My Little Planeswalker: Twilight's Spark

Chapters

The Blind Eternities
Painful Truths (Revised Edition)
Welcome to the Storm Herd
Search the City (for a Decent Pub)
Legends & Libraries
Implicit Neighs
Windfall
Homeward Paths
Meet the Gatewatch
Clockspinning
Bloodrush
Veiled Threats
Return to Equestria
Gate Crashers
Oath of Twilight
Epilogue: Baneful Omens
Training Grounds

The Blind Eternities

Looking back on it, Twilight Sparkle had quite the unusual life.

Sure, she didn’t often think much of it while it was happening. Becoming the personal student of Princess Celestia, finding the Elements of Harmony, and saving the world multiple times were each extraordinary feats on their own, but as they had happened Twilight had found herself surprisingly quick to adjust to them. Even becoming the Princess of Friendship, easily the most significant event of her life, seemed almost quaint now. It was a huge responsibility for sure, and for a long time she didn’t quite feel like she deserved it, but she had grown to see her duties as a normal part of her life much more quickly than she’d ever expected to.

Yet of all the strange things she had encountered in her lifetime, the Magic Mirror was still the one thing that she could never quite get used to. A portal to a parallel plane of existence was something straight out of a fantasy novel, yet she had with some regularity been drawn to it, and the inevitable conflict that it created.

The latest incident with the Mirror was no exception. Starlight Glimmer, Twilight’s own personal student, had traveled to the parallel world to meet up with another unlikely friend that Twilight had made. What Starlight reported back was extremely worrying. She had known for some time of the multiple incidents caused by Equestrian magic leaking into the other world, but every report she’d received, whether from Sunset Shimmer’s journal or Starlight herself, suggested that they were occurring with increasing frequency.

If things continued down this path, it could permanently damage the balance between both worlds. Now, she decided, it was time to do something about it. Sitting before a desk in her castle’s laboratory, she painstakingly assembled the links in the silver chains attached to her latest creation: something that would hopefully allow the worlds to be placed back in balance.

“Hey, Twilight!”

Twilight’s attention was pulled away from her work. She turned around to see Starlight Glimmer standing in the open doorway just before the castle hall.

“Yes, Starlight?”

“I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be out for the afternoon,” Starlight replied. “Trixie and I are going to see a movie together.”

Twilight flashed her pupil a knowing smile. Much as she was reluctant to accept it at first, Trixie and Starlight had become closer than nearly any other ponies she had seen. A little voice in the back of her mind sometimes wondered if their friendship was something more than what they’d both claimed.

“Thanks for letting me know,” said Twilight. “Hope you two have fun!”

“We will,” Starlight cheerfully replied. She looked curiously at the artifact that Twilight was assembling. “Say, what are you working on there?”

“Oh, this?” said Twilight. “Well, your trip through the Magic Mirror had got me thinking about something. Ever since Equestrian magic started leaking through to the parallel world, I’ve been wondering if there’s a way I could deal with that. What I’d realized is that forcing the Mirror open outside of its normal cycle has created a more or less permanent planar gate that allows magic to travel through freely, even when it’s inactive.”

Starlight raised an eyebrow. “And you take it that’s a problem?”

“Well yeah,” said Twilight. “Believe it or not, I’ve dealt with a similar Mirror before. There’s a reason these kinds of interplanar portals are rarely used - using them too recklessly risks damaging the fabric of both our world and the world it connects to.”

Starlight winced. “That doesn’t sound like a good thing.”

“It isn’t,” said Twilight. “So I’ve been developing a method of interplanar travel that won’t upset the balance between different planes. Take a look!”

Twilight’s horn lit up, and she levitated the artifact in front of Starlight. It was a silver amulet hung around a delicate, incomplete chain. The amulet’s shape was reminiscent of an upside-down triangle, distorted so that its longer sides curved inward and its base curved outward. On top of it were five long spikes with curved edges, the largest in the center, two smaller ones surrounding it, and the smallest at the edges.

Starlight stared at the artifact blankly. “Um... what is it?”

“I call it the Planar Amulet,” said Twilight Sparkle. “This artifact will let anypony wearing it be able to travel between worlds without the need for a stable portal, ensuring there’s no magic leaking from one world to another. And I know it looks odd, but I’ve calculated that this shape is the best at channeling magic used for interplanar travel. Once I make an extra copy for Sunset, we can both travel between worlds without risking further destabilization.”

Starlight Glimmer shifted uncomfortably. “Um... well, that’s great and all. But don’t you think that’s a little bit dangerous? The Mirror involves magic unlike anything I’ve ever seen. What if something goes wrong?”

“There’s no need to worry about that,” Twilight reassured. She motioned to a pair of small, metallic hoops on her desk, each held above the surface by a thin metal rod and crackling with magical energy. “I’ve also constructed a pair of miniature planar portals based on my research on the Mirror. By sending the amulet through them, I was able to extensively test the effects of exposing it to the space between dimensions. Long story short, it should be able to withstand any amount of the chaotic energies between our two planes. The only thing that’s left for me to do is finish constructing the chain.”

“If you say so,” said Starlight. “I just hope you know what you’re doing...”

“Hey, Starlight! What’s the holdup?” Trixie’s voice called from a distance “The movie starts in fifteen minutes! If we don’t get going now we’ll miss all the previews!”

A pink flush appeared on Starlight’s muzzle. “Oop! Sorry, I’ve gotta go! See you later!” Without another word, she quickly trotted out the doorway and disappeared down the hall.

Twilight waved goodbye to her student, then turned her attention back to the amulet. She could barely take the anticipation, knowing that the secret to traveling between worlds was within her grasp.

———————

It hadn’t taken long before the Amulet’s chain was completed. Or rather it could have taken a long time, but Twilight was so intensely focused on her work that it didn’t matter. She was so excited to finish the job that she had barely noticed the passage of time at all.

“It’s finished! It’s really finished!” With a squeal of delight, Twilight levitated the amulet in front of her, getting one last look as she admired her own work. Though she was far from an expert in silversmithing, the Amulet body itself had proven finely crafted and impressively sturdy, aided by the many layers of protective enchantments she had placed on it. Nearly shivering with anticipation, she carefully slipped the chain around her neck.

Her horn lit up once more, and a purple sheet of translucent reflective material appeared in the air, serving as a makeshift mirror. She smiled at her reflection, and the sight of the artifact adorning herself.

“Looking good!” she said, dismissing the mirror. “Now, there’s only one thing left to do...”

Twilight focused her will on the amulet, and the entire world disappeared from her senses in a burst of sound and light. What she saw next was unlike anything that she could have ever anticipated.

All around her was... something. It was difficult to describe in mere words, like floating in a sea of colors - white, blue, black red and green - but all of it surrounded by an additional color that she was certain did not exist within the visible spectrum. It almost looked to her like a greenish-yellow purple, even though the mere thought of such a color itself seemed contradictory.

Even more difficult to describe were the dimensions of the sea of chaotic energies she found herself in. Not merely the size of it, but the directions that it extended into: it went outwards in all three dimensions as far as her eye could see, but it also continued in directions that did not exist in the three-dimensional world, into four, five, and even six dimensions, possibly even more. Despite the headache that seeing it all had given her, she had found it surprisingly comprehensible, like her eyes had been opened when she didn’t even know that they were closed to begin with.

Finally, floating throughout the sea were millions, if not billions, of bubble-like spheres that each shimmered with five colors - white, blue, black, red, and green - extending in every direction as far as she could see. These, Twilight Sparkle quickly realized, were each their own plane of existence, each a world just like her own. Her mouth lay open in silent awe, the sheer vastness of the Multiverse finally dawning on her.

The sight was so incredible that she didn’t even notice the Planar Amulet’s chain being corroded by the sea of chaos.

Twilight’s focus was violently ripped away from her surroundings as a sudden snap sounded right below her chin, and the only thing holding the Planar Amulet in place broke away from her body.

“NO!” she screamed. She reached out with her magic to grab the artifact, but by then it had already fallen far out of her reach, into the impossible depths of interplanar space.

Twilight’s body tensed, her pulse quickened, and her breathing became rapid and shallow as the reality of her circumstance dawned on her. Though the Planar Amulet’s body could withstand the chaotic interplanar energies, in her excitement she had neglected to test whether the chain could survive as well.

And without the Planar Amulet’s protection, she realized, the chaotic energies of interplanar space would tear her apart within seconds, body, mind and soul. She could not do anything but close her eyes in anticipation of her swift and painful demise.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her life flashed before her eyes. All of her accomplishments and failures, all of her mistakes and successes, everyone and everything that she had ever known and loved. As she felt the energies wash over her, she let out one final, desperate sob.

And yet, despite everything that she had known about the space between planes, the end did not come. Seconds later, she was still there, still intact, still living and breathing. The very worst that she felt was a slight tingling just beneath her skin. She opened her eyes, and found herself looking at the exact same scene that she saw before.

“I’m... alive?” The words pushed their way out of her lungs with great effort, hindered by the multitude of emotions pressing down on her chest, equal parts relief, happiness, fear, and confusion.

Yet even as she survived, she could feel the tingling beneath her skin intensifying, turning into a persistent irritation. The chaotic energies were still affecting her, but they were eating away at her more slowly than should have been possible.

“I... I have to get back to Equestria!” Twilight gasped. She stared at the multitude of planes surrounding her, each indistinguishable from one another. “But which one is it? Where do I go!?”

Twilight closed her eyes, and let out a wordless cry of frustration. When she opened them again, she found herself standing before her desk, safely inside her own laboratory.

The door suddenly opened with a slam, and Spike burst into the room. “Twilight! Are you alright!? I thought I heard you screaming!”

Twilight turned towards her assistant with wide eyes, her heart still beating with the intensity of a bass drum.

“Spike! Prepare a letter to Princess Celestia immediately! It’s an emergency!”

Author's Note

I've decided to start this fic as a side-project while I'm working on my other two major fanfics (only one of which is hosted on FiMFiction, in case you're wondering). It won't be nearly as large or ambitious as my other work, but it's an idea I've had in my head for a long time, so I figured, why not make something out of it in the meantime? I promise it won't distract me too much from my other work, but we'll see how it works out in the end. :twilightblush:

Here's hoping you enjoy the story!

Painful Truths (Revised Edition)

Author's Note

I have to say, the response to this fic has been much more positive than I ever anticipated! This was really just supposed to be a minor side-project to slake my thirst for writing as I finished formulating the outlines of my other two epic-length fanfictions.

I did receive some constructive criticism on the second chapter, saying that the instigating incident of the main conflict felt slightly forced, and I've been struggling with the idea of rewriting the chapter to make it feel more natural. So, in true Wizards of the Coast fashion, I've decided that the best way to improve the story is to retcon the hell out of it. :trollestia:

...Okay, so it's not a total retcon. Apart from the most important interaction, it's more or less completely unchanged. But looking back, I do feel that the best way to make this chapter work is to change the most important bits of dialogue. If you've already read the previous version of the chapter, you're not missing much if you skip the updated version, but feel free to read it again if you like and tell me if you think it works.

Finally, I'd like to once again throw in a warning that this chapter contains references to self-harm, mutilation, and mild gore.

