to even comprehend.

There’s a fur-lined leg that protrudes out of the crystal’s mist. Twilight walks toward it slowly, keeping a close eye on the dirty paw pads underneath, but not detecting any movement. At least not until she stands right over it, and the ethereal fog begins to clear.

Cave lies out on the temple stone, face down, and writhing slowly. His arms and legs shift awkwardly, as Twilight’s wide eyes move toward the creature’s back. There in the upper right side is a small hole, where the fur surrounding it has turned red, and the dark pit pushes out more blood with each of Cave’s pained shifts.

Twilight simply stands over the harrowing scene—still shaking, and deafened from the shot. It isn’t until her mentor slowly raises a hoof to Twilight’s shoulder, that she’s torn out of her paralyzation.

“Twilight…”

With labored breathing, Cave chokes quietly inside of his mask. His face remains out of view.

“Twilight.” Princess Celestia says once more, edging closer to her star pupil. She pulls her neck away from the scene, gently, but with enough persuasion to yank Twilight from her stupor. “Twilight—” Celestia nods toward the wounded diamond dog on the ground. “—there’s no reason for him to suffer like this.”

Princess Twilight barely understands the words on her mentor’s lips. She remains frozen in place as Celestia cautiously steps forward, and uses a golden field of magic to remove Cave’s gas mask. His panicked and shallow breathing is left to pierce the open air, as the blood beneath him finally begins to pool through the surrounding stone cracks.

Calm. Princess Celestia always looked so calm. Just as the first day she had brought Twilight to her School for Gifted Unicorns—just as now, as she turns back toward her and asks the impossible. With no more than a look.

The gun, which had nearly sank to the ground in Twilight’s frazzled levitation, once again rises. This time it’s enveloped in a predominantly golden aura, until its barrel is once again pointed at Cave, and Celestia steps out of the way. Still shocked and bleary-eyed, Twilight simply stands in the wind while holding Cave’s life in her hooves.

“You’re ending a creature’s misery.” Princess Celestia says softly, her wing wrapped around the younger alicorn. “That is all this is.”

Not a muscle in Twilight’s body moves. She looks onward, at the fleeting life before her, as his head turns against the weathered stone. He looks back, and his eyes dart with fear and confusion the likes of which Twilight had never seen. He doesn’t even notice the thin rope of blood that’s coughed up, and left to pour slowly into the pool beneath him. Like a husk with nothing left but impulse.

For Twilight, the weight of the trigger feels immense this time. It takes a dreadfully long time to pull, and a heart-stopping instant to watch the flash. When the smoke clears, no movement remains.

Before Twilight’s eyes can settle too long on the aftermath, Princess Celestia steps in once more and easily takes the gun. She puts herself between Cave and Twilight, covering the view of the body, and speaking face-to-face with her student—Calmly.

“Twilight, listen to me. It’s done.” She punctuates this with a hoof resting gently on the other mare’s shoulder. “Now you need to get away from this place. I will teleport you to safety, and when I do—” She pauses to reveal a strange glass vial. “—you need to drink this. You need to drink all of it, do you understand me?”

A few rapid shutters of Twilight’s eye lids clear her brain enough to register the request. She stares up at Celestia while her oil-stained mouth hangs agape, nodding slowly and absentmindedly.

“Twilight, please. I need to hear you say it.” Celestia remarks firmly. “You must drink everything in this vial; do you understand?”

Twilight’s weak nodding becomes more animated, and her chapped lips purse to form a response. “Y-yes. I understand.”

A soft wet tickle on Celestia’s hind leg briefly draws her attention to the creek of blood behind her, but not for more than an instant. She turns back to her student unphased, and nods in affirmation. “Good.” She says, before passing the vial over. “I’m only going to be gone for a moment. Do not go anywhere until I arrive.”

The thick azure liquid glows against Twilight’s chest as it’s pushed there by Celestia, Twilight instinctively clutching it with a hoof. She brings her head back up to stare in confusion and even begin to stutter another question—but not before Celestia’s magic consumes her. In an instant, the young alicorn is gone, and Princess Celestia is left alone with the lifeless body behind her. She doesn’t hesitate to lift it with shimmering magic.

With the sun crawling to its apex behind her, Celestia soon finds herself standing over a large pit dug out of the ancient grounds. She looks down at the dusty revolver held in her levitation, breaking the cylinder off effortlessly, and tossing the harmless parts into the dirt. Then she turns to the vehicle on her right—and the diamond dog slumped over in it.

A powerful push of magic rolls the car into its shallow grave, shared only by Cave in its front seat. The metal creaks and moans as it’s swallowed by the pit, crashing into the bottom where it would remain forever. No words are spared. No prayer said. Cave’s head hangs despondently over his lifeless body, slouched behind the steering wheel and helpless to stop the slow shower of dirt. The vehicle and its sole passenger are eventually given to the earth entirely.

Twilight turns the empty vial over in her magic slowly, as Celestia finally reappears behind her. She turns to face her elder, and finds herself either still too shaken or simply too tired to ask a single question. Not that she can imagine it would make much of a difference.

Princess Celestia stands tall over Twilight, as her iridescent mane blows freely in the hot desert air. “We’re going home.” She says.

* * *

The theatrical voice of a middle-aged mare reverberates around the bustling streets of Canterlot. She shuffles around the (mostly disinterested) ponies who pass along beside her, spreading her ramblings to them, and periodically pointing to the thin wooden sign hoisted around her neck.

Next to the commotion are sales stands of all kinds—newspapers, beverages and flowers. Ponies engage in commerce on the corners while others eat in fenced dining areas, catch up with their friends, and occasionally shoot a concerned glance at the rather loud sign touting mare. And she isn’t the only reason to glance; A large wagon is parked on the street there, and packing up items from the once popular tourist attraction behind it.

Lyra Heartstrings walks casually down the street toward her restaurant. She makes a passing glance at the mare heckling a young couple, ‘THEY NEVER LEFT’ visible in bright red letters on her sign. She ignores this scene, and instead gets as close as she can to the ruined building there on the corner.

Caution tape and a band of workers prevent her from actually stepping inside, but from the appearance of shattered glass and splintered wood, it looks as if she has no reason to venture in anyway. Tables and chairs toppled. Kitchen appliances strewn about. Even the backlit menu over the bar had been smashed to pieces, the combos and drinks once familiar to Lyra now left completely illegible.

“Watch it!” A dark orange stallion groans to his coworker, as the two of them hoist a large, battered object into the back of the wagon. Lyra instantly recognizes the dangling tonearm and shattered disc carousel… the machine that her and a friend once stood before, comforted by its warm, vibrant lights.

Dr. Heartstrings drops her head toward the sidewalk and sighs. She doesn’t bother watching more of the wrecked furniture being tossed into the pile, and instead turns to walk down along the street. She passes by the chatty street vendors with a few weak smiles and nods, but leaves her old restaurant to only be watched over by the crew cleaning it—and the eccentric mare who still patrols the sidewalks around it.

“THE HUMANS SIMPLY MUST STILL BE OUT THERE! AND WE CAN FIND THEM!” She cries out, as Lyra slowly vanishes into the distance crowds.

* * *

The rolling clouds and singing birds drift over the green hills below, where the peak of Twilight’s castle is only just visible on the distant southern horizon. A group of construction ponies work around a large wooden frame on the crest of a hill, calling to one another over the sounds of hammers and the occasional saw.

A pair of familiar ponies catch Apple Bloom’s eye. She turns away from her work, and holds a hoof up to her hard hat to correct the way it had been sagging. One of the familiar faces, a freckled earth pony, gestures for her to come over with a wave in the air. Apple Bloom briefly wipes her brow before stepping aside.

“Hey, kiddo!” Mint Julep says first, still far from Applejack’s bond with her sister—but as sincere and well meaning as ever. “You must be the mare in charge of things around here, huh?”

Apple Bloom playfully scoffs. “Yeah. Something like that.” She replies with a sarcastic tone. Even as Mint Julep chuckles politely, Apple Bloom can’t help but look over at the mare next to him. Applejack is standing there amidst the wildflowers and rays of sun, and smiling just as warmly—even if her eyes crease with a certain unspoken sadness.

“How’re you doing, Apple Bloom?”

The younger sibling nods gently, forced to correct the crooked hat once again anyway. “Pretty good, Sis’.”

A quiet lull takes hold of the conversation, the nearby sounds of construction filling the gap. Not unnoticed by him, Mint Julep chips at the ground awkwardly with a forehoof. “...Sooo, I couldn’t help but notice that you guys have an ice cream stand setup over there,” He motions to the hill over yonder. “what do you say, huh?” He lifts a hoof to A.J. first. “Vanilla with chocolate syrup and nuts, and…” Then to Apple Bloom. “...mint chocolate chip, right?”

Apple Bloom titters and leans her head. “Uh… I don’t know if I should be taking too much time…” She looks over her shoulder, noticing the frizzy-maned pink silhouette carelessly doing cartwheels along the frame of the roof. “...but, uh—yeah, mint chocolate chip.”

Another smile and laugh from Mint Julep, while he nods in affirmation. “Three cones, coming right up.”

The stallion turns in the grass to take his leave, and head for the hill beyond. The two mares, then, are left to catch up and discuss with one another privately.

After a deep breath, Applejack is first to begin. “So, does this feel like somethin’ you might be interested in? Building houses, and whatnot, I mean?” She asks.

“Not sure yet.” Apple Bloom is quick to reply. “I mean, I like working with Pinkie. She pretty much lets us do whatever we want, and she always has snacks for us.”

While worth a laugh, the comment is hardly surprising to A.J. “I bet she does, yeah.”

The younger mare has more to say, but this time it takes a little while to find the words. Her eyes flitter about as she watches the waving grass and flowing petals around the two of them. “...And I guess… I guess it feels good to be a part of the beginning of something, you know? Something you know will be around for a while.”

Applejack smiles warmly at her sister. “Yeah. ...I think I do.”

Silence returns to the hillside, as A.J. looks compassionately at her kin, studying the bright and familiar eyes of a foal—even if the rest of her body had grown nearly beyond recognition. “Apple Bloom…” She coos, just barely loud enough for the wind to carry her voice. “...You know you can go see Blue, if you like. I can talk to his mother, if need be.”

“Oh,” The young mare replies. “I, uh…”

Applejack stumbles back into the conversation to further explain herself. “It’s just—I don’t want you thinkin' that I don’t trust you, is all.”

“Sis’.” Apple Bloom states plainly. “It’s alright. ...We’re good.” She gently slides a forehoof up to nudge A.J.’s. There’s a band strapped down there, holstering a pouch full of nails. “Right?”

A floral-tinged breeze blows through the farm pony’s mane as she looks up to match Apple Bloom’s optimism. She nods slowly. “Yeah—” She clears her throat after enduring a small croak. “We’re good.”

Apple Bloom steps back again, giving her sister some space and glancing skyward. As beautiful as the meadow is, the scene is far from complete without the canvas above them. “So,” Apple Bloom begins, giving them something else to talk about. “I know it’s not home, but—you have to admit…” She waves a hoof toward the sky. “...It’s a heckuva sight, isn’t it?”

Applejack takes a deep sigh to shake off the residual emotions, and turns to stare at the heavens above. “You’re right.” It’s a simple moment, but one that brings a genuine smile to her lips all the same. “It is.”

While mostly a cloudless sky, one rather large expanse of clouds looms overhead, casting a massive shadow on the hills in the distance. The silhouettes of grand architecture—pillars, arches, homes, and even of a colossal stadium sit nestled in the floating bastion. Pegasai can just barely be seen flying around the architecture, weaving in and out of the airborne marvel. A city to have claimed the skies.

* * *

Moon Dust bites into her lip as she peels her bandaging off in front of the mirror, the cloth run through with dried blood. Underneath is a dispiriting scene—one of the stitches had torn itself loose, and the deep cut into her hoof had begun to split open once more at the end. The pegasus winces as she inspects the pink flesh exposed to the open air.

The mirror over the bathroom sink creaks as Moon Dust swings it open, rifling through the cabinet’s contents carelessly. She passes over the extra bandages, scissors, several pill bottles and ointments, until she comes across what’s sought after: a surgical sutures kit.

A couple of fallen pill bottles rattle down in the sink basin as Moon Dust pulls her equipment out, and begins removing the metal instruments. She grunts as she cranes her neck to place her needle holder aside, next beginning to remove a line of sutures thread. Her process is interrupted shortly thereafter, by a loud knock on her door.

Moon Dust releases a strained sigh as she pushes herself to the bathroom door, passing through and hobbling down the hall. There are no picture frames along the walls—no hanging plants, nor paintings. Her apartment is small, and dimly lit. A few old and rundown pieces of furniture in the living room, and an unmanaged stack of dirty dishes in the kitchen sink. The depressing state of things isn’t helped by the blinds being drawn over the living room’s sole window, leaving only a dull, dusty orange light left to bleed through.

A second knock, and Moon Dust finds herself peering through the small door viewer to the outside. After that, she shambles back and strains to release the sliding bolt up top, the deadbolt on the handle, and finally disarm a line of rope that’s rigged to a hanging cluster of glass bottles. The door opening brings with it a torrent of sunlight, forcing her to squint at the newcomer.

It’s a royal guard—a thick envelope held in his telekinesis. “From Princess Celestia…” He recites in a commanding voice.

Moon Dust nods silently and reaches forward to grasp it in her teeth. Once she turns around, she doesn’t bother sparing another moment for the guard, and kicks the door closed behind her.

The kitchen light comes on as Moon Dust shoulders the switch, providing enough light for her to lay out the package and inspect its contents. The royal seal is unmistakable; this was prepared by the princess herself. The only other identification on the outside is Moon Dust’s name, penned gorgeously with spiraling characters in the center, the perfection of which was uncommon even among unicorns.

Moon Dust rips the top of the envelope off with her teeth, carelessly tossing the scraps, and dumping the contents onto the kitchen table. Curiously, this envelope doesn’t include a letter at all. The only thing that falls out is a bundle of thick paper, neatly folded over something inside. The pegasus unfurls this paper, so that the object it once housed lays plainly out in view, and glistens under the hanging kitchen light.

It’s a new hair stick. Expertly crafted, and wickedly sharp. The metal reflects a square of light over Moon Dust’s eye, who looks down at the weapon like it barely exists, and her empty glance pierces straight through.

A powerful message from Celestia, despite her never having written a word of it.

* * *

“Aegis Coldweather—” Justice Raine commands attention from the stallion standing below her, and the scattered group of ponies sitting in the pews behind him. This includes his wife, who watches the scene unfold with wide eyes and a lacy white handkerchief held in her levitation, as well as a much younger looking unicorn stallion who sits next to her.