Painful Truths (Revised Edition)

Princess Celestia had lived for a long time, so long that most ponies could barely comprehend it. Yet over the past several years it felt as though more had happened than the entire previous millennium.

Her pupil, Twilight Sparkle, had at once proven herself to be the most talented and capable pony she had ever known, while also having an inner compassion that left a lasting impression on every other pony she would come to know. There was a good reason that she had been chosen to be the Princess of Friendship.

At least, that was what she had continued to tell herself.

Yet even still, there was a lingering doubt in the back of her mind. Celestia had quickly learned to ignore it, but that doubt came back in full force when she received a letter from Twilight one fateful day.

At first glance, it appeared no different from all of the other letters that had been sent to her, appearing in a puff of smoke during a pleasant afternoon brunch with her sister on the castle balcony. She took a sip of her tea as she levitated the envelope in front of her, carefully opening it and reading the message contained within.

Dear Princess Celestia,

As much as I’d like this letter to be another friendly correspondence, I’m afraid the situation has become much more dire. Today, I had what is probably the first near-death experience of my life.

It started when I began researching a way to travel between planes of existence without the need for the Magic Mirror, so that Sunset Shimmer and I could visit each other’s worlds without allowing magic to leak from one world to the other. I created an artifact that I called the Planar Amulet, which would allow for its bearer to travel between planes at will.

Unfortunately, while the Amulet itself was constructed to withstand the chaotic energies of the interplanar space, I had neglected to ensure the chain that attached it to my body could survive as well. When I tested its effects, I traveled to the space between worlds, and the interplanar energies destroyed the Planar Amulet’s chain. The artifact was lost, and without it protecting me I was exposed to the raw energies of interplanar space.

Everything that I’ve researched in Star Swirl’s notes says that being exposed in such a manner would have killed me instantaneously, and this was consistently verified by my attempts at sending Spike’s tissue samples (don’t ask) through interplanar space. Yet I managed to not only survive, but I was able to make it back to Equestria through means that I don’t fully understand.

Because of this, I would like to request access to Star Swirl’s old laboratory this afternoon, there may be some of his research I haven’t seen that could help explain what happened to me.

Your faithful friend,

Twilight Sparkle

P.S. After completing the initial letter, I had a sudden thought, and asked Spike not to send it until I went over my notes again. When I did, I realized that something about the Planar Amulet itself doesn’t completely make sense. It was designed to enable interplanar travel, yet its ability to do so comes entirely from focusing my own magic into it. I had constructed the first so that it was attuned specifically to my own magical essence so that only I could use it, and the one I planned to create for Sunset would be attuned to her. Yet if I go over the calculations again, it seems as though the Amulet’s interplanar travel ability ONLY works if I assume the magic that goes into it has the properties of my own essence. There’s something unique about my magic specifically that’s related to the Planar Amulet’s capabilities, and I suspect that it’s related to the reason that I survived.

Celestia loudly spit her tea across the table, ruining several of her favorite cakes and pastries, staining the tablecloth, and spraying several ounces of hot liquid directly onto Princess Luna’s face.

Though she remained mostly unfazed, Luna couldn’t help but wince at the scalding tea in her eyes. Despite her pained expression, she met Celestia’s eyes not with anger but with worry. “Is everything alright, sister?”

Celestia’s stomach began to twist itself into a knot. She met Luna’s eyes only reluctantly, and answered. “I... I don’t know, Luna. I believe Twilight Sparkle may be on the verge of discovering the true nature of her magic.”

Luna’s eyes went wide. She opened her mouth, quietly mimicking an ‘oh’ sound. Several seconds of tense silence passed.

“...You did tell me you knew that this day would come,” Luna finally spoke. “That she would come closer to learning the true reason for her ascension.”

Celestia sighed. “I know. But I didn’t think it would be so soon.”

“You should tell her,” said Luna. “Even after everything you’ve done, she deserves to know.”

Celestia hung her head low. “I know,” she said. “And I will.”

———————

At first Twilight had wondered how Celestia had managed to send her a response so quickly. Even for a response to news of her nearly dying, she didn’t think it was possible for Celestia to have penned, signed, stamped, and sent a full reply in less than five minutes.

Her former mentor must have been seriously concerned. Or rather, that’s what she thought before she read the letter.

Dear Twilight,

Please meet me at Canterlot Castle as soon as possible. I need to talk to you in private.

- Princess Celestia

“That’s it?” said Twilight. “I nearly died and this is all she sends me?”

“Well, it is the middle of the daytime. Maybe she’s just busy?” Spike suggested.

“Spike, I’ve memorized her daily schedule down to the exact second!” said Twilight, “Right now she’s supposed to be at brunch stuffing her face full of cake!”

“Totally not creepy at all that you know that,” Spike remarked.

“Spike, this isn’t funny! This letter, it’s... it’s so short it almost sounds passive-aggressive!” Already Twilight’s breath had quickened. A more rational part of her mind chided her for jumping to conclusions, but it was ignored just as it usually was.“What if Princess Celestia’s mad at me? What if I did something wrong? What if that’s why she wants to talk to me private? What if she has some sort of punishment? Like, like... like something so severe I can’t even think of what it might be! That’s how horrible it is!”

“Hey!” said Spike. “Deep breaths, Twilight! Deep breaths!” He produced a paper bag from somewhere and handed it to Twilight Sparkle. She quickly grabbed it and placed it over her muzzle, breathing heavily into it until her breaths stabilized.

Twilight removed the bag from her snout and crumpled it up, tossing it into a corner with several other crumpled bags like it. “Thanks, I needed that.”

“Hey, it’s no problem,” said Spike. “Besides, Princess Celestia cares about you a great deal. Heck, you’re almost like family to her! I’m sure she just wants to see you in person so she knows you’re okay.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. It really was silly of me to think otherwise, wasn’t it?” Twilight gave Spike a warm smile. “Anyway, if Celestia wants to see me as soon as possible, I should probably get going. I’ll probably be back by the end of the day.”

“Sounds good!” said Spike. “I’ll see you later!”

As Twilight left she could vaguely hear the the muffled scratching of Spike’s claws against his owns scales, as he muttered profanity and something about tissue samples.

———————

Normally, Twilight would have taken the Friendship Express to Canterlot, as she very much enjoyed the opportunity to relax and watch the scenery go by. But with the urgency suggested by Celestia’s letter, she had decided to resort to a much faster means of travel.

When she was still a unicorn, teleportation was easily one of the most difficult spells she had learned. It took not only intense concentration but a perfect mental map of the surrounding area, to the point where it was dangerous to try teleporting anywhere that wasn’t directly in her line of sight. To top it off, the spell itself was so magic-intensive that it usually took her a full second to cast, rendering it useless in most contexts.

As an alicorn, the question of magical power was a non-issue, as she had access to more than she ever really needed in any practical circumstance. Not only that, but she had found a clever way of getting around the limitations of a mental map: she could send out a pulse of magic towards the sun or the moon, aimed in such a way that it would reflect off the celestial body and then land in the general area she intended to travel to. The magical pulse would then scan the area and transmit a mental picture of it directly into her mind, allowing her to perfectly teleport to its location.

The calculations needed to reflect the pulse in exactly the right trajectory to land where she wanted it to would be unimaginably complex to any other pony, but she had memorized the formula, the sun and moon’s positions throughout the day, and the overall geography of Equestria to such a degree that the math was almost trivial to her. By her own estimation, she could use this technique to reliably teleport anywhere within a five hundred mile radius of her location.

Naturally, teleporting to Canterlot, a mere sixty miles away, was so easy that it was almost reflexive. As the initial pulse completed and the map transmitted to her mind, she disappeared in a flash of light, and reappeared at Canterlot Castle’s front gates. The royal guards at the entrance shot each other a glance, before shrugging and opening the doorway.

Twilight had soon made her way to the throne room, where Celestia would normally be residing at this time of day. She passed by a long line of irritated-looking ponies that carried all the way to the throne room’s door, which had been shut tight by the pair of royal guards stationed at the entrance. As she approached, the guards opened the door and motioned at her to enter, earning her a series of sharp glares from the line behind her. Twilight cringed at the realization that Princess Celestia must have cancelled the rest of her audience hours to see her.

“Sorry! Important royal business,” she said weakly as she passed through the door.

As she entered the chamber, the door slammed itself shut forcefully behind her, locking itself with a distinctive click. True to her stated intentions, Princess Celestia sat alone atop her throne, with not even a single royal guard within the room. The elder princess’s horn glowed, and the door was surrounded by a pink aura that Twilight recognized as a powerful soundproofing spell.

“Princess Celestia... you said there was something you wanted to talk to me about?”

Celestia stood up from her throne and approached Twilight, regarding her with a deep sorrow in her eyes. “There are many things that I wish to discuss with you, Twilight. But first, there is something that I must ask you. Do you recall what it was that awakened the Elements of Harmony the first time I had sent you to Ponyville?”

Twilight lifted an eyebrow. “What? Of course I do! Each of that friends that I had made embodied one of the virtues that the Elements represented. Without them, there would have been nothing for the Elements to draw their power from.”

“And what of the Element of Magic in particular?” Celestia asked. “Do you remember what it was that brought it to you?”

“W-with all due respect, Princess, I don’t understand why you’re asking me this question,” Twilight stammered. “The Elements are an integral part of my friend’s history. To a significant extent, they each represent who we are. If this is some kind of test, then I don’t know what I’m being tested on right now.”

Celestia’s face remained absolutely firm. “It is not a test, Twilight Sparkle. There is something that I need you to understand, and to do so, you must understand what your Element draws its power from. What do you recall of the prophecy foretelling the Element of Magic’s appearance?”

“...That a spark would cause the sixth Element of Harmony to appear,” Twilight answered. “I didn’t realize it when I first read the prophecy, but that spark turned out to be an epiphany. It was a metaphor for the realization of how much my new friends meant to me. But I still don’t understa-”

“I understand that is what you had come to believe.” Celestia’s words remained firm even as she abruptly cut Twilight off. “Unfortunately, it is also untrue.”

Twilight’s jaw went slack. “Wha- untrue? B-but, Princess, that’s ridiculous! The Element of Magic literally embodies the magic of friendship! It’s the keystone that holds together everything the Elements of Harmony stand for! I-is this some kind of joke!? Because if it is, it isn’t funny!”

“Friendship is what the Element of Magic represents, and you would not have been able to harness its power if you did not understand what it meant to have friends,” Celestia replied. “But that alone could not have bound your Element to you. The spark spoken of in the prophecy is something else altogether.”

“Like what?” said Twilight.

“Patience, Twilight,” Celestia chided. “Everything will be clear soon enough. You said in your letter to me that your... ‘Planar Amulet’ would allow its bearer to travel between planes of existence, but that it only functioned when it used your magic specifically. That can only mean one thing: it was not the Amulet itself that let you travel to the space between worlds. That ability exists entirely within your own power.”

Twilight’s mouth hung agape. “En... entirely?”

“...And that brings me to the spark,” Celestia continued. “The spark is a metaphysical essence that one in every million souls is born with. The vast majority of those who bear the spark will live their entire lives without seeing one iota of its true power. But for an exceedingly rare few, the spark will ignite, and its bearer will become one of the few beings capable of traveling between planes of existence unaided. Your ignited spark is the spark spoken of in the prophecy. You, Twilight Sparkle, are a planeswalker.”