The mare at the head of the courtroom drops the folded corner of a document back down onto her podium, adjusts her glasses, and then once more calls out to the stallion on trial. “Aegis, I have gone over the evidence provided by Captain Rainbow Dash and the Equestrian Special Forces, as has the team of experts assembled for this trial to help do so.” Rainbow watches quietly from her spot on the benches, curious, if not a bit tired. “As per Equestrian law, that evidence, and the events that transpired around it, of which were re-accounted to the best abilities of the aforementioned team, was finally presented to a panel of jurors. I have the results of their sessions here with me.” As she says this, a dark crimson field of her magic lifts up the top most document to be read. “Their verdict will determine your fate.”

Before Justice even begins to read the resolution, Aegis’s wife can be heard stifling a cry from the back of the large room. “To the charge of illegal importation of goods,” The judge begins. “Aegis Coldweather, you have been found guilty.” The crying in the back grows louder. “To the charge of possession of illegal and dangerous weaponry, you have been found guilty. You will serve your time in a Canterlot prison of no less than twelve months. After your time has been served, you may return to civilian life with the explicit endorsement of authorities deeming you safe to do so. ‘Sol et luna’. Praise Equestria.”

With a somber nod of understanding, the bearded stallion who’s life had just been judged takes one final look at his family. His wife had already broken into tears, and the young unicorn next to her is focused only on consoling the middle-aged mare. Aegis forces a broken smile, and turns to walk from the courtroom where his fate awaits him.

For Rainbow Dash, none of it manages to stir a single reaction from her.

Dash leaves the courtroom shortly after Aegis, and meanders her way through the ivory marble halls until she reaches the nearby courtyard; the same one she recently peered over with Dominus, in fact. She shuffles over to a wrought iron bench, and lays upon its seat with the hearty sigh of an exhausted, aimless mare. In her defeat of The Equestrians’ leader, she had expected to find resolution. But the reality was much more mundane—and instead, the young pegasus could only think about the tiresome months of work she had sacrificed for her cause. All to feel… anything.

Rainbow Dash lays back into the bench. Her tired eyes rest on a pair of pegasai above—a mare and stallion. The mare clumsily guides a white cloud along the open skies, as the stallion’s stifled snickering turns into a gleeful laugh shared with her. He comes in close as their laughter tapers off, and helps push the misplaced cloud onward to its proper destination, opening the atmosphere to embrace only the vivid rays of sunlight, and the painterly streaks of cyan.

Blinking slowly, Dash watches the scene as if it were a lullaby.

* * *

The small room is lit spectacularly by a gentle cold light, and the dance of a dozen miniature stars. Dr. Heartstrings absentmindedly peruses the map of these digital stars, guiding the machine that projects them with the coaxing of her magic. Even as mostly meaningless clusters of light, she could never quite tear herself from the lure of its mystery.

The sole door in the room suddenly opens slowly. In walks Princess Twilight, who is lit in trim linings by the machine’s glow. She notices the unicorn on the opposite side of the room, and can’t help but casually snort at the discovery.

“I figured I could find you here.” Twilight says.

Lyra glances over, but only briefly before continuing to idly swipe through the illegible data. “Yep.” She replies plainly.

Lyra’s indifference doesn’t go unnoticed by the princess. After all, she hadn’t left things on the best note last they had talked. “Lyra, I… I’m sorry I didn’t come see you as soon as I returned.” She drifts a little closer to the projection of light. “...I thought about this moment a lot. About what I could say to you. The truth is… I’m not sure I ever found the right words to say.” She stops just before the astral-like projection can paint her muzzle. “...But I should have come to you sooner.”

Lyra rolls her head over in her hoof, which is propped against the machine, so that she can inspect the sincerity in the other mare’s eyes. She hesitates—letting the moment draw out while Twilight no doubt prepares for whatever she had coming to her.

“...Are you pretty familiar with human proverbs?” Lyra finally asks.

Confused, Twilight can’t help but smirk at the question. “Of course.” She replies.

“Alright, good. I have a little story to tell, then.” Still just as lost, but intrigued all the same, Princess Twilight settles in while takes a deep breath in through her nostrils. “So there are these two human guys, right? And one of them is a scientist, and the other is a farmer. And despite the massive difference in their careers, the two of them are great friends, and spend a good chunk of their free time together. Particularly, they like to sit by a lake on the farmer’s property, eating sandwiches and drinking beer or whatever it is humans did. They’d joke, and tell stories, or maybe complain about their jobs to one another. And every day when this happened, the farmer would make sure to let his horses out with them, and they’d drink alongside the two men at the lake.”

Lyra pauses, but only long enough to glance at the confused expression on her colleague, and to swipe to a new cluster of lights in the crystal’s projection. “Now,” She continues. “one day, the scientist comes with some exciting news for the two to discuss. ‘We’ve cracked it!’ He says. ‘The secret to designing intelligent life! And with equine test subjects, no less!’ ...But the farmer isn’t having any of it. He shakes his head, and throws his hands into the air in frustration. ‘Bah!’ He says. ‘It’ll never happen!’ The scientist persists. He talks about the test results, and the documents, and the manpower behind the project. But it doesn’t matter—the farmer doesn’t budge on the issue. ‘I’ve been around horses my entire life.’ The farmer says, as he peers out to his herd by the lake. ‘And if there’s one thing I know about them, it’s that you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t get them to think!’’”

A ridiculous smile is left on Lyra’s muzzle, but the otherworldly hum of the machine is the only voice in her audience. Slowly, the crooked and confused smirk of Twilight’s grows larger, until she shakes her head and tapers a scoff into a laugh. It wasn’t the first thing she had expected to hear from Lyra, to say the least.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Twilight finally says, while Lyra busts into laughter of her own. “How long did it take for you to think of that?”

“Hey, there wasn’t exactly a whole lot to do in the hospital...” The unicorn responds, slowing down her juvenile chuckle.

Twilight rolls her eyes. “Well… I guess the scientist got the last laugh on that one.” She stares across the hazy blue light at her friend. “Or he would have, had you not found it so funny.”

Lyra breaks into a light chortle once again. “Ah, come on! It was funny!”

A contagious smile can’t be helped as Twilight nods in weak approval. “Sure it was.” She returns softly.

As their laughter dies off, the small space again begins to fall near silent, and the two ponies start to figure it’s time to confront the elephant in the room. Before Twilight can conjure the strength to so, Lyra volunteers.

“I know that you’re worried about things.” She says. “I mean, obviously neither of us appear to be safe. But, I… I don’t think hiding from it is much of an answer. For me at least, you mean too much to me for us to hide.” She breathes in, and stares with soft eyes from across the machine’s projection. “...I’d like to do this for real, Princess.”

Twilight chews her bottom lip anxiously. She nods softly as her eyes glaze over a bit, and she steps close enough that she can put a hoof atop the machine. “...I’d like that too.” She murmurs softly.

Dr. Heartstrings smirks the way she had so long ago in her restaurant, when the pair had just recently met one another. Content on what had already been said, she simply slides her own forehoof along the device, curling it around Twilight’s in a gentle embrace. Their hooves are surrounded by light, but their shadows cut a long shaft of darkness to the ceiling all the same.

* * *

The hustling of assistant ponies muffled on the other side of the wall is something quite familiar to Princess Celestia—but not yet for her newest coruler.

“Five minutes, princesses.” A thin looking stallion announces from the doorway. Twilight looks back at him, then pivots her tired expression back around to the mirror in front of her. The look is surely noticed by Celestia, but when the elder alicorn speaks, she speaks formally and without a hint of concern.

“It hardly even feels like a year has passed, hmm Twilight?”

Princess Twilight remains silent, and her heavy gaze lays toward the floor.

“Trust me,” Celestia continues. “the second millennia of celebrations goes much smoother.” She jests.

The cloud of apathy around Twilight Sparkle fails to recede, and her nostrils flare around the sigh that preludes her thoughts from spilling over.

Celestia finally acknowledges this with a tilted head and a simple question. “Are you alright?” She asks.

Twilight’s lip trembles as she struggles to form her words—even if her response was immediately obvious.

“No.” She gasps.

“Celestia, I don’t sleep. I can’t look at myself, I can barely face my friends… And every night in my dreams, I only ever see him. Bloodied, but still breathing—and his eyes… just…” She pauses to catch her shaky breath, and consider what was important to say in front of Celestia. “...What was he talking about? Was he right about the crystal? What can be so bad about humankind that we can’t even look at it? Did you banish it there?” Her pupils dash back and forth while staring up at the ivory mare. “...Celestia?” She begs for an answer.

Frozen, Princess Celestia stares back with a steely gaze and an unwavering, professional, and iconic smile. “I’m sorry to hear that you haven’t been getting much sleep lately.” The last of the light in Twilight’s eyes vanishes. “I would recommend reading a fair bit right before bed. That usually helps me.”

The princess turns to exit into the hallway, but not before Twilight forces her hanging mouth closed and summons a tone firm enough to surprise herself. “Celestia.” The mare in question stops, and turns to listen. This time however, the smile slips away. “I’m not going to sit in the dark on things anymore. I deserve answers.”

Celestia raises her chin ever so slightly, a needless final measure in dwarfing the violet alicorn before her. “Oh, how you’ve grown, Twilight.”

Her words are quietly vicious—a threat pirouetting as a compliment would.

“Let me remind you of something you clearly seem to have forgotten. We’re still here; the humans are not. This is true for one simple reason: we decided that there are limits to creation. That sometimes the pursuit of knowledge is simply not worth the cost.”

“You decided.” Twilight corrects, drawing a twitch in Celestia’s upper lip. “I didn’t decide to remove the freedom to choose. They certainly didn’t.” The mare fans a hoof over the wall behind them, gesturing to the unseen masses.

“I never took away anypony’s ability to choose.” Princess Celestia bites back. “I took away the wrong choices.”

Twilight heaves an anxious breath, as the intense exchange goes still. Neither mare is willing to say another word. Not until Celestia has had enough of the standoff.

“Now I’m going to go out onto that balcony.” She says, eyes briefly flicking up toward the back wall. “And if you don’t want to stand alongside me today, that is fine. I will have some excuse for your absence. But if you intend to be a leader for them—regardless if you’re with me, or wish to rule alone—you had best learn to play the part. So keep your chin up, your eyes forward, put the past behind you where it belongs and fucking smile.”

Desperate to appear in control, but hopeless against the unsettling circumstances of their conversation, Twilight’s feigned assertion begins to show cracks. The shaken foal underneath would rather be anywhere else on Earth.

“As I said,” Celestia continues with a low, brooding tone. “I am going out there. And if you do not follow within thirty seconds—I will assume that I have simply asked too much of you.”

The room again falls silent for a moment, but only a moment. After it ends, and Twilight is left with her voice caught in her throat, Princess Celestia makes good on her word, and turns to exit through the hall. The numerous voices outside briefly fill the void as she opens the door, only to be muted once more as Twilight is finally left alone.

The room starts to spin around her. Her knees tremble, and her breathing grows rugged as a million thoughts race through her mind. Celestia wasn’t bluffing. She knows this. But as Twilight listens to the muffled sound of applause and looks up to see the exit, she questions whether her legs can even carry her there.

As the applause slowly tapers off, the young princess stumbles to the doorway. She braces herself with a hoof against the wooden frame, and hangs her head while being mindful of the crown she wears. Her eyes swell, and her heart beats wildly against her heaving chest. She wants to release—to break down in tears, or teleport far away from this place. Maybe she could start a new life outside the boundaries of Equestria, and away from the responsibilities of a ruler. Especially away from the responsibilities of one now feeling so unwelcomed.

Twilight takes one last stabilizing breath, and pulls her hoof back so that she can wipe it along her puffy eyes. She stares forward at the door in front of her, straightens her pose and settles her wings, giving the air around a few good flaps. The last piece of her transformation happens on her muzzle, where the wavering corners of her lips tighten and lift, leaving a confident smile to wrap over her cheeks, and crease her attentive, newly-welcoming eyes.

Princess Twilight pushes through the door and travels down the hall, until she steps beyond the curtains, and is lost to a wave of thunderous hoofstomps.

Indivisible

The two princesses stand quietly next to each other, watching the guards work on the flagpole before them. Neither of the alicorns have said a word, opting instead to listen to the distant, unintelligible conversations of the many ponies who called Canterlot their home. It was neither an awkward silence, nor one of comforting embrace. To the princesses, the flagpole could have been the only thing in existence.

“...What does this change?”

The tall, ivory alicorn casts her gaze off to the side of the pole in response; but not quite far enough to reach the younger princess. “Our job remains the same.”

One of the guards places a large wooden box on the ground, gently removing its contents with his magic.

“Last night, at the gathering… It all went so well—and yet, there was a stillness in the air…” The older alicorn turns to watch the violet pony as she finishes her sentiment. “...It felt like I was ending a chapter in my life.”

The princesses return to watching the guards, who had begun mounting the new flag.

“You’re hesitant to start a new chapter.”

The violet pony carefully lowers her head, mindful of the crown she wears. “It feels like just yesterday I became a princess, and now…”

The eyes of the ivory alicorn follow the new flag carefully, as it makes its long ascent to where the old flag still blows gently in the wind. “The prospect of change is often more frightening than the change it actually brings; wouldn’t you agree?”

The young princess briefly watches her mentor, considering her words with much thought. She eventually turns, noticing the new flag to finally be positioned beneath the old.

It was a bold display. The red, white and blue were nearly impossible to ignore, when compared to the pale cloth above it.

A Story by Zvn

Powerful, somewhat haunting chords belt out of the pipe organ at the end of the grand hall, their sound reaching even the most distant corners of the gargantuan room, around tall pillars and poised statues. “The Star Spangled Banner”, Twilight was told it’s named.

The room also held many rows of wooden benches, most of which host only a layer of dust; several near the front, however, are claimed by a hoof-full of ponies from both the city, and the quiet town of Ponyville.

Twilight sits motionlessly at the end of one bench, Celestia and her younger sister, Luna, to the violet alicorn’s left. A quick glance away from the passionate stallion playing the organ, and instead toward her mentor Celestia, draws an honest smile from the ivory pony, to which Twilight happily returns. Her attention is only briefly held when it returns to the organ player, replaced by a glance to her other side, at the benches where her six friends sit. Rainbow Dash had evidently just defeated Pinkie Pie in a game of reaction with their outstretched hooves, Pinkie pouting playfully with her forearms held tightly against her chest, and Applejack chastising the two like a parent trying to manage her foals.

Twilight’s stare is held there much longer than her moment with Celestia, only breaking when the booming notes of the organ come to an end. A frail, elderly stallion shuffles up to the podium facing the many benches in the hall, and the ponies perched on them. A shaky field of levitation shuffles through a stack of papers atop the podium, as the room sits in anticipation, and a touch of impatience. After finding the right document, and clearing his sickly throat, the stallion looks up at his audience, and speaks.

“The Council thanks the staff of the Canterlot Theatre for their performance, the archival services of Canterlot for their continuing efforts, and, of course the princesses—” the eyes of the room turn to the three alicorns sitting next to one another “—for their centuries of leadership, and… courage…” The aging unicorn squints his eyes as he looks closer at the text. “...And their presence today is not merely ceremonial, Princess Celestia herself has prepared a speech reflecting on the—revelations unearthed in the past few months, and the… significance, of the days yet to come.”

The audience stands respectfully as the old pony collects his things and shambles away from the podium, Princess Celestia walking to the front of the room to proceed his introduction.

“Thank you, Councilman Bishop. And thank you all for being here today.” Celestia pauses to look around at the bright faces of her pupils. “Many millennia ago, humanity took its first steps among the grasses and valleys of our world. They were a curious, and brilliant people.” Twilight’s eyes go wide with excitement, despite having heard the story many times before. “They would lead incredible lives, saturated with discovery, art, and accomplishment. They’d tell stories of adventure, mystery, of unseen worlds, created entirely with only pen and an unchallenged imagination. And in the end—before their legacy would be swept away in the maelstrom of time and fate, these beings, would create us.”

A chill settles over the young alicorn who watches with awe as her mentor continues.

“...Today, my children, that legacy once again emerges from the mist. Today… humanity reunites with us.”

Twilight exhales a shaky breath as the audience returns to their hooves and fills the room with a thunderous applause.

* * *

A brilliant sun rises over the jagged peaks of Foal Mountain, an expansive forest engulfing the base of the cliffs, and the city of Baltimare just visible on the horizon. The bright rays blanket all of the land in a serene warmth; little of that light, however, reaches the room nestled at the top of a stone tower, where two individuals stand quietly.

One is an earth pony of the Liberty Guard, his helmet resting on the wooden table before him, his muzzle moving erratically as he uses it to scribble notes onto a piece of parchment. His coat is a forest green, a curly black mane and tail emerging from the ends of his dirty suit of armor. He briefly pauses his writing to mumble quietly to himself, head tilted back in thought as he chews the end of his pen.

The other figure in the room—a diamond dog with a slim build and fur mottled with spots of dirt—leans casually against the metal bars between him and the pony, watching the bright square of light pouring in from the window above them. One arm rests against the metal for support, his paws meeting together in front of his chest as his thumb gently rubs one side of his index finger. He has tired eyes and droopy ears, an unmoving frown settled on his muzzle. The sound of the guard’s pen sliding against his notes draws the diamond dog’s attention away from the light, and a curious look grows in his eyes.

“Looking Glass.”

The pony stops his scrawling, looking over his shoulder to where the voice came from. “Huh?”

The diamond dog shifts his weight so that he can face the guard directly. “Is that your name; Looking Glass?”

The guard hesitates to respond, eyeing the prisoner conspicuously. “How do you know that?”

“I overheard it; downstairs, when you were talking with the other guard.” The emotionless look the prisoner was wearing suddenly gives way to a genuine smile. “I’m Cave.”

Looking Glass continues to stare, eyes still narrowed in suspicion. “I know that.”

Cave half-laughs through a crooked smile. “Right; you brought me in. I just figured… if we’re going to be here for a while—”

“—You just figured you’ll get all friendly with the guy with the keys, is that it?”

The diamond dog takes a step back from the bars, putting his paws up before him. “Hey, I’d just like to have a little conversation somewhere in these next hundred hours.”

Glass scoffs. “Right.” The pony turns his head back toward the table as he continues his conversation with the prisoner. “I’m not a hatchling, buddy, been with the guard for over six years now.”

Cave tilts his head as he leans back in against the bar. “Now see, that sounds a lot nicer than ‘I’ve been laying railroad for the better half of my life’.”

Looking Glass only acknowledges the diamond dog with a brief look over his shoulder. The scribbling of the pen resumes for a short while, Cave relaxing quietly in his cell. Eventually, the sound of writing freezes again, as the earth pony slowly gives in to the urge to turn his profile once more. “That why you did it?”

Cave opens his eyes from a moment of thought, looking between the bars with a puzzled expression. “How’s that?”

“Boredom? ...You got tired of waking up to the same day for twenty years?”

“...Perhaps...”

The diamond dog’s narrow pupils drift down to the stone floor as he mulls over the question. “...There was a strange feeling I got, that morning. Like I hadn’t yet woken from a dream… like… nothing had ever been real. And when the moment came, I felt… everything; come crashing down over me...”

The guard’s dagger-like eyes relax a bit after the prisoner finishes, and he looks up and down Cave’s figure. “We all have to pay our dues. And for those who truly want it; redemption awaits.”

The two make eye contact again as Cave pulls his stare up off of the ground. He silently nods to the pony, who takes the gesture as an understanding, and returns to his work.

* * *

A cool breeze blows through the streets of Ponyville, embracing Princess Twilight as she stands still atop her balcony, simply enjoying the air. The sound of leaves rustling and birds chirping creates a sweet serenade for the alicorn, who shuts her eyes and retreats within herself, feeling the edge of a nap creeping up on her. It only takes the sound of distant knocking to tear her from her lull.

Twilight steps closer to the edge of her ornate balcony to peer over the wall, quickly spotting a pinkish figure standing amidst the sea of green.

“Starlight?”

The unicorn on the ground takes a step back from Twilight’s door, and looks upward to locate the source of the voice. After finding her friend up on the balcony, Starlight cheerfully waves a hoof to greet her. “I hope I’m not disturbing you!”

Princess Twilight quickly dismisses the pony’s concern with a wave of her hoof. “Not at all! Just hang on, I’ll be down in a minute!”

After letting her friend in, Twilight walks with Starlight Glimmer down the cavernous halls of her crystal palace, flying through short formalities and routine small talk with the mare. Eventually, the two enter the heart of the building, where six thrones surround a dormant Cutie Map, and the roots of Golden Oaks hang far above, the wood imbued with magic. Twilight is the first to find a seat, Starlight quickly finding another next to her friend. A small fan oscillates on the table between them, as Starlight Glimmer continues their chit chat.

“Celestia sure gave one heck of a speech the other day, didn’t she?”

Twilight’s eyes light up as she leans in to reply. “Oh, wasn’t it just incredible? I almost teared up in front of The High Council!”

The pink unicorn smiles playfully. “It was pretty good, but to be fair; I once saw you cry over a book you spilled a drink on.”

“Well, that wasn’t really—” Princess Twilight pauses as she gets a better look at her friend’s teasing smirk and relaxed brow. The alicorn’s wing instinctually flares out just enough for her to hide her muzzle in embarrassment if need be. “Oh.”

Laughter begins to echo around the room as the two ponies enjoy the jest. Twilight’s sheepish laugh trails out just a little bit further than Starlight’s, who stares for a curiously long time at her dear friend’s smile.

“I suppose I can get a tad emotional about things…”

Starlight Glimmer straightens her back as the cool air from the fan reaches the pony, and tears her from her daydream. “So, what’d you see in the vault?” The violet alicorn pauses at the question, pursing her lips but failing to speak. This elicits an eye roll from Starlight, who leans against the table as she prods further. “Oh, come on! Everypony knows Celestia showed it to you!”

The princess’s lips expand out into a smile before she responds. “I can’t confirm or deny anything right now, but—I suspect it’s pretty exciting.”

“Right.” Starlight looks off to the side, toward the engravings of a tall stained glass mural. “I’ll get you to crack, Sparkle.”

Feeling somewhat bad for having to withhold such interesting stories, Twilight places both forehooves on the Cutie Map as she excitedly approaches the topic of humanity. “Even with what’s public, it’s pretty interesting though. I mean, they built structures and cities that dwarf our own—and all without the use of magic!”

Head already turned back to face the violet mare, Starlight cocks a brow at the uncharacteristic quote. “I’m kind of surprised to hear the Element of Magic say that…”

“Well—” Twilight begins, leaning back into her chair. “—that’s just from the point of view of a historian, of course. And if you think about it, they virtually were masters of magic; it just manifested differently for them.”

“You’re talking about electricity?”

Twilight nods to her friend, before interjecting with a small correction. “As well as other forms of energy conduction, like microwaves and infrared.”

The young unicorn chuckles softly at Twilight’s fascination. “You’re never going to leave the archives…”

Twilight moves a forehoof up to her muzzle to hopelessly suppress a giggle, then leans in on the table to defend herself. “No, I—” The pony’s violet eyes suddenly shift up to the tall window located behind Starlight, where sunlight is leaking in. “Shoot, what time is it?”

Confused, Starlight Glimmer makes a meager attempt to look around for a clock. “I don’t know, like one or something?”

Twilight is already standing up before the unicorn can finish her sentence. “I’m sorry, but I have to meet with the princesses to rehearse The Summer Sun Celebration!”

Starlight’s eyes follow the pacing alicorn with a mix of surprise and concern. “Okay, I’m sure it’ll be fine… No need to panic.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve really got to go, we’ll catch up later, okay?”

A soft ‘okay’ stumbles out of Starlight’s mouth as the princess canters away, toward the exit. The alicorn looks over her shoulder one last time before leaving, and refers to the mare sitting alone at the table. “Please stay as long as you’d like! I should be back tonight!”

Starlight has little time to do much more than smile and wave as her friend disappears behind the doors. After turning back around, and taking a short moment to enjoy just a few more oscillations of the fan, Starlight too begins to stand up, and make her way to the hall.

The sounds of the mare’s own hoofsteps as she slowly journeys through the castle make a haunting echo. For its grandiose size, Twilight’s castle spent an unusually large amount of time completely empty; the princess had having to practically beg Celestia to keep the royal guard out.

Starlight’s trot only comes to a stop when she reaches a particular, smaller hallway that branches off of the main one. At the end, where darkness encroaches most of passage, the mare focuses on a pair of ornate wooden doors. A strange, vibrant green light draws a shaft of color over the carpet, its source creeping out from underneath the doors. Starlight Glimmer watches the subtle fluctuations of the green light as if transfixed, until she breaks her stare with a sigh and a hung head.

The pony continues her trek down the long hall of Twilight’s castle, refusing to look anywhere but ahead.

* * *

With the sun just settled behind the distant mountains, the prison tower is kept alight only by the glow of a lantern placed between Looking Glass and his prisoner, Cave. The guard pony stares intensely at the line of cards lying before him, then back to the cards he holds against the crate with his hoof. Cave’s arms are separated by metal bars on either side, his wrists resting against the makeshift table and his paws holding his cards tightly. Neither of the creatures say a word, Glass opting to quietly consider his options.

The guard’s hoof slides a card labeled ‘7’ to the end of the line, bringing the total to twenty-nine. It’s a move that elicits a small chuckle out of Cave.

“Well that was forward.”

Looking Glass smiles at his acquaintance's comment, but holds his commentary until after Cave’s move. The diamond dog studies his hand for a short moment, then reaches to the top of the deck with a sigh and an eyeroll. “Here goes nothing…”

Cave pulls the top card from the deck, and places it face up at the end of the line. A four; pushing the total over the thirty point summit, and eliminating Cave from the round. The guard’s smirk grows into a wide smile.

“What’s that; three, zero now?”

“I thought we weren’t keeping score…” The prisoner says with an amused smile of his own.

Looking Glass slides the remainder of his hand into the center of the crate while continuing to poke fun. “You sure you don’t wanna just call it? I mean, can you take much more of this?”

Cave brushes off the jest with a muffled ‘yeah, whatever’, using the biological advantage of his fingers to swipe the cards off of the table. The prisoner takes one last glance at the cards in his hand before tossing them into the pile: a six, three, eight, ten; and an ace.

“I haven’t had a decent meal in days, I don’t know how you—” Looking Glass briefly complains over the prisoner’s excuses “—expect me to strategize on stale bread and soup peppered with, mildew…”

“Oh, come on.” The guard begins. “That’s a staple of the Liberty Guard’s cuisine, right there!” The stallion’s forehoof points toward an empty bowl in the cell, and his words come out with a smile. Cave joins the pony with a half laugh, shaking his head as he begins to shuffle the deck.

“So where the hell is Canterlot?” Cave asks over the flapping of the cards. Looking Glass first answers silently, with his best ‘are you serious?’ look.

“Did you forget about the whole ‘ancient, intelligent alien race’ thing that’s been going on? It could be a month before you’re transferred…”

Cave begins to dispense the freshly shuffled cards, alternating between each side of the table. “Yeah, maybe I could actually learn how to play in that time…”

Glass makes a soft chuckle, then responds to the prisoner with a smirk. “I’m certainly not complaining.”

Hooves dealt, Cave slaps the remaining stack face down onto the table, then hesitates for a moment. “...Surely there’s protocol, or something like it.”

“Yep; and we’ll never hear about it. Trust me, one thing I learned about Canterlot with my time on the job was that they don’t communicate, they just do.”

Cave remains quiet, studying his hand as Looking Glass attempts to view his by precariously holding the cards between his hoof and the edge of the table. Inevitably, gravity takes advantage, and brings three of the left most cards in front of Glass tumbling down.

“Shit—”

The guard begins to frantically collect the fallen cards, wincing as he uses his mouth to remove them from the stone floor. Two of them quickly make their way back on top of the makeshift desk; the third, unknown to the searching pony, lies just outside the prison bars, near the feet of Cave. The diamond dog studies the card for a moment, then crouches down, and with his paw outstretched between the bars, peels the card off of the floor with his fingers.

Looking Glass’s searching eyes come across the prisoner’s extended arm, and the dusty old card sandwiched between his fingers. The dancing light in the lantern highlights the claws protruding from the ends of Cave’s fingers, dark grime surrounding them. Hesitation holds the guard, who looks from the prisoner’s paw to his face, pressed against the metal bars and half hidden in shadow.

“...Thanks.” The earth pony steps forward, craning his neck forward to retrieve the card from Cave’s grasp. With his mouth on the side facing him, Looking Glass pulls the card from the prisoner’s paw with ease.

“Don’t mention it.”

The two men return to their game of strategy, this time in silence. The cards on the ‘field’ expand as each player adds to the sum in small increments. After the first few plays, turns begin to slow down, each participant taking more time to study their hoof and the consequences their cards might bring them down the line.

With his turn over, Cave takes a moment to study the guard's expression opposite the table, and attempts to break the silence. “You got a family?”

Looking Glass pauses, drawing his eyes up from the cards despite his muzzle remaining down. “Wife. Kid on the way.”

“Ah.” Cave begins. “I hear it’s like a magic the greatest alicorns could never conjure… and havoc the greatest armies could never wreak.”