“I’m... a planeswalker?” Twilight had suddenly begun to feel dizzy. Her head spun, and she struggled to hold herself steady even though she was standing completely still. “But why? Why am I only learning of this now? Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Celestia’s expression softened as she looked into Twilight’s pleading eyes, and she let out a regretful sigh. “Because, in a fit of anger, I had declared that all memory of their kind be forever erased from Equestria. The last planeswalker to enter our world was a tyrant unrivaled by any foe you have ever encountered. He murdered my mentor and dearest friend in an attempt to steal the Elements of Harmony, all for a weapon he claimed to be his legacy. In the end, the Elements turned their power against him, forever banishing him from this plane. But that is a story for another day.”

“Y-your mentor? But that would mean....” Twilight’s eyes suddenly went wide as the realization dawned on her. “H-he murdered Star Swirl!?”

“Please!” Celestia blurted out. “I... I don’t wish to discuss it any further.”

“I...” Twilight looked into Celestia’s eyes, noticing the pool of tears that had already begun to form. “...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up. I... I think I understand why you didn’t tell me about planeswalkers. I wouldn’t want to be reminded of that either.”

“I still do not believe it was right of me to keep your planeswalker spark a secret from you,” said Celestia. “You are nothing like the man who killed my dearest friend. Either way, the prophecy said that a planeswalker spark was the only thing that could awaken the Element of Magic and save my sister from the Nightmare. I spent one thousand years searching for the pony who would bear that spark. The day you received your cutie mark, I knew it had to be you.”

“That was when my spark ignited?” said Twilight.

“That is correct,” said Celestia. “The Academy for Gifted Unicorns was one of hundreds of institutions I had created for the purpose of finding one with the spark. Your unusual aptitude with spells had convinced me that you were the most likely pony to be destined for the Element of Magic, and thus possess a planeswalker spark. To test this, I had placed a spell over the academy to detect if anything had left our plane of reality. Sure enough, at the very moment you received your cutie mark, you had unknowingly dipped yourself into the Blind Eternities, the space between planes. Not a fraction of a nanosecond later, you had returned, your newly awakened power surging out of your own control.” Celestia regarded Twilight sadly. “...I’m sorry that I did not tell you the truth sooner. It wasn't right for me to hide my intentions from you the entire time.”

The corners of Twilight Sparkle’s mouth turned upwards. “Princess Celestia... you don’t need to apologize to me. It doesn’t matter if you told me if I’m a planeswalker or not. You’ve helped me learn and grow in ways I never could have imagined. If it weren’t for your guidance, I would have never become the princess I am today.”

To Twilight’s surprise, Celestia flinched as though she had been physically struck. The tears in her eyes had continued to pool, and now they had already begun to start flowing down her cheeks.

“Princess Celestia!” Twilight reached out towards her with a hoof. “Are... are you okay? Is something wrong?”

When Celestia spoke, her voice had begun to waver. “Oh, Twilight... You don’t understand just what it is that I’ve done. It’s not just that I kept your true nature as a planeswalker a secret. When I had made you a princess, I... I had an ulterior movie.”

“Wha...” Twilight's brain skipped over itself as though it were a broken record, in its attempt to process the statement it had just heard. “An ulterior motive? I... I don't understand, Princess. What are you talking about?”

“I had told myself that you had earned your station through your own accomplishments,” Celestia tearfully replied. “And looking at all that you've become on your own, I can see that there was truth to that statement. But there was another reason that I couldn't find the courage to admit, even to myself. I... I was afraid.”

“A-afraid?” Twilight stammered. “Afraid of what?”

“I was afraid of losing you!” said Celestia, barely keeping herself from sobbing. “I was afraid that once you learned of your true abilities, you would leave this world behind!“

“Princess Celestia, that's ridiculous! I'd never leave-”

”And what would happen if you were to find yourself in danger!?” Celestia interrupted. “What would happen if your life was threatened on another plane and there was no way that anypony could reach you!? What would I do then!?”

The question had given Twilight pause. Her ears folded against her head as she answered. ”I... I don't know.”

”Then you understand why I wanted to keep you from planeswalking,” said Celestia. ”I gave you a duty to Equestria, and to all of its ponies, to ensure you would not have the opportunity to leave. Despite what I had tried to convince myself, I was not certain that you were ready for such a responsibility. You have proven yourself more than worthy since, but the truth is... I had still deceived you. I had manipulated you, because I was too cowardly to tell you the truth.”

”Princess Celestia, I...” Twilight turned her gaze away from Celestia, avoiding direct eye contact. A maelstrom of conflicting emotions had stirred within her, leaving a heavy, twisted feeling within her chest. ”...I have to go. I need time to think about this.” Her horn glowed, and she recited the teleportation spell in her thoughts. In the sudden haze that had clouded her mind, she did not even bother trying to scan the area of her destination.

The last thing she heard before vanishing was Celestia desperately calling her name.

———————

Twilight had suddenly found herself in her bedroom. It was a reckless move to teleport without taking the necessary precaution, but she had grown so intimately familiar with her castle that her mental map was more than accurate enough to complete the spell.

Her head spun as she considered the conversation she had just left. Becoming the Princess of Friendship was far and away the most important event of her entire life, but the knowledge that Princess Celestia had ulterior motives had rendered the memory distinctively bittersweet.

She understood Celestia's reasoning. She was afraid of losing her pupil, a feeling that Twilight knew all too well. Yet as easily as she could forgive Celestia for not telling her about the spark, the knowledge that Celestia did not initially believe in her as much as she had let on had stung. Twilight had trusted Princess Celestia more than any other pony in her life, but now doubt had begun to eat away at that trust. It almost made her feel sick to her stomach.

As she tried to sort her own emotions, her thoughts turned again to the Planar Amulet, and to her own capabilities. An idea slowly began to take shape within her. It sounded almost crazy when she repeated it back in her mind, but it was the only thing she had to make sense of her situation.

She had to prove Princess Celestia wrong. She had to prove that there was no reason to worry if she traveled to other planes. She had to prove that she could take care of herself in other worlds just as easily as in this one.

Twilight had no idea how to planeswalk, and yet that didn't stop her from trying. She focused her magic in the same way that she did when wearing the planar amulet, yet this time her desire was different. She did not merely wish to test her ability to travel between planes, but to exist within another plane altogether.

A light surrounded Twilight's vision, first engulfing herself, then everything else. She then felt herself being ripped away from her entire universe.

———————

When Twilight’s senses returned, she had found herself in an environment vastly different from the secure confines of her bedroom. It wasn’t the space between planes - the Blind Eternities as Celestia had called it - as she couldn’t feel the constant tingling beneath her skin. She raised a hoof to her eye, and wiped the last of the blurriness from her own vision.

What she saw was the most grotesque and horrifying sight she had ever seen.

She stood within the central area of a tattered, worn-down circus tent, with a massive crowd surrounding her on three sides. Many of them looked like the humans from the world beyond the Magic Mirror, but their skin tones were far less colorful and varied, and many of them didn’t even look human at all. Some of them had pointed ears like no human she’d ever seen, others were short and greenish with sharp teeth and hooked noses, and still others were completely translucent, as if they were entirely immaterial.

But more horrifying were the things she was in the circus with. In one corner she could see a lion tamer with a chair and a whip. The clothes he wore were made entirely from tanned animal hide, and he was covered in scars that appeared to be entirely self-inflicted. The “lion” he was taming was a disgusting creature that she was certain didn’t exist naturally, a haphazard amalgamation of a lion, centipede, and frog.

In another corner was an even more disgusting abomination balancing itself atop an inflatable beach ball. Like the frog-centipede-lion it was an amalgam of various animals, but where the creature before the “lion” tamer was clearly alive, this one was the work of what Twilight could only assume was a necromancer, a hideous misshapen animal skeleton constructed from the bones of who-knows-how-many different animals and reanimated with what must have been evil magic.

In the third corner was a decaying human corpse dressed as a clown, juggling a series of flaming batons, along with what were apparently its own severed legs.

Finally, in the far corner, furthest from herself and the audience, was someone dressed as a ringmaster. Twilight wasn’t sure what it was, but it most definitely wasn’t human. The closest thing she saw was the form Sunset Shimmer had taken when she donned the Element of Magic: sharp yellow teeth, vicious claws, leathery red skin, reptilian eyes, and bat-like wings. But even Sunset’s monstrous form could not compare to the sheer viciousness the creature seemed to project from itself just by existing.

The crowd jeered and booed at Twilight relentlessly, and all around her was the stench of death. The ringmaster gestured at her with his baton and hissed at her in a language she didn’t understand, but the murderous intent was absolutely clear in his beady, sunken eyes.

She had to get out of there. She had to get out of there right away.

Twilight lifted off from the ground at a speed that would make even Rainbow Dash envious, tearing a hole through the tent as she flew away and leaving the circus behind, never to look back again. She didn’t care where she was flying, only what she was flying from.

———————

For nearly his entire life on Ravnica, experimenting had been the one thing that made it worth living. He had spent so many years building up his reputation as an innovator, only to have it all snatched away in a single afternoon. His guildmaster was intensely displeased with the failure of Project Lightning Bug, and had made sure afterward to demote him to the most tedious research imaginable. It was all endless drudgery, mostly replicating the results of other researchers, with no chance to realize his true potential.

He supposed it was his fault for intentionally sabotaging the project, but it was a necessary sacrifice to conceal his secret. The Firemind was nothing if not avaricious in his desire for information, and there was no telling how he would react to the knowledge of planeswalkers, much less that the Living Guildpact himself was one. And that was to say nothing of how the other guilds would respond if they knew their sole mediator was absent from the plane for extended periods of time.

When the workday had finally ended, the guildmage quietly excused himself from the halls of his research station, into the busy streets that defined his home plane. There were several bars that he frequented within the district, and he had already decided which one he would visit that evening.

He had made it halfway to his destination through the bustling crowds when his attention was forcefully drawn skywards. As strange things happened in Ravnica with some regularity, most others paid no mind to it, but his eyes were far too keen to let it escape his notice.

It was a small equine that superficially resembled a pegasus, but with a large horn atop its head similar to the creatures known as unicorns on other planes. Its features were diminutive, with a shortened muzzle and large, front-facing eyes uncharacteristic of a typically herbivorous species. Most notably of all, its entire coat and mane consisted of unusually vibrant shades of purple.

Most others would likely write it off as another one of the Simic’s mutant experiments, but he had realized the truth almost instantly: the creature was not native to the plane of Ravnica.

Ral Zarek clasped his forehead with his fingertips and let out a deep sigh. It was going to be one of those days.

———————

Twilight, Alicorn Ascendant 1URW

Legendary Planeswalker — Twilight

+1: Twilight, Alicorn Ascendant deals 1 damage to up to one target creature. Up to one other target creature gains prowess until end of turn.
-1: Discard a card. If you do, draw two cards.
-6: You get an emblem with “You have no maximum hand size” and “Whenever you cast an instant or sorcery spell from your hand, you may put that card into your hand instead of into your graveyard as it resolves.”

Welcome to the Storm Herd

The landscape whizzed by Twilight at a lightning pace as she continued her flight path, frantically pushing herself as far away from the hideous circus as she could muster. Everything passed by her in a motion-induced blur, reducing the scenery to indistinct masses of stone and marble, though even at a moment’s glance it all seemed completely alien.

When fatigue finally began to creep its way into her body, her flight path slowed itself accordingly, until she came to a full stop. Her wings beat at a leisurely pace as she hovered in place, feeling the warm air rapidly pushing in and out of her lungs as she caught her breath.

With the immediate threat of danger left behind, Twilight took the time to finally observe her surroundings. What she saw almost immediately made her jaw drop.

To say that it was the largest city she had ever seen would be the greatest understatement to have ever crossed her lips. There were great marble spires, complex networks of streets and intersections, immense aqueducts, brass smokestacks, illustrious gardens, and decaying slums; no matter how diverse the architecture, none of it showed any signs of shrinking away from the vast urban sprawl. In all directions, all the way to the horizon and beyond, there nothing but more of the same city.

Meanwhile, in the corner of her eye, a massive, horizon-spanning cloud was quickly moving in her direction. An instinctual tingling in her spine pulled her attention away from the city and towards the foreign object. That the cloud moved on its own without foreign intervention was not particularly surprising, given the clouds in the parallel human world acted in much the same way, yet there was something else that she found distinctly unsettling about it. The way that it quickly rolled across the sky seemed almost organic, like the way a living creature would move.

Twilight squinted as the cloud came even closer, and could barely make out hundreds of individual units within it, each blending together to form a singular mass. She instantly felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach in a moment of sudden clarity.

The cloud that was rapidly approaching her wasn’t a cloud at all. It was a herd. More specifically, a herd of pegasi. Even more specifically, a herd of pegasi large enough to blot out the entire sky.

Without even a second thought, Twilight dove towards the ground, heading straight for the cover of one of the alleys underneath. As she was sandwiched between two immense stonework buildings, she instinctively backed against one of the walls and hid her face behind her wings, desperately hoping that they would somehow provide her some cover.

Everything began to grow dark, and with the thunderous sound of thousands of wings beating at once, the herd enveloped the sky. Despite her initial fear, Twilight couldn’t help but peek out from beneath her feathers to observe its passing.Though they moved by too quickly to get a close look at them, it was immediately clear that the pegasi were different from the ones in Equestria: they were much larger and leaner, and their heads appeared far more elongated than any pony native to Twilight’s home plane. At a glance, they reminded her much more of the horses that were found in the human world: more primitive and animalistic, lacking the intelligence to form an organized society. She suppressed a shudder at the thought, the idea of creatures so similar to herself being treated as common animals had never failed to disturb her.

Seconds ticked by, and the cacophony of wings and whinnys finally began to slow, the last straggling members of the herd passing overhead. Twilight exhaled sharply, letting the tension out of her body, and stood herself upright. She took a step forward, and froze in place as her hoof embedded itself in something soft, warm, and foul-smelling.

The word she shouted was normally considered an expletive, but this time it was also an accurate description of what she had stepped in.

———————

The last Ral saw of it, the unidentified creature had moved in a straight direction towards the southeast. It was far too fast for him to possibly hope to catch up to it, much less on foot, but he could make an educated guess towards where it would end up. Extrapolating from its flight path, it would soon end up flying directly into the Tenth District, where the Lyev commanded a powerful presence.

Ral’s fingers twitched anxiously, a reflexive static charge building in them. Azorius lawmages were the absolute last people he would want to deal with in a situation like this. Even in the best-case scenario, they could not possibly do anything other than get in the way.

Thankfully, Ral also had a contact in the area that was more than capable of providing information. He was a grubby sort, and not particularly bright, but if there was anyone there who would have heard talk of a bright purple equine in the skies, it would be him.

With renewed determination, Ral briskly made his way through the busy streets, towards the southeast.

———————

“Gross, gross, gross, gross, gross, gross...”

No matter how vigorously Twilight scraped her hoof against the ground, nothing could seem to shake off the crawling sensation just underneath her skin, and that was to say nothing of the smell. Desperate to clean away the filth, she lifted her soiled hoof and turned it towards her face. A small beam of searing energy shot forth from her horn and blasted away the last remnants of feces, instantly sterilizing whatever pathogens had come into contact with her.

The maneuver was met with a sharp cry of pain from Twilight, her hoof torched with so much heat that it began to glow bright red. She frantically waved her foreleg in front of her in an attempt to cool it off, eyes still watering from the blistering magic.

When the pain finally subsided, she set her hoof down, grimacing at the stinging sensation that ran up her leg as she placed her weight onto it. With a few tentative steps, the pain was reduced to a dull ache, and she was able to carry on as normal.

Stepping out towards the edge of the alleyway, she peered around the corner, careful not to go far out as to draw attention to herself. The street was as wide as some of the largest streets in Manehattan, though in place of the smoother material was a pavement made of rectangular quarried stone. All around were a patchwork of large buildings made of stone, marble, and concrete, and the thoroughfare itself was impressively crowded.

Most of those who made their way down the street were humans, though they were also joined by a multitude of others who didn’t quite seem to be human themselves. Some of them were short and hooked-nosed with greenish skin, others were unusually tall and hairless with bright blue skin, and still others were indistinguishable from humans save for their pointed ears and almost unnaturally graceful movements. Beyond that there were many more varieties of people she could see, and among them strange beasts of burden pushed their way through, carrying carts full of goods that she could only begin to speculate on. The only consistent thing about the members of the crowd was that they looked like nothing she’d seen on Equestria.

“I can’t go out looking like this,” Twilight mumbled. Everything she’d seen had shown that this world was uncaring at best and actively hostile at worst. She couldn’t afford to draw attention to herself.

Stepping back into the safety of the alleyway, Twilight’s horn ignited as she prepared a spell. Transforming herself into a true human would take spellcraft far more complex than she could manage without the Magic Mirror, but with the right amount of illusory magic she could make others perceive herself as one.

As the spell completed, she could feel her own perceptions shifting to accommodate the illusion, seeing her hooves transform into purple-hued hands. The knowledge that her body had not truly changed at all had left a minor headache lingering just beneath her skull, though it was a compromise she was more than willing to make.

“Okay, now comes the hard part,” Twilight said to no-one in particular. She stood up onto her hind legs, her quadrupedal body protesting with an uncomfortable knot in her spine, and her illusory body followed suit by standing upright along with her. The sensation caused her headache to intensify, as her actual body was still a good deal shorter than her illusory body even when standing upright. The spell altered her perceptions so that she saw solely from her false body's eyes, yet her real body still knew that her true eyes were much lower. The result was a series of conflicting sensations that caused her head to swim.

Using as much willpower as she could muster to suppress the disorientation, Twilight tentatively flexed the fingers on her illusory body, ignoring the complete lack of sensation in them. She then pressed her false hands against the familiar skirt and blouse that had materialized around her new body, observing how it pressed against the fabric. Theoretically, the illusion would be solid enough to manipulate objects, though even the slightest disruption of the spell would cause it to dissipate instantly. She would have to exercise extreme caution to maintain her disguise.

Even more worryingly, however, was that her skin retained the bright purple hue that it had in the world beyond the Magic Mirror. The humans of this world were not so colorful; the closest she saw were the blue-skinned beings that she was certain were not actually human at all.

Closing her eyes, Twilight reached into her inner magic and adjusted the spell, visualizing an appropriate color. When she opened her eyes, her illusory skin had turned to a light, sandy brown.

“I'm pretty sure that’s the average human skin tone I’ve seen here,” said Twilight. “I just hope this works...”

Moving carefully to avoid losing her balance, she stepped out and into the streets. Almost immediately, the sounds of the bustling crowd started intensifying her headache. The masses of people moving through traffic bumped into and jostled her, causing sharp spikes of pain that stood out even in the midst of the steady pounding sensation underneath her horn.

Twilight shook her head vigorously. Pushing herself through the pain, she walked among the crowd, her entire body filling with resolve. She needed to find answers; about the plane, about its culture, about everything. And in any civilization, there was always one place where that information would be kept.

Twilight turned to face a human in an elaborate white tunic passing by. “Excuse me, do you know where I can find a library?”

The man stopped to give Twilight an odd look, one that was equal parts bewilderment and surprise. After a moment, he shrugged and continued walking.

Disappointed, but far from discouraged, Twilight began turning her attention towards the other passerby. Much to her chagrin, they proved to be equally unhelpful, most of them ignoring her outright, and the few that didn’t doing nothing but giving ever more perplexed stares.

Come to think of it, quite a lot people in the street were staring. It had taken a while to notice, but just by walking past she managed to attract more than her fair share of prying eyes. A small bubble of panic welled up within her stomach, only to quickly dissipate when she looked down and realized her illusion was still holding.

There must be something else drawing everyone’s attention to her, but what it was she couldn’t say. Regardless, asking random people on the street had proven to be unproductive, and she realized that she would have to turn her focus elsewhere.

Twilight glanced around at the buildings nearby, many-storied works of architecture used for a variety of purposes. Most of them were labeled, but they were all written in a language that Twilight couldn’t understand.

There was one sign, however, that she could immediately recognize. It was wooden sign hung with metal chains on a post, just above the first-story entrance of an old stone building. Painted on its surface was a large glass mug, filled with a frothy, amber-colored beverage. Through the cracked glass windows she could see a massively long countertop with dozens of stools, and a large number of diverse patrons in various states of consciousness.

Though it was far from the ideal place to ask for directions, it was the only building in sight she knew what to expect from.

“Guess I’m heading to a tavern now,” Twilight muttered.

———————

Anthropomorph 1(w/u)

Enchantment — Aura

Flash
Enchant creature
Enchanted creature is a Human with base power and toughness 0/2.
When enchanted creature becomes the target of a spell or ability, sacrifice Anthropomorph.

Search the City (for a Decent Pub)

The interior of the tavern was lit by a series of glyphs painted onto the ceiling, glowing with a very bright light that simultaneously managed to be softer than any lamp or lantern. The overall effect was very pleasant, making the entire building seem warm and inviting.

Once again Twilight could make out an astounding amount of diversity among them, so much so that she no longer even bothered to try to observe all of their differences. Somehow, in the short time she had spent on the plane it had all become normal to her.

The only people that stood out among the crowd were several human figures clad in gleaming silver plate mail, with long indigo capes that seemed altogether too still even without a noticeable air current. Everything about their armor was meticulously crafted, from the carefully-engraved runes to the fastidiously-tied sashes to the near-perfect symmetry of design, save for a scant few asymmetries that were placed with geometric precision. The swords they carried in their scabbards were remarkably broad, widest at the hilt and tapering sharply towards the end, granting them the shape of an elongated isosceles triangle. Their open-faced chainmail coifs each revealed expressions that were unreadable, save for an unblinking, ironclad gaze.

Twilight felt a shiver run down the already uncomfortable knot in her back. Whoever these soldiers served, their very presence projected a palpable aura of authority and utmost devotion to order. They were almost certainly enforcers of some kind, though what laws they upheld she could only guess. Ignoring the thought, along with the ever-present headache from the conflicting sensations of her illusory self, Twilight made her way over to an unoccupied space by the bar.

The bartender was another one of the short, green, hook-nosed humanoids that she had seen throughout the city. His gnarled skin was covered in a multitude of scars and blemishes, and a single black eyepatch was tied around his left eye. As Twilight stood at an empty space by the bar, she watched as the bartender grabbed a shot glass in his left hand, and then reached for a countertop containing a series of liquors and mixers.