Glass scoffs, using his mouth to pull a new card before using it to respond. “Well she’s really into the idea anyway.”

“And you...?”

“I’d love to have a kid.” Looking Glass shoots out, somewhat defensively. “To be able to watch my son—my own flesh and blood—say his first words, or, or take off for his first day of school; I mean who wouldn’t want that?” The prisoner silently plays his next card, listening intently to the stallion’s story. “...But the timing of all this… I’m barely home as is, and with everything that’s going on, I’m sure Baltimare’ll need more of us active than ever—” Glass’s upper lip raises in distress, stopping his lengthy reply. “I don’t know…”

The prisoner nods his head in quiet understanding, keeping his eyes locked onto his cards.

“What about you?”

Cave blinks his gaze away from the cards, as if surprised by the question. “Uh, no kids.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got someone on the outside?”

The diamond dog inhales a large breath of air before answering. “Well; I didn’t really get to spend a lot of time with my folks, and the rest of my family connections are uh—complicated…”

Looking Glass stares helplessly for a minute as his prisoner awkwardly trails off. Silence crawls back into the room, giving the guard a moment to compare the cards laid out before him, and the ones pressed against his hoof. “...I’ve gotta draw.”

Cave watches closely as the pony places his hoof face down, and plays the card from the top of the deck straight onto the field.

A seven, pushing the total over and giving Cave the round. “Hey!” He begins, outstretching his paws and raising his brow. “Might not be a lost cause after all!”

Looking Glass exhales through his nostrils with a smirk and a wave of his hoof, dumping his cards into a pile on the table.

* * *

The room is filled with hustling ponies and various stage directions, Princess Twilight in the center of it all; her long, violet mane being exhaustively brushed by a young mare with glasses. The alicorn glances away from the mirror in front of her, and toward the Princess of the Night standing to her side. For Twilight, events like this were always enough to unsettle her nerves. As she watches Princess Luna dryly discuss the contents on a clipboard with a bearded stallion holding the board in his telekinesis, she can’t help but take a long, envious stare at the kind of confidence and pride evident in Luna’s presentation.

“I’m sorry princess, I need you to look forward.” The comment from the young glasses-wearing mare quickly tears Twilight from her distraction, and she returns her gaze to the large mirror in front of her.

“Right, sorry.”

Princess Luna looks up from the clipboard, unable to ignore the younger alicorn’s body language. “Are you alright, Twilight Sparkle?”

The violet mare’s eyes shoot up and focus on the reflection of Princess Luna. “I’m fine—” An awkward smile quickly replaces Twilight’s blank expression before she amends her verbiage. “—I’m good.”

Luna can’t help but smirk, sending the stallion she was speaking with away with a simple motion of her hoof. “Just clear your head. You’re better at handling these sorts of things than you give yourself credit for.”

Twilight smiles sheepishly at the comment. “Thanks, Princess.” As Luna draws nearer over Twilight’s shoulder, the young alicorn can’t help but try to lighten the mood. “...Although, I also wouldn’t be opposed to letting you and your sister handle the speech…”

“Ah—” Twilight’s awkward grin almost immediately fades at the sight of Luna’s hesitation. “Actually, it’ll be just the two of us today. Princess Celestia is away, attending to an international matter.”

“What?” The quick jerk of Twilight’s head leaves the assistant pony waiting impatiently with the brush in her telekinesis.

“She told me to send her apologies, and to inform you of her intended return just a week from now.”

“Today, of all days?”

Princess Luna nods confidently. “Dragons aren’t often keen on waiting.”

Twilight begins to panic quietly, muttering to herself as her narrowed eyes move about erratically. The Princess of the Night places a hoof on the mare’s shoulder for comfort before trying to calm her with words. “Twilight Sparkle, I’d be delusional to assume you’ve practiced your speech any less than a dozen times. I’ll handle my sister’s end. Your role remains the same.”

The door suddenly bursts open with a thin earth pony coming through. “Five minutes, princesses.”

Luna’s attention is only briefly held by the announcement, turning back to the younger princess with a relaxed smile. “Shall we?”

With one last look at her reflection, Twilight Sparkle steels herself for the event, then gives a solid nod to her friend.

As the two ponies stride past the guards and onto the balcony, the crowd below erupts into thunderous applause. Twilight’s hoof instinctively raises to wave to the audience, as her eyes almost immediately begin scanning the faces below. The mare’s eyes twitch at the scene before her; seemingly as many cameras facing her as muzzles.

“Thank you all so much for coming!” Luna’s voice echoes throughout the massive room as the applause dies out. “I’m looking forward to sharing this lovely evening with all of you, as I am every year. But first, it’s with great sadness that I must announce: Princess Celestia is away on international business, and will not be here with us today.” Petrified, Twilight watches as dozens of shutters click and an army of pens begin to scrawl against little notepads. “Even so, our newest leader, Princess Twilight—” One of Luna’s forelegs outstretches to present the young alicorn. “—and I both will be available to listen to any of your comments and concerns.”

“And speaking of the bright young alicorn; please give a warm welcome to her as shares just why this is such a magnificent day for Equestria!” Hundreds of hooves clop against the floor as Twilight puts on an awkward smile and replaces Luna’s position at the end of the balcony. Try as she might to distract herself, the princess can’t keep her eyes from zoning in on the flashing cameras.

“Thank you, Princess Luna. And thank you all, for your attendance.” The applause dies down and leaves every ear and notepad eagerly waiting for the alicorn’s words. A bead of sweat trickles down Twilight’s forehead as she does little more than make soft noises with her mouth frozen agape. “Today… is a special day for our nation. It marks the anniversary of Princess Luna’s return to her home, and—” Twilight’s searching amidst the sea of flashes finally comes to end as she locates a familiar face. Applejack looks up from the crowd with a crooked smile and brow arched inward with concern.

“...and her rightful place, alongside Princess Celestia.” Twilight breathes a sigh of relief as the crowd slowly builds up an applause, even if the note taking and camera flashes continue. “Now, if you’ll all just follow Princess Luna and me—” The mare’s directions are interrupted by a camera wielding colt below shouting out.

“Where’s Princess Celestia?”

Luna almost immediately eye rolls at the outburst, as her younger co-host nervously approaches the question. “As Princess Luna has said, Princess Celestia will not be with us this morning due to a prior engagement, but the effect of her magic can still be seen from—”

“Does her disappearance have anything to do with The Vault?”

The question blurted out by a young, black-maned mare catches Twilight off guard, who freezes with her mouth open. “...We—We will not be addressing any recent rumors regarding The Vault today, but I assure you, you will all be given the opportunity to discuss the matter with us on a later date. Today is just about The Summer Sun Celebration.”

“Why has Canterlot kept this hidden?” The colt readies his pen after hurdling the question at the princess.

“I’m sorry—” The clicks and flashes down below join a growing murmur as Twilight stands petrified under its effect. The six of her friends begin to looks around nervously at the quiet unrest.

“Previous reports indicate that the entire story is just misdirection; that Canterlot has plans to use the humans as a scapegoat for a catastrophe they can’t stop?”

“That is blatant fantasy. Canterlot has been wholly honest with everyone.” The response draws Luna’s gaze to lock onto Twilight as the outbursts continue.

“Except for when it comes to The Vault itself, right?”

“That’s not—”

“Why is Canterlot delaying?”

The rapid fire exchange in tandem with the movement of the crowd begin to shake the princess, who starts to respond and even speak at a more hurried pace. “Decrypting and distributing this information is no simple task, there are many moving parts.”

“Should ponies be concerned for their safety, in regards to the contents of The Vault?”

“What? No, they’re not—this isn’t about safety, this is about research and translation; and the mare-hours both of those tasks demand.” At this, Princess Luna silently begins to approach the end of the balcony, where Twilight continues to speak. “The humans were an incredibly complex species, and there are many areas of study that it is apparent they have a better grasp on than we do—this is a learning opportunity.”

The unrest in the crowd quickly develops at the comment, as Luna extends her wings and blocks Twilight’s line of sight with the ponies below. One of the reporters clambers to the front, pen at the ready.

“Princess Twilight, are you saying the humans were more intelligent than us?”

“We will not be taking anymore questions, we’ve already been delayed quite a bit.” Luna’s commanding voice fills the chamber, yet falls deftly on the ears of the shocked princess beside her. “If you would all please make your way outside, we can begin the ceremony.”

The tail end of Luna’s request is drowned away in a sea of shouting and camera flashes.

For Twilight, the rest of the event drags on for a painfully long time, only relenting after the princess has made her way through the doorway to the guarded prep room, and out of the light of the cameras. Luna is already present, shaking her head and commenting before Twilight can say anything.

“Vultures. They’ve no restraint; and I fear they’ll only continue to swarm future events…” Princess Twilight is unresponsive, staring at the floor with her words caught in her throat. “You’re not to blame for this, Twilight Sparkle. I mistakenly assumed the press would have an ounce of decency today.”

Twilight tilts her head up toward the larger alicorn, bearing an expression not unlike that of a child who’s just lost their favorite toy. “...When Celestia hears…”

“Surely you know my sister better than that.” The young princess continues to stare, eyes still wide with disbelief. “Celestia won’t be mad with you. Just—” The short gap between the two disappears as Princess Luna moves in to shelter the younger mare with her wing. “They’re merely worked up. Ponies haven’t seen—nor will they see—change like this in their entire lives. A week from now, it’ll be drowned out by some other ridiculous rumor or conjecture.”

Calmer now, Twilight looks up at her friend with a glint of hope in her eyes. “You really think so?”

Princess Luna folds her wings back against her sides before responding. “Go home, see your friends, and then get some rest. In short time, everyone but the most deranged conspiracists will have forgotten; I promise.”

The concern in Twilight’s expression slowly fades, eventually to be replaced by a genuine smile. “You’re right.” Twilight says with a simple nod. The mare then exhales, an apparent attempt to expunge the rest of her concern. “Of course, you’re right.”

On her way out of the room, Princess Twilight stops and hesitates at the doorway, eyeing either direction of the long hall beyond it.

“Perhaps you should take the exit in the back.”

The comment elicits a sheepish smile and turn of head from Twilight. “Right.” She then takes several steps in the direction of the exit before pausing, and turning to look at her friend. “Thanks, Luna.”

Luna stands in the doorway and smiles at her fellow princess, watching as she makes her way to the end of the hall. After the young mare turns a corner and vanishes, so too does the smile on Luna’s muzzle fade away. Her iridescent eyes roll downward, so that only the details of the carpet beneath her hooves can be watched.

“Isn’t it interesting how the original building plans for this place didn’t actually include a staircase to the second floor?” The relaxed male voice draws Luna’s attention behind her, where a tall dragon with amber scales stands leaning against the wall. “Despite being built by earth ponies, only creatures like you and me could actually reach the balcony.”

Princess Luna smirks at the elder dragon, who seemed to have an affinity for riddles. “Dominus Temporis. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Dominus pushes off of the wall, looking all around the hallway as he takes several steps in Luna’s direction. “I may have had… a hunch about something interesting occurring here today.”

“Ah, yes.” Luna begins. “The only mortal capable of literally peering into the future, and he uses it to find the best seats in town.” The amber dragon’s eyes are narrowed by the corners of his smile, as he laughs heartily at the princess’s comment.

“You and Councilwoman Velvet must get along well.”

Mentioning of the High Council reminds Luna of the circumstances. “How are they? Has news reached them yet?” Dominus raises a claw and shakes his head before the mare can even finish.

“Don’t worry about the council; I won’t allow them to make any moves against Princess Twilight.” Luna nods silently while continuing to listen. “There’s little I can do about the public’s opinion, though.”

“I know—” Luna almost immediately responds. “She’s doing fine, all things considered. I think she just needs her head in a project; something to keep her busy.”

Luna’s eyes follow Dominus as he seems only half present, the dragon inspecting details of a painting on the wall. “...That does sound like a ‘Twilight’ solution.”

The princess looks up and down the councilman’s figure, noticing the relaxed posture and lack of concern in his eyes. “You know you could have prevented this. It sure would have helped me out.”

Dominus finally turns his head away from the painting to instead watch Luna. “I suppose I could have.” The alicorn lowers her brow at the less than helpful response.

“Have you ever intervened?”

“A young, careless boy discovering he could see the future? Of course I’ve used it.”

“But you don’t anymore?”

Dominus Temporis pauses at the question, eyes locked onto the long brush strokes of a river running through the painted valley. “We’re… unique, you and I. We possess incredible power. But we must also possess incredible restraint; lest the power controls us.” Princess Luna nods understandingly as she waits for the dragon to continue. “It’s the division between kings and tyrants.”

The hall grows quiet as Dominus loses himself in the painting; brilliant rays of light piercing the delicate clouds above, and bathing the rolling hills below in a warmth so vivid you could almost feel it.

* * *

Nightfall comes over the forest at the base of Foal Mountain as swiftly as the day had come before it; the city lights of Baltimare lighting the horizon, and silvery rays from the moon lighting the rest of the fields. A fraction of this splendor is visible through the small window atop the tall stone tower, the occupants of the room instead lit only by the glow of several flickering lanterns.

Looking Glass leans carelessly back on his chair as his suit of armor gathers dust next to the table. He had been silent, save a few ‘hmm’s as he scanned over each line of the newspaper in his hooves. All the while, his prisoner lies completely still on the only piece of furniture within the cell, a dirty old cot situated in the corner of the small room.

Cave stares absentmindedly at the stone ceiling above him, only the motion of his thumb rubbing against his index finger signaling any life in the diamond dog. It’s the sound of a pony-made whistle that brings Cave’s attention back into the room.

“‘Windigo's celebrate a six to three victory against Cloudsdale Storm Chasers as Windigo cheerleading squad shows off’...” A smile grows on Looking Glass’s face as he briefly shows his profile back toward the prisoner. “You want me to leave this page with you, maybe get you some tissue and privacy?”

Cave doesn’t immediately respond, instead leaving Looking Glass to chuckle quietly at his own wit. When Cave does respond, it’s in a dry, monotone voice.

“I fucked one.”

Glass turns quickly, face twisted in confusion. “What?”

“Met in a Canterlot bar. I didn’t find out who she was until later, when a friend mentioned the team.”

The wooden chair Looking Glass is sitting in comes down with a thud, as he retracts his leg that was propping it up. The guard then turns fully around, and stares at his prisoner in disbelief. “Bullshit you fucked a Windigo cheerleader.”

The cot creaks as Cave turns over and looks at the guard. “...Her flexibility said otherwise.” Looking Glass makes a frustrated groan that turns into laugh by the end.

“You did not fuck a Wind—which one was it?” A smirk forms on Cave’s muzzle as he leans onto his back and continues to stare at the ceiling with his hands behind his head.