Then, in a stunning display of dexterity, he grabbed a bottle of liquor and tossed it into the air, following suit with two other bottles, and then finally the shot glass in the air. His arms moving in a blur of motion, he expertly juggled the cocktail ingredients. In the span of a second the shot glass perfectly upright on the countertop, and in the even shorter time between catching the bottles and throwing them back into the air, he poured small amounts of into the shot glass. When the glass was full, he tossed each of the bottles behind his back, where they landed on the countertop perfectly, without so much as a crack in the glass or a drop of alcohol out of place.

The bartender snapped his fingers, and Twilight felt a tingle of residual magic as a small flame appeared on the tip of his thumb. He placed the fire against the edge of the shot glass, causing the cocktail to burst into flames. Then with his other hand he pushed it down the bar, where it came to a stop in front of a woman with goggles adorning her forehead, and red hair that almost looked to have more fire in it than than the drink in front of her. She downed the entire shot glass in a single motion, literally swallowing the flames without the slightest hint of discomfort.

Twilight couldn’t do anything but stare at the entire display. As she gawked, the tavern erupted into cheers and applause, and the red-haired woman stood up from her chair and turned around, a smirk adorning her face as she took a short bow towards her onlookers. Meanwhile the silver-clad soldiers glared at her, their expression both familiar and disapproving, and Twilight noticed that their fingers were now barely brushing against the grips of their swords. The red-haired woman seemed to notice this, and responded by sticking out her tongue. The soldiers became visibly more tense, though they did not move from their position.

Twilight’s stomach churned; she realized that a bar brawl was more of a possibility than she’d initially expected. Multiple scenarios played in her mind in which a fight had broken out into the tavern. In every single one of them, her disguise was broken, and she was forced to fend for herself against foes much more well-equipped for combat than she was. While she had no idea what kind of magic the silver-clad soldiers were capable of, her mind immediately went to what was simultaneously the most plausible and worst-case scenario. If they were truly the enforcers of the law as she assumed, they would no doubt be able to nullify magic with ease. Especially so if a discipline as exotic and dangerous as pyromancy was common enough to be used for bartending tricks.

She was suddenly snapped back to reality when the bartender approached her and spoke to her, though Twilight was too preoccupied in her own imagination to notice what he had said.

“Oh, sorry! I got distracted for a second there,” she said. “I’m uh... not from around here. Do you know where I could find a library? Nobody outside seems to want to talk to me.”

The bartender looked taken aback, lips curling as he raised a single eyebrow. “Quedi?”

Twilight’s eyes went wide. “Ack! Language barrier! I forgot about the language barrier!” She grabbed the side of her head, pulling at her illusory body’s hair. “Hold on, I can fix this!”

Inhaling deeply, she focused inwards on her magic, and shaped it as it flowed outwards from her. Casting the spell alongside the illusion she was maintaining placed a heavy strain on her mind, but with unshakable resolve she pushed through regardless, until she felt the spell wash over her. Almost immediately, the background noise of the tavern changed; though the conversations were too drowned out in one another to make out, they way they registered in her perceptions was much clearer.

Twilight let out a sigh and then looked directly at the bartender, who seemed more baffled than ever. “Can you understand me now?”

“Er... I ‘fink so, yeah,” said the bartender, his speech strangely accented. “Not exactly sure what you were trying to say before. Last I checked, nobody in the neighborhood speaks ‘orse.”

Twilight could almost feel her cheeks turning red. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it, I swear!”

The bartender laughed. “‘Ey, relax! I’m just ‘aving a bit of a giggle, no hard feelings or anyfing. So, what’ll it be?”

Twilight reflexively put her hoof behind her head, and her illusory body followed suit. “I, uh... I’m not here to drink, actually. I just... moved here, and need directions. Do you know where I could find a public library?”

“A library, eh?” said the bartender. “Well, if you ain’t looking for anyfing secret, the Azorius have one not too far from ‘ere. Most of it’s guild members only, but there’s a public section last I ‘eard. Just ‘ead left on the street once you get out the door, take a right at the third intersection you see, and keep going straight. Eventually you’ll see a massive complex of archives, you should find the main library right in the center. Can’t miss it.”

“Yes!” Twilight cheered. “Thank you! Thank you so much! This is everything that I’ve needed!”

“No worries, miss,” the bartender replied. “Be careful out there, eh? The Tenf’s a busy place, you never know what you’ll run into.”

“Don’t worry, I will!” With that Twilight waved goodbye, briskly walking away from the bar and out the front door. For the first time since she’d arrived on the plane, it seemed like things were working out okay.

She was so happy that she didn’t even care when she tripped and fell flat on her face on the way out.

———————

Rarely, Twilight found, was it the case that someone who said ‘you can’t miss it’ when giving directions was actually referring to something she couldn’t miss. But in this particular case, what she was looking for really was impossible to miss.

The path that she followed per the bartender’s directions led her down a road of increasingly pristine and elaborate buildings, until it terminated in a truly enormous circle surrounding a gargantuan fountain. Powerful jets of water sprayed forcefully from openings surrounding the basin, arcing in the air before landing in a crystal-clear pool. In the center of the basin was a pedestal, atop which rested a great marble sculpture of a sphinx, its wings spread wide and its eyes staring forward with unshakable resolve.

But even more impressive than that were the buildings that surrounded it. Calling them ‘a massive complex of archives’ could not have possibly done justice to their description. The great limestone buildings were each elegantly crafted, with flying buttresses, great arches, clustered columns, and towering spires tipped with gold. The central building dwarfed them all, an enormous work of architecture that was nearly as large as Canterlot Castle itself. The primary entrance was a truly gargantuan set of wooden doors, one of which was perpetually held open by an unseen force, allowing people to enter and exit without interruption. Above the doors was a circular window of stained glass, depicting an unfamiliar symbol: a triangular shape with a circular pattern of mazelike runes in the center, all of which was colored in distinctive shades of blue.

Aside from the buildings, Twilight noted that though there were dozens of people traveling across the campus at any given moment, most of them were human, and most of them were dressed similarly to one another. There were many of the silver-clad soldiers she had seen in the tavern before, but they were outnumbered by people who wore ornate white robes decorated with golden trim. Whether they were scholars or members of some other profession was unknown to her, but it was clear that they were all of considerably high social status.

With bated breath, she walked past the enormous fountain and through the door to the central building, just as she had been told. What she saw nearly unhinged her jaw.

Inside the building was easily the largest library she had seen in her life. Light from the central stained glass window illuminated massive shelves nearly a hundred feet tall, adorned with equally tall ladders attached to them on rails. Each shelf was lined with thousands upon thousands of books and scrolls, enough that Twilight could imagine spending centuries reading them and never reach the end.

Massive wooden study tables lined the halls, with library patrons diligently reading through their chosen material. Golems made entirely from books and scrolls patrolled the building, organizing and replacing the books on the shelves, some with the items that made up their own bodies. Just beyond the front door was a large circular desk, behind which were nearly a dozen librarians attending to checkouts and returns of several lines of people. Even further behind them was a massive marble slab, nearly as tall as the bookshelves, with directory information engraved in an enormous, bold font.

Twilight stood in place, her entire body numb as she stared at the scenery. She felt a silent shudder make its way up her spine, tears welling in her eyes from the nearly overwhelming sight. The only thing she could bring herself to speak was a single sentence, whispered in reverence.

“It’s... it’s beautiful...”

———————

It wasn’t long before Ral found himself well within the boundaries of the Tenth District. Navigating the streets and passages there was almost reflexive to him, the layout of the district being as familiar as the back of his own hand.

In a way it felt nostalgic, yet that nostalgia was tinged with bitterness. The Tenth was where he’d spent much of his youth, running from the Lyev and stealing whatever food he could to survive; if the Izzet hadn’t taken him in, he would have likely died on the inside of a jail cell. Yet despite the memories of the closest thing he had to a home, he got over being reassigned to another district very quickly. Or perhaps it was because of those memories.

Regardless, sentimentality wouldn’t get him anywhere. He had a job to do, and quickly.

Ral deftly made his way through the busy streets, a task made easier by pedestrians making an active effort to move out of his path. The garb of an Izzet guildmage was unmistakable, and few were brave enough to approach someone who could casually rip the laws of thermodynamics to shreds. The familiar route took him to a building advertised by a wooden sign with a frothy mug of ale painted on it.

The bartender’s eyes lit up as Ral entered the tavern, and approached the countertop. “Well, if it ain’t Ral Zarek! It’s been a bloody long time since I’ve seen you around ‘ere! ‘Ow’ve you been?” In just three sentences, the goblin had managed to encapsulate his entire personality: mildly vulgar, yet unrelentingly cordial. It was no wonder he had become one of the closest things Ral had to a friend.

“I’m afraid I don’t have time for the usual bar visit, Gnib,” Ral replied. “I’m here because I need information.”

“Sounds like you’ve been awful busy these days,” said Gnib. “That draconic narcissist ain’t been working you too ‘ard lately, I ‘ope?”

Ral’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “That depends entirely on what you mean. Either way, it’s not important right now. There’s a rare magical beast I’m pursuing, and I need to know if you’ve heard anything about it.”

“Sure fing,” said Gnib. “Can you describe it for me?”

“It looks like a pegasus, but it’s like no other pegasus you’ve seen,” said Ral. “It’s smaller, about the size of a pony, and has a rounded face, large eyes, and a single horn on its forehead. And its entire body is bright purple.”

Gnib gave Ral a quizzical look. “Sounds pretty strange, but can’t say I’ve ‘eard of anyfing like that,” he said. “Although, now that you mention it... I fink I might have met someone who could ‘ave been related to that earlier.”

Bingo. “What did you see?” said Ral.

“There was this strange ‘uman girl who came in ‘ere a while ago,” said Gnib. “Wore these weird-looking clothes I ain’t never seen before, and ‘ad a bit of a wobble when she walked, like she ain’t used to being on two legs. Then, no joke, she came up and started whinnying at me! Almost felt like giving ‘er a bag of oats right then.”

Ral’s fingers twitched slightly. It was worse than he thought: the extraplanar creature was not only sapient, it could disguise its appearance. His muscles tensed, and he placed his palm on the table with an audible thud from the weight of his gauntlet. “And what did you do? I need you to tell me as much as possible.”

“‘Ey, take it easy there,” said Gnib. “Don’t stress yourself out, you’ll live longer.”

“Dammit Gnib, this is important!” Ral shot back. “My entire livelihood is at stake here!”

“You wanna know that bad, eh?” said Gnib. “To be perfectly honest, there ain’t a whole lot else to say. When I asked her what she said, she cast some kind of spell, and then spoke to me in perfect Ravnican. She then asked me where the nearest library was, and I pointed ‘er to the Azorius archives. If my ‘unch is correct, that girl’s the same creature you’ve been after, probably using somefing to make ‘erself look like an ordinary person. Definitely knew more magic than a pegasus, that’s for certain.”

It didn’t take long for Ral to piece together all of the information. The creature’s appearance not only showed extraplanar origin, it was capable of divination magic advanced enough to translate from a language that didn’t even resemble humanoid speech. It could disguise its appearance through some form of illusion, and was intelligent enough to seek out, and presumably understand, written information about Ravnica.