“Orange coat, white mane.”

Looking Glass scoffs at the details, prodding his hoof against the paper while turning back toward Cave. “You ever seen a newspaper before? Color doesn’t help me a whole lot…”

The diamond dog groans sarcastically, rolling off of his bed and approaching the bars. “Bring it here.”

The earth pony chuckles once more, shaking his head before grabbing the paper with his mouth and approaching the cell. Cave beckons the guard with one paw extended out of the cell, and the other loosely wrapped around one of the bars.

Upon reaching his prisoner, Looking Glass holds the news up for Cave to point to, identifying the cheerleader. “Right there—” Cave’s finger presses against the thick paper, drawing the guard’s eyes downward.

“Mwhere?” Looking Glass attempts to ask around the paper in his mouth.

“Right—” Cave’s other paw lifts off of the metal and dives with ludicrous speed into the fur on the back of the guard’s neck. Looking Glass panics as Cave’s remaining claw grabs on the opposite side of the pony’s neck, the newspapers dropping to the ground and spreading out. The guard’s panicked grunts turn to cries of pain as Cave’s claws sink deeper into his flesh. Glass shakes his head frantically, trying in vain to repel himself away from the cell as he’s dragged closer.

Once close enough, Cave wraps his left arm all the way around Looking Glass’s head, using his paw to hold his chin up and expose the stallion’s throat. The diamond dog releases his right paw from his victim, and then without hesitation, slashes the skin vertically from the chin to the chest. Glass cries out in aggravation as the prisoner holds him in place and continues to mark the stallion’s neck with thickening claw marks, the red lines pouring blood over the guard’s fur, and showering the stone floor beneath them.

Eventually, Looking Glass’s protests grow weaker, and his already strained shrieks of pain devolve into a loud gurgling noise, the exposed throat muscles expanding and contracting with each of his last breaths. Cave attacks until the pony’s chest is painted red, and the sick noises coming from his blood-stained mouth die off.

After his rampage, Cave is left standing alone in the room, deep heavy breaths shaking his entire body as Looking Glass slumps lifelessly before him. His first glance is at the wooden door at the other end of the room; then, to the key ring hanging loosely from the corpse’s hip.

Once Cave had freed himself from the cell, and avoided the still expanding pool of blood to reach the door, he opens it with the utmost caution. The hall beyond is empty, only a long winding staircase and another door visible to the prisoner. Cave quietly moves to the second door, opening it to discover a dimly-lit bathroom.

The diamond dog wastes no time moving to the sink, and turning the water on full blast. Chills settle through his paws as he runs the water deeply through his fur, bloody bubbles forming in the basin as he aggressively rubs in the soap. Once his paws are relatively clean, he splashes some of the cold water onto his face; frozen as the sensation calms his nerves.

Cave returns to his room shortly, being mindful of the creek of blood formed in the crevices of the stone floor. He slowly approaches the corpse before leaning down and reaching out, grabbing as much of the newspaper as he can. The diamond dog holds the cover up by its dry end, blood soaked through most of the lower half and dripping onto the floor below.

‘AN INCREDIBLY COMPLEX SPECIES’
PRINCESS TWILIGHT’S ACCIDENTAL REVEALING OF HUMANITY’S INTELLECT, AND WHAT IT MEANS FOR US

Below the bold headline is a photo of the princess herself, looking worryingly at the mob of ponies beneath the balcony she stands on.

Cave spends an unusually long amount of time studying the image. The prisoner brings up a finger to gently stroke the printed visage of Princess Twilight, forest green fur still embedded under his claws.

Away From Home

Author's Note

Chapter Seven Recap:
https://drive.google.com/open?id=1r9VEdWgVFG0uJtDyTxcF6s6aA5Q-a3QOdneD_4UKzQg

Away From Home

The crowd of ponies out in the fields, modest in size as it may be, stomp their hooves gleefully as a final flurry of fireworks and magic spectacle erupts before them. There are a myriad of neon colors in the night sky, flashing and crackling against the distant galaxies like tiny stars themselves, even if for a brief moment. And under this brilliant display stands a blue unicorn—horn alight with magic, and muzzle stretched wide with a smile.

The boom of pyrotechnics and magic energies are muffled inside, where Starlight Glimmer lies alone in her hammock. There’s a letter in her outstretched hooves before her, beside an open envelope once sealed with Twilight’s insignia, and the hanging lantern that reveals the contents of both objects with its warm glow.

The noise outside grows quieter, and soon Starlight can hear the unicorn responsible for the theatrics retreat backstage, before approaching the wagon door. Starlight Glimmer is quick to return the letter to its envelope, leaning over her shoulder to welcome the other unicorn. “Hey!” She says. Trixie smirks proudly back at her.

“You heard them, right?” She asks, pointing a hoof to the wall.

Starlight snickers. “Yes. I heard them.”

Trixie begins to strut further into the wagon, moving a box aside to make room for the door to close, and keeping an eye on her reflection as she removes a cloth draped over her mirror. “The show’s really been on the upswing these past few months—I’ve no doubt we could be filling stadiums next year! And oh,” Trixie pauses her self admiration in the mirror, glancing over to the mare with her hind legs hanging down from the hammock, and the envelope in her lap. “...I couldn’t have done it without my Great and Powerful Assistant, of course. Thanks for putting out my fires.”

Starlight Glimmer swings her legs idly in the air, smiling down at her friend. “Of course! You know, everypony needs a shoulder to lean on every now and again.”

“I meant the fireworks,” Trixie clears up. “I was thanking you for putting out the grass fires.”

“Oh.” Starlight responds with a smirk, as Trixie’s eyes drift downward. They settle on a stuffed suitcase, resting on the floor at Starlight Glimmer’s hooves.

“What is that?” Trixie inquires with her brow arched almost comically. “You’re leaving?”

“Trixie, I—” Starlight places the envelope face down on top of the suitcase, and then hops down to the floor. “—yes, I’m going… away, for a while.” The blue showpony scowls, prompting Starlight to rush her explanation along. “It has nothing to do with you! I promise. It’s just something I have to do myself…”

“You’re abandoning me.” Trixie accuses, reflection pouting alongside her.

“Come on, it’s not like that! I’ll still find time to visit—”

“‘Visit’?” Trixie snarls. “How long are you going to be gone?”

Starlight hangs her head, and scrapes lightly at the wooden floor. “...I don’t really know… a year, maybe—”

“A YEAR?” She cries out, taken even more aback than before. “When were you planning on telling me this?”

“I’d just recently decided it myself! I wasn’t going to drop it on you in the middle of a show!”

“Why are you doing this?”

There’s a moment of newfound silence after Trixie’s question. Starlight exhales softly, and dips her head once more before staring straight into her friend’s eyes. “I just—I’ve found myself not too sure of things lately. I’ve been tired… hurt, perhaps. But I have faith now that this is something I must do. It’s time for a new chapter.”

Trixie doesn’t immediately respond. Instead, her muzzle twists in disgust, and she finds it impossible to look at Starlight as she mutters her reply under her breath. “...You sound more like Twilight Sparkle everyday…” The pink unicorn across from her simply sighs. “Go then!” Trixie says, keeping her nose held high and walking past Starlight. “I don’t care where it is, just go!”

Starlight allows herself to be pushed aside as Trixie crosses the small space, and sinks into her hammock. She pulls the brim of her large, blue stage hat down, a further display of her not-so-subtle indifference.

With a frown over her muzzle, Starlight Glimmer sheepishly looks down at the suitcase, playing with one of the zippers. “...I’m sure you won’t want to be hearing much more from me, but—” She looks up at the pony lying in front of her. “—I like what we have. I’ve really come to appreciate being your friend.” She quits her antics with the zipper, and places a hoof firmly atop the luggage. “So… ‘thank you’, I guess is what I’m trying to say.”

Trixie remains silent. Starlight smiles earnestly, though it’s quick to fade as she rubs behind one ear, and turns to take her leave. But not before one last thought comes to her mind. “Oh and I left that jacket you liked so much in your closet… think you were right about it looking better on you than it ever did on me.”

Just as the door swings open, the mare in the hammock rouses. “Starlight…” She calls out. The pony in question turns back, eager to listen. “...I appreciate… your appreciation.” She grumbles, the words sounding like they’re somewhat of a struggle to get out.

Starlight titters softly. “You got it, Trix’.”

* * *

The crystal halls and vaulted ceilings of Twilight’s castle loom large over its occupants. Incidental as it may be, with Twilight herself gone the halls actually find themselves with much more company than they’re used to, packs of guards and police strolling about.

Moon Dust walks alongside a tall bookshelf in the library, narrowed eyes scanning a scene not unlike the rest they’d just gone over. She pauses at the end of the shelf, and looks back over her shoulder at the door she came in. A police officer stands beyond it on one side, speaking with a pegasus guard on the other. Moon returns her gaze to the interior of the room, up to a small window where a patch of sunlight filters in. The pegasus sighs, her rubber-wrapped forehooves edging just past the square of light.

As she returns out into the main hall, she’s approached by a dark gray colt with his mane and tail similarly bound in a net. “So, what’re we thinking?” He asks casually.

Moon Dust walks slowly with the colt, replying as she watches the ponies around them. “No broken windows, no broken locks, no blood, no missing possessions—you think Celestia’s gonna be happy to see me come up there with a big hooful of fuck all?”

The gray colt following Moon arches his brow, hesitating to comment. “Not especially so, I’d reckon.”

Moon Dust pauses her walk, head revolving for inspection. “Could be magic, I suppose. That leaves a lot of options, but the lab’s already swept for arcane residue and I’ve got this funny little feeling that they’ll come up with shit.”

“What about the princess herself?” The scowling pegasus suddenly turns back to listen. “I mean she’s run off before, right? Overburdened by the duties of ruling ‘n all that?”

“Not like this, she hasn’t”. The dull violet pegasus turns to face forward again. “We’ve got word back from the Crystal Empire that she’s not up there, her closest friends don’t have a clue—we even checked with that stripe out in the woods… We have nothing.”

“We got a dirt sample on the carpet over there…” The second pony is quick to point out. Moon Dust’s gaze follows his outstretched hoof to where a small group of ponies are setting up a camera.

“Dirt?” She asks. “So we have a hoofprint?”

The colt shakes his head. “Not entirely, no. There’s no way in saying that it was the perp’s, either. Could’ve been tracked in from a guest, or a guard… Could’ve been tracked in by Princess Twilight, I s'pose.”

The comment elicits little reaction from Moon Dust, who turns her head back slowly to watch the crew set up. “...Celestia’s going to eat me alive…” She mutters under her breath.

* * *

The refrigerator door creaks as Applejack swings it open, and leans against it to look inside. There are a number of jars and bottles, milk, butter, a half-eaten pie. A.J. begins to rifle through the contents as the front door to the house comes open, and a male voice calls out. “Hello?” It asks.

“I’m in here!” The orange mare at the fridge replies. Shortly after, hoofsteps creak across the floorboards of the hall, until their owner stands in the archway into the kitchen. Mint Julep, with his undone tie resting around his neck, stares in confusion at his wife. “You’re just in time.” She says, grabbing something glass with her mouth.

“...Time for what?” Mint Julep inquires.

With little notice, a bottle suddenly comes flying in Mint’s direction. The stallion grimaces and outstretches a hoof, fumbling the object long enough for his magic to kick in and save it. He rotates the cold bottle to inspect the label as Applejack retrieves another. “...Oh no, hun, I can’t. Not tonight.”

A.J. turns around with her own bottle held against her chest, and her brow raised in suspicion. “Ya work in the liquor business. Whaddya mean ‘you can’t’?”

Mint Julep snickers through his teeth and puts the bottle down on the counter. “I do work in the liquor business. Meaning I’ve already endured my fair share of celebratory shots and cocktail parties.”

“So one more cider in the evenin' shouldn’t be a problem, then.” Applejack quickly responds, shutting the refrigerator with her hind leg. “Come on.”

Mint Julep scoffs. He picks the bottle back up off of the counter with his magic, and removes the tie completely with a forehoof. It’s tossed casually out onto a wooden bench in the hall, where it falls right next to an old and battered cowmare hat; one that, once upon a time, would’ve never been found anywhere but atop a familiar blonde mane.

The low hanging sun pours its light over the apple orchard, as the two ponies walk out the back. Applejack walks along the patio with her husband following shortly behind, and approaches a pair of cloth reclining chairs next to a small table. She climbs into the chair nearest the table, leaving Mint to lazily claim the remaining seat. As the stallion gets settled in, Applejack reaches out to the table with her muzzle and clenches a bottle opener that had been left there in her teeth, lifting the cider up with a forehoof. “So…” She manages to say, air wisping through her teeth. “...how was your day?”

Mint Julep smiles. “It was fine. You know, business as usual.” A.J.’s cold bottle of cider makes a small fsh noise as the cap comes loose, allowing the mare to toss the bottle opener in Mint’s direction. He’s more prepared this time, and catches it in his levitation with ease. “What about yours? What’s the word on the princess?”

“Ah,” Applejack begins, a bit of a scowl formed. “Celestia’s little bloodhound was creeping ‘round the farm earlier, shaking me down for any whereabouts on Twilight. Like if I had any idea, I wouldn’t be out there finding her myself…”

Mint Julep nods quietly in agreement, opening his bottle, and then levitating the cap back to the table. “...You think this could be a kidnapping?”

A.J. takes a swig of her drink, and then locks her gaze on the rolling horizon. “My thinking is this: anypony who’s gonna go through the trouble of kidnapping a princess can only want one thing… a helluva lot o’ bits.”

“So you’re confident that she’s safe, then?” Mint replies, quickly making an amendment. “—er, relatively, that is…”

The orange earth pony on his left turns to look his way. Her eyes soften as she allows them to drift downward. “...It might not be a pleasant thought, but if somepony was interested in hurtin’ Twilight… I imagine they’d want ponies to know about it…” Another swig, and a quiet moment of introspection. “...No, this is just a rotten mare with more than a few screws loose, and massive delusions of grandeur… And she will be caught.”

Mint Julep leans a little further back in his chair, turning his head and smiling at the freckled mare. “You’re right.” He takes an oddly refrained sip of his drink. “No, of course you’re right. Princess Twilight will be safely returned—eventually.”

Applejack turns her head to the side as well, warmly returning Mint’s optimism with an earnest smile of her own. The moment is interrupted with the sound of a distant screen door slamming, both ponies turning to observe the commotion. A.J.’s younger sister Apple Bloom can soon be seen cantering away from the house with her coltfriend in toe, the two engaged in a loud and expletive-riddled conversation that carries out across the farmlands.

With a heavy sigh and a long drink of her cider, Applejack watches as the young pair head out together. “...As if we didn’t have enough on our plates…” She laments quietly.