He was no longer dealing with a beast of extraplanar origin. He was dealing with a planeswalker. And she was right in the middle of the largest Azorius building within twenty-five miles.

“Thank you, Gnib,” Ral said curtly. “I need to leave. Right now.”

“No worries, guv! Take care!”

Ral could feel the electricity coursing through his spine as he rapidly walked out the door, pushing himself forward with renewed vigor. He was only just able to restrain himself enough to avoid running at a full sprint.

———————

Informant's Gossip 1RR

Sorcery

Search your library for a nonland card, exile it, then shuffle your library. You may cast that card this turn.

Rumors are as valuable as they are fleeting.

Author's Note

This chapter was originally supposed to be longer, but I decided to split it up into two chapters to help it be paced better, since it could become exhausting to read otherwise. If you're familiar with my other epic-length fanfiction, you'll know this is something I tend to do a lot. :twilightsheepish:

While it won't be mentioned in the narrative, the buildings of the Azorius archives in this chapter were actually a gift from the Orzhov... "gift" being a euphemism for "bribe," of course.

Legends & Libraries

Twilight had been able to read the directory information easily enough, thanks to the aid of her translation spell. Even a first-level comprehend languages would allow her to understand any written language to be understood on a basic level, and the advanced fourth-level spell she’d invented was capable of more on top of that. It not only improved on the original by allowing two-way verbal communication, but also allowing her to instantly understand nuances and connotations that a direct translation would not have offered.

Of course, given the ubiquity of the Equestrian language on her home plane, she’d never in her life expected to truly find a use for it. Come to think of it, she didn’t even need to use it in the human world, which was utterly bizarre. Why would they speak Equestrian?

Maybe I should stop thinking of it as “the human world,” since humans are here, too. What did Sunset call it in the journal again? Anthropia?

Twilight’s idle train of thought continued from there as she followed the directory map to the public section of the library, past the gargantuan bookshelves and massive study tables. All around her, white-robed scholars were thoroughly absorbed in their studies. A casual glance at the bookshelf labels showed that they were all legal reference materials. Given the hundreds of thousands of books and scrolls, it could only mean that the plane had a truly labyrinthine legal system. It was yet another curiosity that had wormed its way into her mind.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t even notice the runes etched into the floor, which started glowing as her illusory body passed by them.

Eventually following the directions led her to a small wooden door, where a small sign hung above indicated the entrance to the library’s public collection. As she reached out and grabbed the doorknob, she could feel herself beginning to shake with anticipation. She slowly opened the door, eager to see the treasures that awaited her inside.

“...You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The public section of the library was absolutely tiny, a single room barely any bigger than Twilight’s own bedroom. There were only seven bookshelves in total, three lining the walls apart from the door, and four more in the center, crammed around a single desk. The room was dark, with no windows or artificial illumination, and there was a thin layer of dust on top of every visible surface.

Twilight stifled a cough as she entered the room. Seeing the public collection’s puny size was disappointing, but seeing its complete disuse was outright infuriating. The owners of the library had so much knowledge at their disposal, and not only did they gate off all but the absolute tiniest amount from the public, they considered the little that they did share a complete afterthought.

Focus, Twilight, she reminded herself. Feeling the tension building within her chest, Twilight took a deep breath, briefly lapsing into a cough as the dust invaded her lungs. When she recovered, she promptly went over to the bookshelves, searching for anything that could give her information about the plane.

Thankfully, her search proved to be fruitful very quickly. Browsing the shelves, she found several books on the plane’s history and geography that she could make use of. She sat down on the desk, and cast a simple dancing lights spell. Four glowing orbs appeared in the air, above the desk, two blue, one red, and one white, illuminating the space just enough for her to read.

The plane she was currently in, she’d learned, was called Ravnica. The name was synonymous with its largest city, which since the ancient days had grown so vast that it encompassed nearly the entire world. Everything outside of it was a collection of loosely-organized urban centers; even the places Ravnicans considered to be wilderness remained covered in gargantuan stonework ruins. There wasn’t a single part of the plane that was not at some point touched by civilization.

The very idea of a city taking up an entire world was mind-boggling, and Twilight struggled to think of how the logistics of such a world would be managed. She found her answer, more or less, in the ten guilds that ruled Ravnica.

The first mentioned in her books were the Azorius. They were the same guild that owned and operated the library, and were the official government of Ravnica, or so they claimed. In particular, the silver-clad soldiers she had seen in the bar were the Lyev, the enforcing arm of the Azorius, while the white-robed scholars in the library were likely either part of the Sova or Jelenn, the judicial and legislative branches. Even from the most neutral descriptions, it was clear that they were above all obsessed with following procedure to the exact detail, and viewed the law not as a means to achieve justice but as an end in itself. To them, the law existed to enforce the law, and the more laws there were the better.

Similar to the Azorius were the Boros Legion, a military organization that at times acted as a fierce rival to the Azorius, and at other times they worked together with them. But while the Azorius maintained their power through the construction of an impenetrable bureaucracy, the Boros were much more direct. Their military was highly organized and dedicated to keeping the peace, but procedure was ultimately considered secondary to asserting their own vision of justice. The history texts had described several notable times when they had clashed with the Azorius over disputes on how to enforce the law.

The responsibility of Ravnica’s infrastructure fell on a guild called the Izzet. They were builders of roads, boilers, sewers, aqueducts, steam power, and many more of the technological innovations that drove Ravnican civilization. More than that, however, they were also described as researchers on the cutting-edge of magical study, always pushing the limitations of what could be accomplished with spellcraft. Twilight felt herself almost immediately fascinated with the guild, yet she felt a strong sense of apprehension reading all of the magical disasters that they had created... as well as a very uncomfortable familiarity. They had little to no regard for public safety, despite being responsible for many major public works.

Food, meanwhile, was largely provided by the Golgari. At first glance they were utterly repulsive to Twilight’s sensibilities, a group largely consisting of necromancers and undead, feeding off of the waste and decay of the plane and using it as fodder for rot farms, which comprised an enormous portion of Ravnica’s agriculture. Yet the more Twilight thought about it, the more she became aware that it was a grim necessity: in a world with little arable land waste had to be recycled as efficiently as possible to sustain the population.

Any efforts at conserving what little of nature remained in Ravnica fell into the hands of the Simic Combine, a group most accurately described as bioengineers. In the past, they were said to have repeatedly attempted to “improve” Ravnica by forcibly altering the genetics of others, even against their will. The thought was profoundly disturbing, but modern descriptions of the Simic showed that they had moved closer towards their original stated goal of conservation, though they were still widely known to create artificial lifeforms for that purpose. It had occurred to Twilight that the strange lion-centipede-frog she’d seen in the circus was most likely a Simic creation.

Of course, the circus itself certainly wasn’t owned by the Simic. That would have likely fallen under the domain of the Rakdos, a demonic cult dedicated exclusively to reckless and often destructive hedonism. They were infamous among Ravnica for being murderers, torturers, thugs, and rioters, but very disturbingly they were also stated to operate large sectors of Ravnica’s entertainment industry, enough to fund most of the guild’s activities. The Rakdos owned or managed a huge selection of nightclubs, theatres, tattoo parlors, gladiator games, casinos, and even party planning services, the lattermost of which briefly brought an image of Pinkie Pie as a Rakdos bloodwitch to Twilight’s mind. She shuddered as she tried her best to discard the thought, hoping that she would never again imagine such a thing.

In stark contrast to the self-destructive chaos of the Rakdos, the Selesnya were life-affirming and harmonious... at least, until Twilight cared to research them beyond her first impressions. Though they preached the sanctity of life, it was almost universally shown in historical records that they were utterly hypocritical, seeing their own troops as completely expendable in inter-guild conflicts. But most disturbingly of all, they seemed to almost universally frown upon the very concept of individuality, expecting their own guild members to abandon their personal identities and be subsumed into their collective. It had reminded her of Starlight Glimmer’s past actions, only somehow it managed to be several orders of magnitude more disturbing, as the Selesnya were one of the most powerful political forces in the entire world.

Among the most alien of the guilds were the Orzhov, enough that they were difficult for Twilight to comprehend at first. Organized religion had always been a foreign concept to most of Equestria, and while ponies usually had some form of spiritual beliefs, it was generally no more than an afterthought in everyday life. The Orzhov were, on the surface, vaguely similar to the religious organizations that existed in several ancient cultures on her world, yet there was something distinctly different about them. In no culture had she ever heard of a religion acting as a bank or a credit-lending agency, and the idea of the Orzhov being either of those made her uneasy for reasons she didn’t fully understand.

The Gruul Clans were, in many respects, the exact opposite of most of the other guilds, in that they weren’t really a guild at all. The historical records showed that they had once been in charge of preserving Ravnica’s natural lands, but their function was quickly subsumed by the Simic, and they were pushed to the fringes of society. What remained was a loose affiliation of clans that lived on the fringes of Ravnican society, actively rebelling against the inevitable encroach of civilization.

Finally, there were the Dimir. The guild was far and away the most frustrating to research, as aside from a few brief references to them operating a network of spies and information brokers, there was next to nothing said about them at all. Most of the older books didn’t even mention that the Dimir existed at all, and some even went so far as to say that there were only nine guilds in total. Whatever they were, they had clearly gone through painstaking efforts to conceal as much information about themselves as they could.

As Twilight continued to read about each of the guilds, there was a slow, creeping suspicion that she had planeswalked straight into a dystopian nightmare. Not a single one of the guilds was an entity she would trust with the power to rule an entire plane. Worse, she had quickly learned that the Guildpact, the magically binding document that kept them from all-out war, had been destroyed some time ago. Unless there was something she had missed, there was nothing that could prevent the guilds from destroying Ravnica if they came into conflict again.

Before she could consider the implications any further, a loud knocking came in the door. Twilight opened her mouth to answer, but didn’t even get a chance to respond as a small squadron of silver-clad Lyev burst into the room, brandishing long polearms with silvery, triangular spearheads. The frontmost soldier was dressed in a slightly more elaborate set of armor than the others, the extra sashes seeming to indicate some form of authority.

“Eep! I-I mean, hello! How can I help you, um... officer? Can I call you that?”

“Silence, miscreant!” the leader of the soldiers spat. “You are under arrest for the unauthorized use of divination, evocation, and illusion magic on guild property!”

“W-what?” Twilight immediately felt the icy grip of panic clutching at her lungs. Her imagination swirled with vivid images of punishments that the fastidious lawmakers could inflict on her. “Please, wait! I-I didn’t know!”

Her words were summarily ignored, as the leader raised an open hand towards Twilight. His palm glowed with crackling blue magic, and a triangular rune appeared in front of it, the same symbol of the Azorius that adorned the library entrance. Twilight instinctively closed her eyes as rune shot towards her, and her body surged with pain as she was knocked to the ground.

When she opened her eyes again, she found that both her illusion and her dancing lights had been dispelled, and her body was bound in a series of hollow triangles formed from magic, pinning her limbs to her sides. She desperately tried to call upon her magic, but another triangle surrounded her horn and cut off the flow of magic before it could materialize, sending a sharp spike of pain into her skull.

Her entire body trembling, she looked up as the soldiers spoke to each other in the Ravnican language, no longer comprehensible to her ears. Their faces were inscribed with expressions of surprise and bewilderment, in stark contrast to the ironclad stoicism that they normally displayed.

Finally, one of the soldiers approached her, pulled a sword from a scabbard by his side, and clocked Twilight on the head with the hilt. Her head spun from the impact, and Twilight promptly blacked out.

———————

Ral made his way to the Azorius library as quickly as he could without breaking into a full run. The speed at which he traversed the streets had prompted many a stare from the passerby, but he no longer cared to avoid attracting more attention than necessary to himself. Besides, he was an Izzet guildmage. People were going to think he was up to some something bizarre and potentially dangerous no matter what he was doing.

The library was not, strictly speaking, off-limits to members of other guilds, but the disapproving glares he received from the many Azorius scholars as he approached it made it clear he was not welcome. There could any number of laws he’d never heard of that he’d likely break without even realizing, and the Lyev would jump at the first opportunity to arrest him under them. Yet still he pressed on, knowing that the trouble the equine planeswalker could cause was several orders of magnitude worse.

His worst fears were confirmed when he approached the library entrance, and saw a squadron of Lyev arresters carrying the pony-like creature’s unconscious body out the door. He was too late. A rival guild had a planeswalker in their captivity, and there was no way he could even begin to approach the problem without inviting interguild conflict. Not without the help of the one person who could resolve such disputes.

Ral’s lips twisted into a scowl. Beleren. It always has to come back to you, doesn’t it?

———————

Legend Lore 1U

Sorcery

Look at the top three cards of your planar deck. Put one of them on top and the rest on the bottom of your planar deck in any order.

Draw a card. (You draw this card from your library, not your planar deck.)

Planeswalking is not a task for the unprepared.

Author's Note

I'd debated whether to include the exposition about the guilds in this chapter, since many of my readers would likely be familiar with them already. In the end I decided to go with including it, since I have had one or two readers commenting that they haven't kept up with MtG's storyline in a while, and because I thought it'd be nice to have Twilight's first impressions of the guild system made clear.

This chapter's card is one that's meant to be exclusively used in the Planechase format, which has each player using a second deck of oversized cards representing planes, each with their own effect on the game, and a planar die that allows them to "planeswalk" to the next card in the deck if they roll the planeswalker symbol. A popular house rules variant has each player sharing a single planar deck, in which case this card would effect that deck rather than their own planar deck.

Implicit Neighs

“And what... find yourself... danger...?”

Stirring from the depths of unconsciousness, visions and voices spun within Twilight’s mind, like snapshots of her life that had been cut to pieces and sent swirling at the edges of her awareness. Thoughts and memories of a world she called home, yet could not have felt farther away.

Her head still throbbed from the assault she’d suffered, as she became painfully more aware of by the second. She felt a cold, hard stone floor pressing against her side, loose pebbles becoming uncomfortably wedged between her feathers.

As her eyes pried themselves open, she found herself lying on the floor of a jail cell. The walls were built from bricks in an oppressive shade of grey, and the single barred window only allowed the smallest sliver of sunlight through. A wooden bench suspended by chains hung on the wall opposite the bars, and a simple latrine was dug into the corner, its stench making it clear that it hadn’t been cleaned in a while.

As Twilight apprehensively stood to her hooves, she attempted to cast a simple light spell as a test. A rune that had previously escaped her notice on the ceiling began to glow sky blue in response, and her horn was encompassed by a similar glow, drilling a sharp burning sensation into her skull as the spell was forcibly suppressed.

Twilight’s body started to tremble, as her utter helplessness began to truly sink in. It was exactly as Princess Celestia had feared. She was trapped and detained in another world, completely alone, and there was no one who could possibly help her. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she gave off a series of quiet, pained sobs.

————————

Jace loudly sipped his coffee, finishing the last of the hot drink. In the days since becoming the Living Guildpact, caffeine had virtually fueled his entire existence on Ravnica, keeping him awake through long nights of bureaucratic work. Being the embodiment of Ravnica’s foundational law had proven to be remarkably tedious.

He shuffled the papers laid out on his desk, digesting the legalistic information they presented. The documents were messily scattered about the desk in much the same way his belongings were scattered about his personal library, a collection of stray books, charts, and illusory diagrams from his projects. Despite looking like an utter mess, it was far from disorganized: Jace knew exactly where he had left everything at all times.

He was quickly distracted by series of steady, dull thuds that started sounding in the background, no doubt Gideon practicing on a punching bag. It had been a fairly major adjustment learning to live with three other planeswalkers (and Liliana, who lived elsewhere but frequently barged in like she owned the place) but it was a change that he quickly learned to accept. Despite their differences, their common oath had bound the Gatewatch together, and Jace had to admit he had grown fond of having them around.

There was a sudden knock on the door. Or, more accurately, a knock on a door in another part of the city, carried through one of the many Izzet teleportals that connected his home to multiple disparate locations. From the direction of the sound, the knocking came from a door that currently led elsewhere in the Tenth District, around two miles away.

Jace scooted out of his chair and pulled his hood over his head as he approached the door. Since his return from Innistrad, he had allowed rumors of the Gatewatch to spread across other planes, passing along different planeswalkers who may require their services. The visitor could be someone who sought their help, but it could just as easily be one of the many enemies that Jace had made in his lifetime. He instinctively gathered enough mana for several counterspells, just in case.

Sending out a mental probe that would allow him to see through the door and past the teleportal, his fears were seemingly confirmed. Standing beyond it was Ral Zarek, a man whose ego had frequently brought the two into conflict. He knocked on the door again, much more forcefully this time.

“Dammit, Beleren, answer the door! I swear to the stars, if you’re not on this plane...”

Jace sighed, and reached for the door handle. He’d briefly considered turning himself invisible and having an illusory doppelganger answer the door, but the last time he’d tried that it had utterly failed to fool anyone. Ral Zarek knew his abilities and was clever enough to see right through them.

Jace cautiously opened the door and stepped outside. “Ral Zarek,” he greeted. “I’m curious to know how you managed to find this door.”

“You’re using an unauthorized network of Izzet teleportals based on my own personal design,” said Ral. “I’m almost insulted you thought I wouldn’t notice.”

Jace arched an eyebrow. He’d made sure to purchase the teleportals from third-party vendors on the black market, and had erased their memory of the transaction afterwords. “That raises a lot more questions than it answers. But most importantly, just what are you doing here?”

Ral breathed in deeply, his face distorting into a pained expression. “I can’t believe I’m saying this a second time, but I need your help.”

Now this was starting to get interesting. Ral Zarek was a bitter rival of Jace, and a particularly sore loser. The one time he had requested help before was when the very political stability of Ravnica was under dire threat.

“I’m listening,” said Jace.

“There’s a strange equine in the Tenth District,” said Ral. “And it’s currently in the custody of the Azorius. And as crazy as it sounds, I believe this creature is a planeswalker. I need your help getting it out of there before any of the guilds realize what it is.”

Jace blinked. “An equine. Like a horse.”

Ral let out a frustrated sigh. “Yes, I know how absurd it sounds.”

“And you think it’s a planeswalker,” Jace deadpanned.

“It’s bright purple, has the wings of a pegasus and the horn of a unicorn, and looks like it came straight out of a children’s picture book,” said Ral. “And it’s not only sapient, it can disguise itself as a human with advanced illusion magic. It has its own equine language, Beleren. Do you expect me to think that a creature like that is native to Ravnica?”

Jace paused. It certainly didn’t sound like any creature from Ravnica. Even the Simic wouldn’t think to engineer an equine that was capable of higher thought. “No, probably not,” he admitted. “But I’m not entirely sure if I believe you. This story still sounds more than a little bit far-fetched.”

Ral rolled his eyes. “Alright, you’ve caught me. I’m lying to the plane's most famous mind-reader. I don’t know how you managed to foil such a foolproof plan.”

He had a point beneath the sarcasm. Ral Zarek was understandably offended by the prospect of having his thoughts read like an open book, but there was nothing stopping Jace from doing so apart from his own sense of common courtesy.

Of course, the possibility that Ral was using his sarcasm to deflect suspicion never left Jace’s mind. He could be leading Jace directly into a trap, possibly out of spite for being beaten in the Implicit Maze, possibly as a part of some grander scheme. Yet it still seemed unlikely that Ral would deliberately harm Jace, knowing his importance to Ravnica. And if it were a trick, Jace couldn’t imagine Ral coming up with such a ridiculous story to set it up.

There were risks to trusting Ral, just as there were the last time they had worked together. Yet the possibility that he was telling the truth meant not getting involved carried an even greater risk. Ravnica’s guilds had been kept in the dark about the nature of the planeswalkers for a very good reason.

“Alright,” said Jace. “I’ll humor you for now. Lead the way.”

————————

Tenuous Alliance 1W

Sorcery

Cast Tenuous Alliance only during your precombat main phase.

Choose target opponent. Until your next turn, creatures can't attack you, that player, or planeswalkers either player controls.

“Don't think this means we're friends.”

Author's Note

Some people have been wondering when exactly this takes place in the MtG timeline, and I think I should clarify here that this story takes place some unspecified time after Shadows Over Innistrad, but before Kaladesh.

Windfall

Twilight paced back and forth in the chamber, the sound of echoing hoofsteps remaining the only sign of life within the utterly silent chamber. The cell bars were ironclad, and show no signs of budging at any of Twilight’s efforts to break free. She had held onto some dim hope that her enhanced earth pony strength as an alicorn would be able to pry the bars open, but the only thing the effort had earned her was an exhausted set of forelegs.

How long had it been since she had arrived on Ravnica? How long had she been trapped in the cell? It was impossible to tell exactly, the only sign of time passing was the gradually waning sunlight from the window, already too small to make out anything beyond it. She was left completely alone, with no company but her own thoughts. With no distractions, there was no possible way left to avoid confronting the truth.

Twilight had been a fool. She’d acted on her first impulse, planeswalking away for no other reason than to prove that Princess Celestia had nothing to fear. Instead, she’d only stumbled head-first into inescapable danger. What sentence the Azorius would give to her for breaking the law was something she could only imagine, and every time she tried her mind only jumped to the worst conclusions. She could be imprisoned and starved to death, tortured, or even beheaded. The constant growling of her empty stomach made her suspect that they could already be trying to starve her.

Her legs began to ache from the constant pacing. Eventually, her exhaustion finally caught up with her, and she lay down on the floor, the weight of her eyelids steadily becoming greater as she drifted further and further from consciousness.

Before sleep could fully embrace her, Twilight’s ears perked up at the sound of approaching footsteps coming from the corridor. She steadily rose to her feet, at once both apprehensive and curious about the oncomers. She cautiously trotted closer to the door, leaving just enough space between it and herself to avoid being in arms reach of any human that came through the door.

From down the hallway, a trio of Lyev came into view, wielding elongated spears and escorting with them another pair of figures. The guests looked overall human, but their features were heavily suited to an aquatic life, with green-blue skin, multiple fins sticking out of their bodies, and gill slits across their exposed necks. They wore light armor made from a grey metal that Twilight couldn’t identify, leaving all but their arms, shins, and abdomens exposed, with webbed hands on their arms and webbed feet walking bare against the surface of the floor. Their exposed flat, muscular torsos had initially led Twilight to believe they were both male, until she noted that neither of them had the defining anatomy of a mammal on their chests. On a second examination, they almost appeared more closely related to fish than to humans.