* * *

A breeze runs through Celestia’s private chambers, and through the coats of the three ponies within it. Princess Celestia, Princess Luna and Moon Dust all stand nearly equidistant from one another, forming a close triangle on Celestia’s rug.

“Perhaps I don’t understand, Moon Dust,” Celestia says with royal authority. “Princess Twilight has been missing for almost twenty-four hours now, and you’ve found nothing to indicate where she might’ve gone?”

“I’m doing what I can, Princess Celestia.” Moon Dust is quick to reply. “I’ve already spoken with her closest friends—”

“That’s not good en—” Celestia freezes her response and closes her eyes, as if to physically prevent herself from going further. She straightens her posture and takes a deep breath. “...Alright... It’s alright. Which of her friends did you speak with, then?”

“Rainbow Dash; Applejack. I figured they’d be the most likely to know anything, but they’re just as in the dark as we are. Rarity hasn’t been around Ponyville in months, Fluttershy’s probably been seen last in public even further back than that. And I figured Pinkie Pie… well, you know how she is…”

Celestia begins to confidently nod her head. “You raise fair points. But I’d like you to eventually get to all of them anyway, understood? We must be vigilant.” Moon Dust starts to nod silently in agreeance as Princess Luna finally steps into the conversation.

“What about Dr. Heartstrings? Have you spoken with her?”

The other two ponies share a confused glance. “The anthropologist?” Celestia inquires.

“Yes… the one working on the DNA data project with Twilight.” The room remains quiet as Luna’s eyes dart back and forth between her cohorts. “Surely I’m not the only one who’s taken notice of how the two look at one another...”

Princess Celestia’s brow tightens with steely determination, before she turns back to Moon Dust. “Go see what you can find. Dr. Heartstrings’ apartment and restaurant are both in town anyway… We need to use anything that we have.”

Moon Dust nods in affirmation. “Understood.”

Princess Celestia stands tall in front of her doorway as Moon Dust takes her leave and heads down the hall in a canter. Princess Luna slowly approaches from behind, standing nearly wing-to-wing with her sister as Moon Dust’s hoofsteps fade into an echo. “...You’re welcome.” She says almost playfully.

Celestia tilts her head, looking down at the other alicorn. “I hope you’re right about this. Princess Twilight could be in very grave danger.”

As the elder sister finishes, she turns and walks slowly back into her room, leaving her flowing and ethereal mane to pass over Luna. “I know that.” She replies back. “She’s my friend too, you know.”

Celestia snaps her head back around almost instantly. “Your ‘friend’?” She lambasts. “I’ve known that mare since she was a filly, and she’s looked up to me for just as long. If anything were to happen to her, I don’t think I could ever forgive myself! ...And so she’s your ‘friend’...”

The cold attitude of her sister brews a sinister venom in Luna. “I think you could.” She says with a furrowed brow. Celestia turns back again, quickly noticing the daggers that look back at her.

“What?” She asks.

“Forgive yourself, I mean.” Luna’s hooves twist ever so slightly in the carpet. “I don’t think that there’s a single thing the mare who would exile her own sister couldn’t forgive herself for.”

The two ponies hold their unyielding gazes at one another, Celestia’s face growing unusually cross. “Luna.” She growls. “I think I’ve heard enough of your council tonight… You had best leave.”

There’s a small twitch in Princess Luna’s eye. She scoffs while looking down, and then back up over Celestia, maintaining a sharp, rigid posture. Even so, the younger alicorn resists saying another word, and turns to follow orders.

Princess Celestia follows shortly behind as she watches Luna march through the door and past the guards on either side. Her narrowed eyes track Luna down the hall, a direction opposite that Moon Dust had taken.

The princess in the doorway takes a deep breath. She doesn’t bother watching to see where exactly her sister goes, instead turning back inside, and using her magic to slam the door behind her.

* * *

The cloudless night sky looms over Canterlot, pale violets and deep blues painted over the expanse. The stars shimmer over the castle, and the courtyard gardens where a small group of unicorns engage in a casual game of Croquet. They chatter and chuckle over drinks and small delicacies, blissfully unaware—or perhaps, willfully dispassionate of—the civil unrest that now brews throughout the country.

A wall of vines grows up along the white stone, behind the formally dressed party, and the stoic guards that stand behind them. Up and up this foliage spreads, clinging to the ceiling of an overhang, and wrapping around the front of the balcony it supports. Princess Luna sits atop this balcony; alone, and with a quiet watch over the festivities happening below. She watches with despondent eyes as a stallion hits his ball through one of the hoops set along the grass, and the group around him stomps the ground in polite celebration.

“Quite a pleasant night, isn’t it?” The male voice draws Luna’s gaze over her shoulder, and at the amber dragon lingering in the archway.

“...Yes.” Luna responds plainly. Dominus allows his familiar smirk to fade a little, and watches the princess turn forward again.

“May I join you?” He asks. Luna doesn’t turn around again, but does gesture to a chair next to her with a partially unfurled wing. Dominus Temporis accepts his invitation silently, pushing off of the arch and finding his seat next to the Princess of the Night.

Neither of them immediately talk. Luna remains occupied with the game below, which Dominus briefly joins the spectating of, only to ultimately turn and instead study the somber look of the princess. “...You must have quite a lot on your mind.” He says with a soft tone.

Luna tilts her head in the dragon’s direction. “That another one of your abilities?” She asks. “Reading ponies’ sad faces?”

Dominus chuckles in earnest; even if Luna bows her head to sigh. “I’m sorry.” She amends.

“You’re forgiven.” Dominus is quick to respond. “And we don’t have to talk about it.” He continues with a grin. A small lapse in their conversation allows him to look back out over the ledge, the commotion below bringing another thought to mind. “...Though if I’m to be quite honest, I don’t know a thing about how this game works,” He says while a claw points toward the courtyard. “so we won’t be talking about that, either.”

This brings out the first smile of the night for Luna. “I wouldn’t dare bore you with the details.” The two share another smile and glance, before returning to watch the gardens. As Princess Luna’s joyful expression slowly falls, a passing thought takes hold.

“...Do you ever wonder… what things would’ve been like for us… if we were born normal?” She asks quietly.

Dominus rests an arm up on the end table next to him, mindful of the vase on top as he considers his response. “...Well, sure.” He tilts his head ever so slightly. “Something that you’ve been thinking about a lot, recently?”

Princess Luna stares down to the stone beneath her hooves. “...More and more.” She casts her glance back up at the dragon across from her. “Where would you go, if that were the case for us?”

Dominus smiles warmly. “Up North, I suppose. Somewhere near the mountains—somewhere quiet. The kind of place where everypony knows everypony else, you know?” Princess Luna nods kindly in agreement. “What about you? Have a place in mind?”

The dark blue alicorn inhales sharply. “I think so, yeah. There’s this island I sometimes fantasize about… warm, and with sun-kissed beaches.” She snickers for a second before continuing. “Which yes, I get may seem odd coming from the Princess of the Night. But… somewhere like that.” Luna’s voice grows softer as she stares off into the sky, no doubt envisioning this place in great detail. “...Where the white sand stretches for miles, and the sea laps gently around your hooves. With no other landmass visible on the unending horizon, and the only sounds are that of the rustling forest behind you, and the enchanting azure waves stretching out before you. Where the shallows are lit at night with beached bioluminescence… and the cosmos loom above, visible in all of its splendor with unmatched clarity… I imagine what it would be like to spend a summer in a place like that, I suppose...” The princess trails off quietly, like she is pained to return back to the balcony. A pain not unnoticed by Dominus.

“Well fuck it.” He says plainly. Luna’s face twists with great confusion.

“I beg your pardon?” She asks.

“You want to find a place like that? I say go for it. The Southern Luna Ocean has—who knows how many uncharted islands...” Luna begins to laugh cheerfully before Dominus can even finish. “...And I don’t know about an entire season, but I suppose I could find an ‘important diplomatic operation’ to have you sent on for two, maybe three weeks. Might knock me down a couple rungs in the faith that Celestia has in me, but I’m pretty sure I could sell it.”

Wide grin still on her muzzle, Luna settles back in her chair, and locks eyes with her friend as her enchanted mane flows gently around her visage. “You’d really do that for me, wouldn’t you?”

Dominus simply smiles back. “Of course I would.”

* * *

Just outside of Canterlot Castle, the streets lie eerily empty. A sole, gray-violet pegasus walks under the ample light of the street lamps, narrowed eyes inspecting the windows and alleys as she passes them. She finds her destination at an upcoming street corner, a brilliant neon sign reading ‘Canterlot, USA’ above its entrance. As she approaches the front door to let herself in, two motionless and armor-clad ponies go unnoticed, their bodies piled on top of one another behind a large dumpster.

The restaurant is almost entirely empty. The sole occupant behind the bar, a well-built stallion with a golden coat, turns and faces the entrance as soon as Moon Dust walks through it. The two stare at one another with sharp eyes, as an unrecognizable rock opera plays softly from overhead.

“You work for Heartstrings?” Moon Dust inquires. The pony in the kitchen responds with a methodical approach, walking silently toward the counter between the two of them. The inspecting pegasus takes a moment to look around as he does, noticing the overturned chairs and mess of pots and pans on the floor behind the bar. “What the fuck is going on here?” She bites.

The silent stallion passes through the partition in the counter, dragging a large bread knife off of a dirty plate with his magic as he does so. Moon Dust flinches at the flash of metal, instinctively lifting a foreleg up to block an incoming attack. The stallion’s magic wastes no time flailing the knife through the air, and then thrusting it down at the mare.

There’s a wet stabbing noise, followed quickly by a metal thud. Saliva flies out from Moon Dust’s mouth as she cries through teeth gritted hard enough to crack glass. The serrated blade had gone straight down through her right foreleg, and pierced into the table beneath her, pinning her there.

The mare looks up with the eyes of a bloodthirsty predator, and swings her remaining free hoof as hard as she can at the attacker. He absorbs the blow straight into the jaw, recoiling back and falling to the ground at the foot of the bar, a few loose teeth clattering on the linoleum around him.

With the stallion no longer a threat, Moon Dust takes another look at her wound and winces at the damage. She lifts her spare, shaking foreleg up to the blade handle, and presses it gently to the wood. This simple gesture is enough to send a renewed wave of pain throughout her body, the blade’s metal teeth likely lodged between nerves.

The mare bows her head and suppresses another cry of pain, muzzle grimaced. Suddenly, the sounds of muffled voices can be heard coming from the floor above, and the shuffling of hooves is just audible over the smooth rock harmonies.

A puff of air is blown out of Moon’s nostrils, the mare now painfully aware that she was away from a weapon as at least two more were headed for the stairs. She takes a firm grip of the blade handle, and tugs to see if she can rip it from the table, bringing a fresh sense of unbearable pain, and a gushing stream of blood underhoof.

She looks at the stairs, just at the end of the kitchen, and with shadows moving along the walls.

Moon Dust slams her left hoof down on the table to brace, then bites the blade handle with unyielding force. Sweat perspires from her forehead as she clenches her jaw, and lifts. An outpouring of fresh blood drains beneath her leg, covering the table and dripping down onto the floor in a crimson sheet. Flesh can be heard tearing as Moon Dust persists, her pinned leg lifting slowly with the blade.

Finally, she’s freed. The tip of the blade comes out of the tabletop, and Moon Dust falls backward as her tear stricken eyes remain shut, and her howling mouth still locked on the handle. The ‘employees only’ door is snapped open just as soon as she slides behind the bar, next to the unconscious stallion slumped down there.

“What the hell happened…” One of the new voices calls out in annoyance. “...where’s Stint?”

Even with it pulled out of the table, the long blade remains lodged in Moon’s foreleg, a thin ribbon of blood dripping to the floor as she stares at it. She shakes her head and her messy silver mane, focusing instead on the bright fluorescent lights above… and the hoofsteps slowly approaching.

Of the two new unicorns in the room, a mare leads with a flintlock rifle in her magic’s grasp. The stallion traipsing behind her is similarly armed, but keeps the barrel of his gun aimed lower, allowing his cohort to take point. They approach the edge of the kitchen, where the room gives way to the side the customers visit, just on the other side of the bar. Having checked the rest of the room, the scowling mare slides two hooves up onto the countertop, and peers further and further over the edge.

Moon Dust leaps up her metal hair stick held tightly in a hoof, impaling the mare through her eye socket. She cries out and drops her rifle, the stallion behind raising his and pushing to see where his target was. Not wasting a beat, Moon Dust lifts herself over the bar, fighting to grab a hold of the screaming mare’s neck. The dying unicorn begins to flail her legs wildly, hitting the stallion behind her and forcing him to back up. This gives Moon Dust just enough time to maneuver over the bar completely, holding the gravely wounded mare like a hostage.

“DROP THE FUCKING GUN!” She barks, just over the wailing sounds before her. The stallion, panicking, raises the rifle up and aims for a quick shot.

It comes just as Moon Dust twists her hostage to the side, forcing their neck to absorb the shot. It cuts straight through in a flash, the lead ball opening a gory exit wound right in front of Moon Dust, and cutting off the mare’s ear-splitting cry. It’s replaced by an unmistakable death rattle, choking and gurgling as blood spurts from the wound and out of her mouth.

As the smoke in the room clears, Moon Dust locks eyes with the stallion standing with his face twisted in shock, the now empty rifle falling slowly from his grasp. “Shit…” He mumbles.

Moon Dust grunts as she pushes the corpse forward, knocking the remaining attacker to the floor with a clang, rifle and pans spilling out in a mess. He attempts to push the writhing body of his comrade off, getting back up to his hind legs before Moon Dust pushes him back down, this time his outstretched hoof knocking down a collection of plates off of the counter next to him. She climbs on top as he’s pressed against his back, a swift punch from Moon’s good leg bruising his cheek. Energy draining, Moon Dust next resorts to pressing hard down on the unicorn’s throat with her leg, pushing her body’s weight down, and choking him out.

Little to either of the ponies notice, Moon Dust had painted a trail of blood into the kitchen with her, as the serrated knife still protrudes out of her leg during the scuffle. The sputtering unicorn catches the first glimpse, bulging eyes drifting to the shimmering metal on his left. With a wild grasp of levitation, he catches the blade handle with his magic, and begins ripping through tendons to retrieve it.

Moon Dust howls, distracted by the pain long enough to allow the stallion to break free. He lunges for the pegasus, and the two become entangled as his magic pries the weapon out of her flesh, and Moon Dust bites down on his exposed neck with frightening force. The two shriek from the adrenaline and suffering, Moon’s animalistic cry muted in the flesh and blood she tears out with her maw. She barely even notices as the blade once lodged in her leg clatters against the floor, the unicorn no longer cogent enough to coordinate an attack with it.

The pegasus spits out most of the meat pulled off with her teeth, thrusting the mortally wounded pony back against the counter as she leans down to pick up the knife. A weak swing from the unicorn is easy enough to block before she clamors over him, and drives the blade right into his temple. His forehooves grapple hopelessly at the weapon as Moon Dust slams her hoof down into the butt of the handle, three times in succession, and with growing ferociousness.

The stallion dies with his back bent over the counter, and the knife lodged deep within his skull. Moon Dust slides down off of him, falling backward into the opposite counter as she does so. Her crazed eyes flicker over to the entrance, and she begins to limp toward it with the fire still burning. She picks up a dinner plate without a second thought, smashing it down on the bar as she reaches it so that it leaves a collection of jagged pieces. She takes the largest, and falls down on top of the still unconscious unicorn with it held in her curled hoof. The final blow is delivered without resistance, the stallion’s throat cut slowly from side to side. He is the last to die—and he does so slowly.

The pegasus’s shaking body rises up over the dead, her coat stained all over with a deep crimson pattern. Her eyes flutter as they lead over to the door at the end of the room, the one the other ponies had exited from. She steels herself and pushes off toward it, limbs quivering during their journey.

Bodies lay strewn about the restaurant, white tiles stained with a river of fresh blood. Moon Dust doesn’t even bother retrieving the knife or hair stick still lodged in a corpse’s skull, as she shambles toward the ‘employees only’ door. Her wicked eyes stay trained on her goal, and her bruised and bloodied limbs don’t dare dissuade her from this path, even as she leaves the crimson tracks of a wounded animal.

A new pair of ponies open the door before she can reach it, once again from the opposite side. A large, stocky earth pony stallion in front, and a smaller unicorn mare with a mint-colored coat behind. Similarly to Moon Dust, both are covered in bruises and lacerations.

Celestia’s bloodhound stops, and leans against a nearby wall so that she can inspect the two. She tightens her gaze as her fog-riddled mind turns the situation over, figuring the distance between them, and looking for improvisational weapons along the way. A bloody smear is left along the wall as she pushes off of it, shaking her dazed head, and revealing a desperate snarl.

The stallion at the bottom of the stairs doesn’t delay. He lowers his stance, and charges headlong into a confrontation with the ragged pegasus challenging him. The two cry out in rage and pain, adrenaline sending them into what could very well be the last fight their broken bodies will allow.

The two never make contact. “ENOUGH!” Shouts the unicorn, enveloping both in a field of her levitation. Both attackers stumble to the floor after the magic dissolves, leaving them to be confused and disoriented as they eye one another. The greenish mare nods in Moon Dust’s direction. “You’re not with The Equestrians, are you?”

Moon Dust spits out a ribbon of blood. “...I’d hardly have a reason to kill three of them, if I was.” She grunts as she lifts herself slowly to her hooves again, stumbling against the wall for support. She looks up at the unicorn from behind the messy and wet pieces of hair that dangle down from her mane. “You Lyra Heartstrings?”

Lyra pauses her inspection of the wounds on her ally, staring instead at Moon Dust with intense, inspecting eyes. “...Yes.” She replies simply.

Moon Dust drops her head again, sniffing loudly as her nose begins to leak. “You got bandaging in here, Lyra?” She asks upon lifting her head back up.

Lyra Heartstrings again motions with her head, this time toward the bathroom in the back of the kitchen. “There’s a first aid kit in there, right on the wall when you come in.”

Moon Dust nods slowly. She breathes in and forces herself away from the support of the wall, shuffling toward the back with the energy of a creeping glacier.

Lyra turns back to her friend, removing the last of torn binds on his hind leg, and observing the battered skin beneath. She pulls in for a closer look, only to recoil back a moment later at the sounds of a large crash behind them. The pair look over at Moon Dust, who had fallen halfway to her destination, and now lay motionless on the kitchen floor.

* * *

Out in the rolling fields of Sweet Apple Acres, crickets can be heard chirping under cover of night, and moonlight provides soft tones for the tree canopies to be painted in. It provides light for one of the house’s windows, too, the closed glass glistening up on the second story.

A small pebble strikes the glass, before falling helplessly back down to the earth. A short moment passes, and after there’s no sign of life stirring in the room, a second pebble flies up and hits the pane once more. This time, there’s a response.

Apple Bloom comes to the window in her room, and lifts it up so that her groggy eyes can focus on the figure on the ground. “Blue...?” She whispers. She begins to lean out of the window to get a better look at the pegasus, before confirming her guess, and leaning down onto the windowsill with a sigh. “What the hell are you doing?”

Blue looks up with a wide grin. “Come down for a second, I got something to show you!” He says, in a similar whisper-shout tone.

“Really? At one o’ clock in the fuckin’ morning?” Apple Bloom retorts. Blue’s smile only grows wider.

“Come on, it’ll be worth it! I promise!”

Apple Bloom sighs once again, looking outward at the midnight blue sky, before rubbing her eyes with a forehoof. “...Fine.” She concedes. “Hang on a second.”

The young filly closes her window and disappears out of view, no doubt finishing waking herself up, and heading down the stairs. When she finally does emerge out of the door Blue stands in front of, she does so with a furrowed brow, and a suspicious gaze. “This better be worth it.” She mutters under her breath.

“It will be.” Blue responds, dropping the whispery voice. “Now it’s just over here, come on!” He waves a hoof out toward the old barn on the property, coaxing the two of them to head off in that direction.

“Why didn’t you just fly up to my window? Why’d you have to throw shit at it?” Apple Bloom asks, genuinely confused.

Blue looks back over his shoulder with a goofy smile. “Because it was more romantic that way, I mean come on!”

Apple Bloom shakes her head and scoffs. “Yeah, you’re a real charmer...”

The pair eventually reach the destination Blue had them headed toward: the old, faded red barn in the middle of Applejack’s property. Blue happily scampers up to the main door, pushing it open slowly so that moonlight cascades over the interior.

Apple Bloom cocks a brow at the vacant room, draped in shadow and dust. “Wow, is murdering me the surprise?”

Blue scoffs at the comment, before heading straight in. “Just, come here…”

Tired, confused, and admittingly a little curious, Apple Bloom walks in after the stallion, and immediately looks around. While it’s true that most of the interior is covered in darkness, a strange source of warm light beams through the old floorboards above, illuminating the barn’s contents in flickering rectangles. There are empty stalls lining either side, hay tossed haphazardly about the areas where animals once resided. There are dangling ropes and all manner of rusted tools hanging from the walls, and the air is as cool as it is outside. Apparently the aging wood and broken windows did little to help that.

Blue stops just before a ladder on the left, leaning against it while motioning upward with his forehoof. “...Go on.” He says through a grin.

Curious and well enough awake now, Apple Bloom simply chuckles at the odd circumstances, and happily takes the lead. The wood rungs of the ladder creak a little as she steps through them, though not enough to deter the young mare. She reaches the small wooden platform and pauses, forehooves planted on the boards, and a growing smile on her muzzle.

Somepony had made quite a little nook, up there in the rafters. The source of light could now be identified as a hooful of candles laid out around the space, as they flicker silently around a patch of blankets and pillows. And in the center of the rustic little platform is a single cupcake—resting enticingly in a patch of moonlight, and adorned with a striped burning candle.

Apple Bloom is left standing frozen at the sight, as the soft beating of wings sounds behind her. Blue lands tepidly beside her, kissing the side of her neck, and extending a hoof over the back of it. “Happy Birthday, A.B..” He says softly.

Words failing her, Apple Bloom exhales a stifled breath in a mix of shock and joy. “...You did all this?” She eventually manages.

Blue smirks as he walks around the mare’s side. “Of course I did. You think I’d do any less for my girl?”

Apple Bloom’s genuine smile cracks with a small scoff. “Well, you did just up and forget ‘your girl’s’ birthday last year...”

“Oh, come on.” The stallion replies, swinging his head with exaggerated strife. “I told you I was sorry about that. We were barely seeing each—” He pauses, staring at Apple Bloom who looks back at him with half-lidded eyes, and a casual, wry smirk. Blue discards the rest of his apology, and snickers with a small nod. “Blow the candle out on that thing already, will ya?”

Happy to oblige, Appbloom trots to the center of the platform, and sits in front of the pastry with her forelegs straight, and her hind legs spread on the wood. The flickering light reflects in her eyes briefly, before a strong huff of her breath extinguishes it. The end of the wick draws a swirling ribbon of smoke into the air, while Blue cautiously stomps his hooves along the floorboards in celebration.

Before too long, the two ponies find themselves laid out on their backs, huddled together under a mess of blankets, and eyes cast skyward. The state of disrepair the barn is in left a large hole in the roof looming above them, allowing soft moonlight to pour inside, and the cosmos to drift slowly in view.

“So I was totally the first to wish you a happy birthday this year, huh?” Blue asks, keeping his gaze to the night sky.

Apple Bloom chuckles in their makeshift bed beside him, shaking her head at the question. “Yes, Blue. You were the only one sweet enough to wake me up in the middle of the night so you could wish me a happy birthday.”

The pegasus next to her nods with a casual smirk on his muzzle. “Awesome.” He says.

As if she’d suddenly just reminded herself of the scenario, Apple Bloom leans her head back into the pillows, yawning while her eyes stay trained on the stars above. “...That is a hellava view, though.”

“Right?” Blue needlessly adds.

“...You know, we’ve got it pretty good. Twilight told me that a lot of the places humans lived back then, couldn’t see the night sky like this. She said their cities produced too much ‘light pollution’.”

Blue suddenly shifts his position, leaning onto his side so that he can reach out with a hoof and grab something from his nearby saddlebags. “Hey…” He begins to say, leaning back once he retrieved the item. It’s a plain cigarette, passed to Apple Bloom’s muzzle by the tip of his wing. “...Be honest with me. Do you think Princess Twilight… really just had that dream? Like with the humans in it?”

Apple Bloom’s gaze tightens as she watches Blue light a match, and as he brings it to the smoke dangling from her lips. “What’s the alternative, that she just made it up?” She says with her teeth clenched.

“No,” Blue is quick to reply. “I believe she saw them. Just how can anypony be sure… that it was real?”

Apple Bloom takes a drag of the cigarette, before shaking her head. “Of course it wasn’t real, it was a dream—”

“—but what if the dream was planted?” The pegasus responds, faster now, and with growing excitement in his voice. “Think about it! Luna is the master of dreams, right? And if her and her sister wanted to do it, Twilight would make the perfect subject to plant the vision into!”

Apple Bloom cautiously holds the lit cigarette with a steady hoof, eyes still narrowed with suspicion. “But why, though?”

“Because Twilight would make the perfect scapegoat for them!”

“No, why would Celestia and Luna unleash all of this on Equestria? It’s been nothing but chaos since The Vault opened!”

The crazy look in Blue’s eye suddenly falters, and a knowing smile takes its place. “Exactly.” He says, grasping the cigarette with a wingtip and pulling it up to his own lips. Apple Bloom stares at him, annoyed. She shakes her head once more, and turns onto her side so that she can speak directly with the colt.

“‘Exactly’ what? How is that good for them?”

Blue shifts his posture, moving a little further up as if preparing to give a speech, and passing the cigarette back to Apple Bloom. “Stone Skipper’s friend Raven, you know the one from the party last month? She knows all about this shit—”

“Why are you listening to any of Stone’s friends? You know he’s dumber than a literal rock, don’t you?”

“Shh,” Blue hisses. “I know, but Raven’s different. She went to college or whatever. In any case, she tells us about this ‘Wendigo Prophecy’... you know, like back in medieval times, when the Wendigos kind of scared everypony into getting along?”

“What, I suppose Celestia was responsible for that, too?” The young mare snidely remarks.

“Uh, yes, actually.” Blue replies without a hint of playfulness. “But that was then. The point is, that the Wendigo Prophecy is as old as the princesses themselves, and all of the shit with The Vault, the humans, and Twilight’s planted dream, is all just a part of their machine. It’s about making us feel small, and keeping us docile.”

“So Celestia and Luna made everything up about the humans?” Apple Bloom asks somewhat sarcastically.

“No,” Blue is quick to respond. “they were real. It’s just that they’re used by Canterlot as nothing more than a Wendigo. Celestia stands at her stupid pedestal and gives her speech about ‘reuniting with humans’, as if we’re on even terms. They were on the fucking moon!” A small cloud of smoke seeps out of Apple Bloom’s mouth as she snickers at the comment. “I mean, our cities are all just—fucking, puns of their cities. We’re just a fucking parody, mare.”

Apple Bloom holds her cigarette steady as she smiles a little wider and shakes her head. “Where are you going with this?”

“I don’t know!” Blue nearly shouts, throwing a hoof into the air. “Now I’m just fucking pissed!”

Apple Bloom laughs and rolls back under the covers, letting Blue take the cigarette for one last drag. She relaxes and sighs under the vivid night sky, eyelids sagging a little at the sight. Only a soft grinding sound draws her attention away. She rolls her head just far enough to the side so that she can see Blue as he pushes the last of the cigarette into the floorboards, making a small burn mark. “Hey, watch the hay with that thing, will ya?” Apple Bloom points out.

“Yeah, yeah; I got it.” The pegasus replies. He grinds the stub until the light is extinguished, and only a small line of smoke remains after his hoof is pulled back.

“Oh!” He suddenly exclaims. “That reminds me…” Apple Bloom watches curiously as Blue leans back to his saddlebags, digging through to find another item. It doesn’t take long for a searching hoof to find it.

“Now, you don’t have to try it if you don’t want to…” He pulls out a small glass vial, garnering confusion from the mare watching. “...but suffice it to say, in addition to knowing a shit ton of stuff about humans, Raven also has the hook ups.” More items started to follow the vial, including a common tablespoon, and a medical needle, among other things.

Apple Bloom cocks a brow. “What is that?”

“Raven called it ‘heroin’...” Blue answers, closing the flap on his bags back up. “Said it gives a rush like nothing you’ve ever seen. Like the whole could already be turned to shit—and yet, you’ll be in absolute bliss. Like none of it matters.” A bit lost in his own explanation, the pegasus reorients his head so that he can face Apple Bloom. “It’s man-made, A.B.”

This stirs a little more curiosity in the young mare; though she’s careful to not reveal too much of it. “How the hell did you even get something like that?”

“Like I said,” Blue responds. “She has the hook ups.” He unfurls his wings a bit, giving them a soft flap; perhaps out of discomfort, or perhaps nervousness. “...So, you gonna try it with me?”

Apple Bloom sighs, and the edges of her mouth widen into a flat frown.

* * *

The sun peaks over the distant hills of Ponyville, and casts its light over the golden valleys of Sweet Apple Acres. Where a breezy wind once blew through the cracks of the old barn, a layer of dust and warmth now filters through. A sleeping Apple Bloom twitches at the sound of a distant rooster, stirring under the sheets that now served only to make her sweat. Her nose sniffles, and with the covers now pushed a little further down her body, she opts to adjust her head, and try once more to fall asleep.

A soft noise prevents her from doing so. At first, she assumes it to be snoring from the colt next to her. But another moment of listening to it brings out an urge to investigate. She inhales sharply, and pushes herself up with her forehooves, looking over to the pegasus next to her.

“Blue?” She comments quietly. “Hey, Blue?” His eyes are half-lidded, but the young stallion utters no response.

A tinge of fear grows inside Apple Bloom. “Blue, hey!” She moves over to him, grabbing hold of his shoulders and trying to jostle him awake. “Hey, are you alright? Can you hear me?” Apple Bloom asks, voice shook with panic. Her eyes narrow at the nearly pinpoint pupils on the pony’s vacant expression.

“Hey! Come on, Blue! Wake up!” Apple Bloom grows more desperate in her attempts, shaking the colt harder, and shouting louder as her eyes steadily grow more red. “Blue! Please, please wake up!”

Blue remains unresponsive. His mouth hangs open, and his breathing is slow and labored. Apple Bloom nearly chokes, looking around her surroundings with tears obstructing her vision. “HELP!” She shouts, calling out to anypony that can hear her. “PLEASE, HE—HE NEEDS HELP!” She looks back over her friend as a tear starts to roll down her cheek, and the sound of cantering hoofsteps grows nearer.

“Apple Bloom?” A mare’s voice calls out from below. “Is that you? What’s gotten into you?”

Apple Bloom scrambles to the edge of the platform, leaning over to speak with the orange mare while nearing hysterics. “Sis’, please—he needs help!”

Something about seeing her sister like that sends Applejack into a machine-like response, hitting the hay-covered floor running, and scaling the wooden ladder with ease. When her head emerges over the floorboards, the shock in her eyes brings only brief pause to her reaction. She heaves herself up with her forelegs, and quickly waves a hoof at her younger sister. “Stay back!”

Apple Bloom does as she’s told. She backpedals into the cramped space behind her, bumping into the rafters while her eyes stay trained on the horrible scene. Applejack takes a passing glance at the equipment sprawled out around the colt, then hurries to push him onto his side. “Blue, listen to me! Stay on your side, okay!” Her tangled blonde mane gets brushed to the side with a hoof, as the other holds the young pegasus steady. “Don’t roll onto your back again! Stay on your side!”

A third party steps into the room. “Hun?” Mint Julep asks from below. “Everything alright?”

Applejack looks up, scanning the floor around them until she finds a small vial. She gently releases Blue, then stumbles over to grip the glass container in her teeth.

Mint Julep is curiously craning his head upward when his wife leans over the ledge. She nods toward him, saying “Take it—” through clenched teeth. Mint is quick to follow orders, grasping the vial in a field of his magic and holding it to the light for inspection. “It’s the kid,” A.J. begins. “There’s a needle up here, I think he’s overdosing. Do you know what that is?”

Mint Julep squints as he spins the vial around once, closely inspecting the light powder inside. “Looks like…” He takes a cautionary whiff near the bottle opening. “...maybe morphine?”

The earth pony mare checks over her shoulder, then peers back down at Mint Julep. “What can we do?” She asks with convicted severity.

The unicorn on the ground looks up and away from the bottle. “We’ve got to get him to a hospital—quickly.”

Applejack begins to nod her head in response. “Yeah. Okay.” She turns around briefly, watching the motionless colt on the floor. “I’m gonna pass him down to you, okay?”

“Yeah, of course.”

As A.J. slowly drags Blue over and down to the ground floor, Mint is careful to guide the young pegasus with levitation, and onto his back. The stallion grunts as he shoulders the new load, slowly orientating himself as Applejack calls for his attention. “Big Mac is in the southern field; you reach him, then the two of you dump the apple cart and use it to get him to Nurse Redheart, alright?”

“Yeah,” Mint Julep says, finally settling with the added weight on his back. The unicorn takes but a few steps toward the door before A.J. stops him again.

“Mint,” She says, waiting for him to turn around again. “take the vial.”

The pony in question cocks a brow. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, I don’t know what—”

“Just take it.” Applejack says with finality. “She needs to know as much as she can about that stuff, and… Redheart knows me. She… she’ll be understanding, I promise.” Before Mint can respond, the briefly soft eyes of the earth pony narrow back to flittering points, and she waves the stallion out. “Now get going! I’ll catch up!”

Mint Julep nods in affirmation, and turns once again to head out, this time uninterrupted. Applejack watches his tail disappear beyond the barn opening, then stands up straight and takes a deep breath. Her eyes narrow in further conviction, and she turns to finally face the cowering mare behind her.

“Give me your leg.” She demands of the filly, whose head is turned in fear. “Your leg, Apple Bloom.” Applejack says once more.

Slowly, Apple Bloom does as she’s told, lifting her foreleg for her older sister to grab somewhat aggressively. The young filly’s lip begins to quiver, eyes dancing between her extended leg and the pony angrily inspecting her coat. “Applejack, I—” Her voice cracks, and it takes a moment for it to return to her. “—I promise you, I—I didn’t do anything…”

The comment goes unnoticed, A.J. only dropping the first leg, and yanking the filly closer for an inspection of the other.

Apple Bloom grunts softly in pain. “P-please, I’m not lying—”

“Do you have ANY idea what could’ve happened to you?” Applejack barks, ceasing her inspection. “Huh?” Her eyes drill into Apple Bloom’s, who can’t stare forward as tears well up. “Do you think Mom n’ Dad would be proud—look at me,” Applejack releases her sister’s foreleg, and yanks her head up by her chin. “—do ya think they’d be proud, to see you like this?”

Tears begin to flow freely from Apple Bloom. “I’m ss…” She whimpers, just loud enough to be heard. Applejack ignores her.

“Celestia’s sake, Apple Bloom, you could’ve been killed!” There’s a twitch in A.J.’s eye as she continues. “What’s wrong with you? HUH?” She gives the filly a shake on the shoulders, who further loses herself in her sobbing.

“I’m sorry… I—”

“WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?” Applejack shouts, voice only just wavering at the end. She watches the small, trembling filly before her, misted eyes wincing as she succumbs to her uncontrollable crying, breaths just long enough to mutter ‘I’m sorry’ a dozen more times. Applejack releases a shaky breath of her own, the fire in her eyes doused in a matter of seconds.

“I know…” She admits quietly, the tension in her outstretched legs flushing out. As Apple Bloom wails uncontrollably, A.J.'s grip around her brings her close to the fur of her chest, the mare’s head resting gently atop Apple Bloom’s. “Shh… I know, Sugarcube…” Applejack’s throat is dry and her voice is faltering. But her glazed eyes stay focused on the old wood behind them, and she waits for as long as she needs to to say the words with strength. “I know. It’s okay.”

The young Apple Bloom sobs into her big sister’s chest, forelegs locked around her neck in a hug that Applejack had nearly forgotten the feeling of.

“Shh… It’s okay.” Applejack says through the first tears of her own. She kisses the top of Apple Bloom’s mane, while her foreleg pets slowly down the back of her neck. “...It’s gonna be okay, ah promise.”

* * *

The ambient sounds of healthcare providers shuffling about the hospital eventually drags Moon Dust out of a lengthy nap, the mare’s squinted eyes adjusting to the room’s light. She’s laying in a bed with plain white sheets, an IV line on one leg, and bandaging on the other.

“You get some good rest?” A mare to Moon Dust’s side asks. She winces as she lifts herself and turns to see who it is, eyes relaxing once she notices the mint unicorn in the bed next to her.

“Are they all dead?” Moon Dust asks, ignoring Lyra’s initial pleasantries. “The Equestrians, did they all die?”

Lyra Heartstrings looks over the top of the book held between her hooves, brow raised and eyes half-lidded. “Well you’re a real ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” Moon’s head snaps back toward the unicorn, nearly snarling with frustration and pain. “Alright,” Lyra concedes. “yes, from what I’ve heard, it sounds like none of them made it to the hospital alive.”

Moon Dust sinks back into her pillow with an exhausted sigh. “We could’ve used them…” She admits aloud.

“‘Use them’...?” Lyra inquires. “Moon Dust—that’s your name, right?” The mare in question glances over, but doesn’t respond. “Well, Moon Dust, I can only guess as to what you mean by ‘using them’. I mean what are you anyway, a hitmare or something?”

“No.” Moon Dust growls back. Lyra shakes her head and sticks a forehoof out into the air.

“Then—? What, exactly?”

The wounded pegasus again hesitates to respond, looking down at the folds of her sheets as her pupils shift with introspection. Eventually, Lyra scoffs off to the side.

“...Whatever. I guess it doesn’t matter.” She pulls the book back up to her muzzle. “But yes, to answer your original question: they’re all gone.”

The two ponies lay back into their beds and rejoin the silence, Moon’s eyes watching the small window in the door as Lyra’s scan over her book. The bed creaks as Moon Dust shifts in it, grimacing as she turns to inspect the mess of medical equipment to her side. Her lips purse as she searches for the right way to continue the conversation. “...How’s the big guy doing?”

“Crane?” Lyra responds without looking up. “Yeah, he’s fine. They’ve got him on the floor above us.” She uses a field of gold magic to turn the page in her book. “Honestly, it was you we were worried that wasn’t gonna make it. You lost a lot of blood back there.” Moon Dust closes her eyes as she listens and her mind churns. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

The pegasus exhales when she opens her eyes again, looking with a tired expression up at the ceiling panels. “Yeah.” She mumbles, only just loud enough for Lyra to hear. “...So you must know where Princess Twilight is—” Lyra looks up before the other mare can even finish. “—that’s why The Equestrians were tearing the place apart?”

“What?” Dr. Heartstrings asks, face twisted with confusion. “The Equestrians were tearing my place apart because of their backwards beliefs that drove their heads up their own asses, not because they wanted any information.”

“So you have no idea where the princess actually is?”

“Not a clue.”

As it turns out, Moon Dust had no shortage of things to sigh about. She lands back into her pillow with a soft plump, and slowly raises her bandaged hoof to her forehead. “Perfect.” She groans.

“Not sure Twilight would want to see me right now anyway.”

Moon Dust rolls just a tad to the side, not bothering to guide her eyes far from the ceiling. “Why do you say that?”

“Because I’m pretty sure she tried to break up with me, last time we talked.” Lyra answers candidly. At this, Moon Dust finally turns her head far enough to see the unicorn.

“Oh? And what did she say exactly?”

“‘I don’t want to be seen with you because I’m too important, and my weak, helpless marefriend would make me vulnerable’...” She turns a page with a forehoof this time, and somewhat aggressively. “...or something to that effect, anyway.”

“She was worried somepony could use you to get to her…” Moon Dust rephrases. “And—she was right, in this instance. Wasn’t she?”

“Again—” Lyra suddenly snaps the book shut. “—they weren’t there for her, they were there because they have a problem with history. A history my restaurant happened to embrace.” She levitates the book to the table next to her while shaking her head. “And I don’t see how that even if they were there for another reason, that that means we should just—” She waves a hoof next to her head as she searches for the words. “—get down on our knees and conform to their perverse idea of justice!”

Lyra pauses for a moment to sigh and lower her tone, which had started to creep toward more of a shout. She’s sitting up in her bed at this point, forehooves in her lap and the covers laid out over that. Now it was her turn to be introspective.

“...You don’t just throw away something like that. And if you’re not willing to stand up for it… then what’s the point?” She lightly tosses one of the hooves in her lap. “...What’s the point of any of this...”

* * *

The train car rattles gently along the passing tracks below. The engine’s whistle can be heard blowing near the front, muffled as it is back in these passenger cars. Families of ponies sit nestled close to one another in each divided bench section, one foal in particular leaping up off of her seat to canter down the aisle, nearly running into an older mare along the way. Starlight Glimmer smiles and steps aside as the child passes, resuming her slow walk back to her seat shortly after.

After she finds it, Starlight lays down casually on a bench with her saddlebags already situated next to her. The bench across from her is empty, giving her a small section of privacy, and relative quietness. Starlight’s hazy blue magic first envelopes her horn, and then the top-most flap on her bags, the spell pulling it back to reveal a plain looking letter sitting at the top—plain, with the exception of Princess Twilight’s insignia embedded in the wax seal.

Starlight releases a slow sigh. She lifts the letter into her telekinesis, and the already broken seal does nothing to stop the paper flap from bellowing open. The mare pulls the flap all the way back, and retrieves the two documents found inside. The first is a letter, and takes Starlight’s attention much faster than the second. Even without the unique seal, the writing on the parchment is more than a little familiar to the unicorn.

‘Dear Starlight Glimmer,’ it begins.

‘I hope this letter finds you well. I’m sorry for my lack of contact as of late, and even sorrier for the way I’ve treated you. It’s an awful thing for a pony to speak to another the way I did back in that cafe, even more so for the fact that you viewed me as a close friend. It’s true that I was incredibly frustrated by work and a few nagging personal issues at the time, but that’s certainly no excuse to lash out on the ones you care most about…’

Starlight briefly pauses her reading, and looks out at the window across from her. The great Equestrian landscape sprawls out into the distance, rolling sun-kissed hills and scattered orchards. She holds the letter close to her while switching spots with her bag, allowing her to rest her shoulder against the glass and get a better look. The scene feels increasingly distant, despite this.

‘...I want to be very clear about this, Starlight: I think you’d do wonderfully at Starswirl Academy. You’re passionate, and incredibly clever about your work, and I’ve no doubt that these qualities would extend to your curriculum at SA. My confidence is reiterated upon in the enclosed letter of recommendation I’ve sent along with this note, and is free to be used at your discretion…’

A large tunnel suddenly passes over the train, swallowing the Equestrian landscape in an instant. Starlight is left to continue reading by the warm interior light.

‘...I know that you may not hold a very high opinion of me anymore, and you have every right to feel that way. But please: with or without my help, pursue whatever path you’d like to take. I have the utmost confidence that within it, you will find success.

Yours respectfully, Twilight Sparkle.’

Another sigh, much deeper than the last. Starlight places the letter gently back down atop her luggage, and rests her head on the edge of the window. She peers out into the surrounding darkness, until the light at the end of the tunnel breaks free, and once again reveals the Equestrian countryside. Only this time, instead of staring out at rolling fields of green and vast forest canopy, Starlight finds herself looking at a distant valley.

The young mare can see her own tired expression in the glass, looming large over the village in the valley she once called home. Perhaps it was time for her to call it home once again.