One of the Lyev approached the cell door, a ring of keys held in his left hand. Quickly sorting through the keys, he placed one into the lock and turned it. Twilight’s breath caught as the door slowly pushed open, the friction of unoiled metal rubbing against itself reverberating through the chamber.

The Lyev soldier nodded, and the two fish-people entered the cell. Twilight instinctively backed away, but her efforts proved futile as one quickly circled around behind her, leaving the other standing in front of her. The one in front made a gesture with its hand, beckoning Twilight to follow. When she failed to respond, the one behind her gave her a soft kick in the rear, startling her into moving forward.

Walking between the two escorts, Twilight cautiously followed them out of the cell. As soon as she crossed the door, a sudden realization hit her.

She was free. Still trapped in a prison in the middle of who-knows-where, but no longer caged like a helpless animal. The rest of the building likely still had enchantments to nullify unauthorized spellcasting, but the innate strength and flight ability of an alicorn were not quite so easy to suppress.

Without a second thought, she rapidly swiveled around and sent a powerful, full-body buck straight into the crotch of the fishy humanoid in front of her. A shocked, high-pitched yelp carried through the hall, followed by the sounds of forceful shouting. By the time the noise reached her ears, Twilight had already taken to the air, bolting past her captors and never once looking back.

————————

Jace followed Ral across the Tenth District’s streets, down a busy thoroughfare that led away from the stores and service buildings that lined the street. With the help of a subtle illusion to mask the perceptions of passerby, the two went largely unnoticed by the crowds. Jace had quickly come to dislike being the most famous person on the plane, and found it far easier to conduct his affairs when his presence remained undetected unless needed. That, and he enjoyed hearing the many rumors about him being able to instantly appear anywhere on Ravnica. That was true in a sense, but not in the way anyone suspected.

Of course, Ral had been able to see past part the mystery he’d crafted around himself. “So, tell me about the teleportals.”

“I had a feeling you’d ask about that,” Ral replied. “You’ve always had a knack for sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“You’re stalking me and I’m the nosy one?”

“Since you have an ongoing habit of making life difficult for me, I think I have good reason to keep an eye on what you’re doing,” said Ral. “Besides, this isn’t even the first time I’ve tried to find your sanctum.”

“The Implicit Maze,” said Jace. “You’re still bitter about that.” It wasn’t phrased as a question. Jace didn’t need telepathy to know the answer already.

“I know when I’m beaten,” said Ral, curtly. “But don’t think I’m interested in letting you slip beneath my notice. Given your obsession with secrecy, there was only one way you could move across the plane so quickly while remaining hidden.”

“A teleportal network,” said Jace. “One with no record of its sale or construction. One that, officially speaking, doesn’t exist.”

“Exactly,” said Ral. “And that’s where the black market came in. There are very few vendors on Ravnica that would sell such conspicuous goods illegally. I made sure all of them obtained their supply from me.”

“Right. And you also put a tracking enchantment on the teleportals,” Jace added. “I suppose you think you’re clever for having outsmarted me.”

Ral paused, making certain that Jace could get a good look at his self-satisfied grin. “Very.”

Jace remained unperturbed. He met Ral’s gaze, his lips curving upwards into a thin smirk. “You’re forgetting something important, Ral. I can authorize my teleportal network whenever I want. You, on the other hand, broke at least a dozen commerce laws. And now you’re bragging about it to someone that regularly speaks to Isperia herself.”

Ral’s pride visibly shattered. “You wouldn’t.”

“No,” Jace replied. “But maybe next time you’ll think twice about whatever you’re trying to pull.”

There was a tense moment of silence as Ral seethed, digesting the conversation. “Damn you, Beleren,” he cursed. “Enough of this. We’re almost there.”

Their path eventually led them to one of the side roads along the larger street, away from the Tenth’s commercial and residential subdistricts. As the crowds thinned and the street narrowed, the buildings became increasingly austere, losing the spires and fanciful decorations in favor of plain, brutalist concrete architecture. Silver-clad Lyev and steel-clad Wojek increasingly composed the pedestrian traffic, and on the edges of his hearing Jace could make out the sounds of military drills being carried out. This subdistrict was where the Azorius and Boros held joint training exercises, their mutual presence there arranged by the original Guildpact to foster inter-guild cooperation. How successful it had been was still up for debate.

Finally, the two of them reached a very large rectangular building, even more imposing than the others, with only a single front entrance and tiny, barred windows. The building was surrounded by a massive concrete outer wall with barbed wire adorning the top, and several guard towers rising above the structure, leaving no part of the compound unwatched. Just outside of the outer gate were two Lyev guardsmen, each standing alert with a spear in their hands.

As he and Ral approached the outer gate, Jace dismissed his illusion and stepped forwards. The two guards immediately turned their attention to him.

“Let us through,” said Jace. “Official Guildpact business.”

The soldiers obeyed almost immediately, stepping to the side as Jace and Ral passed through the outer gates. The soldiers inside the compound showed much the same obedience to Jace’s authority, and they were able to enter the prison’s interior with little effort.

Inside there was a simple receptionist’s desk behind a barred window, just beside a fortified steel door that led into the main prison complex, with two guards standing on either side. Behind the desk was an aging woman in white robes, her greying hair tied neatly into a bun. She instantly snapped to attention the moment Jace approached the window.

“G-guildpact!” she said. “I mean, to what do I owe your presence here today?”

“To my understanding, there is an exotic animal being kept here, in this prison complex,” said Jace. “A bright purple pegasus with a horn on the center of its head. Do you know of any such creature?”

“Y-yes, Guildpact,” said the receptionist. “I believe a creature matching that description was imprisoned here this afternoon.”

“And where are you keeping it?” said Jace.

“I... hold on, let me see,” said the receptionist. She reached behind the desk and pulled out a very large notebook, scrolling through the pages rapidly. Finally, she stopped on a page, and pressed against the text with a finger. “Cell number 1010, East Wing. Will you require an escort, Guildpact?”

Jace shook his head. “That won’t be necessary,” he said. It was unlikely that anything in the prison would pose a danger to him, given the several layers of enchantments woven into the masonry that nullified any unauthorized spells. His magic, by contrast, was considered authorized by definition. It was one of the many perks of being the Living Guildpact.

The receptionist reached beneath the desk and flipped what Jace could only presume to be a switch, judging by the telltale click noise that sounded. There was a rumbling of metal scraping against metal hinges, and the guards beside the steel door stepped aside as it swung open.

Jace turned back and looked towards Ral. “Stay here,” he said. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

“And why should I do that?” Ral countered. “I’ve spent far more effort tracking down this creature than you have.”

“Just do what I say,” said Jace. He appended his statement with a telepathic message, projected directly into Ral’s mind. If you want a real answer, it’s because I don’t know what you’re planning on doing with this planeswalker. And given our prior conversation, I have little reason to believe you don’t have ulterior motives.

Jace turned towards the guards and gave them a nod. As he passed through the door, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up from static charge. Behind him, he could almost hear the sound of Ral’s blood boiling.

Making his way through the corridors would have been difficult, had Jace not taken care to memorize the layout of each major Azorius building. Out of all the guilds he worked with, they were perhaps the one he worked with the most closely, their labyrinthine codex of laws and statutes guiding most, if not all, of his official activities as the Guildpact. This particular prison was one that he had been to on several occasions before, when negotiating prisoner exchanges between guilds.

As he passed into the eastern wing, a series of shouts sounded out behind him, followed by a rush of hurried footsteps. He turned around to see an entire squadron of Lyev guards rushing down the corridor. As they noticed his presence, they abruptly came to a halt just before him.

“Guildpact!” said the squadron leader. “What are you— I mean, you must evacuate from these premises! One of our prisoners has escaped!”

“Interesting timing for an escape,” said Jace. It didn’t seem a likely coincidence that a prisoner would break containment the very moment he had come to free a captive planeswalker. “Would I be correct to assume this prisoner is a purple equine?”

“I... yes, Guildpact, that is correct,” said the guard. “Permission to present an inquiry?”

“Go ahead,” said Jace. It took an effort not to roll his eyes. He admired the methodical approach of the Azorius, but their unwillingness to take initiative without formal authorization was almost comically extreme.

“Is this prisoner related at all to your current visit?”

“It is,” said Jace. “And right now it’s of vital importance that I find this prisoner of yours. I want you to lead me to it.”

The guard leader fidgeted in place, as though he had thought to raise an objection, but such a thought was quickly stifled. “Yes, Guildpact,” he said. “Come along. You’ll come right behind us.”

The guards hurriedly maneuvered around Jace as they continued down the hall, and Jace turned to follow their path.

————————

The sounds of metal footsteps and unintelligible shouting filled Twilight’s ears more with each passing moment. The corridors were a twisty maze of passages, each indistinguishable from one another. Her heart beat like an earthquake, and eyes darted about the halls wildly, only catching brief glimpses at the startled looks she obtained from the compound’s prisoners. All the while, the rhythmic stomping of armored boots drew ever closer.

Seeing another intersection, she sharply turned right in the air, only to find that another squadron of Lyev had already shown up at the other end of the hall. The ceiling, she realized, was far too low for her to fly above them. Reacting on pure instinct, she turned around, hoping to bolt in the opposite direction, but by then it was too late. The other guards had caught up to her. Spears raised, they slowly began closing in on her.

An unbearable weight began to press down on Twilight’s wings. Fatigue overcame her body, and she felt herself lowering to the ground. It was over. There was nothing left to do but give up and leave herself at the mercy of her captors. She couldn’t even bring herself to cry, there was simply no feeling left within her to do so. She closed her eyes, grimly anticipating the guards to seize her, or even to simply end her then and there. It no longer mattered which.

“Out of the way! Guildpact’s orders!”

Twilight’s eyes suddenly burst open, and her body nearly jumped into the air. Something had not only spoken, it had spoken something that had registered in her mind as perfect Equestrian. And yet the guards soon showed that they understood it as well, as the ones that stood in front of her parted instantly. Twilight had briefly considered running past them then and there, but instead chose to stare transfixed at the lone figure that swiftly pushed past the security forces.

He was a human, presumably male, with pale skin, blue eyes, and ruffled black hair, dressed in a striking deep blue outfit rife with belts and buckles. A sea-blue cape was draped around his shoulders, with a hood that was pulled back, revealing a face lined with white markings that seemed to glow in the prison’s dim light. Twilight instinctively backed away as he approached, but instead of showing hostility, the man slowed his steps and regarded her with... curiosity? His expression remained cold and unreadable, and the way that he had spoke to the guards showed that he possessed unquestioned command over them, yet there was a subtle glint in his eyes that Twilight found oddly calming.

And then, Twilight felt the strangest thing that she’d felt in her life. A tingling sensation right behind her eyes, like something was tickling her optic nerve. The sensation moved backward, into the depths of her skull, and right into her brain. She shivered audibly, the unfamiliar experience leaving her entirely skeeved out.

Then, even more startlingly, the man spoke again. Except instead of speaking through words, the meaning was projected directly into her mind.

Apologies. I don’t often go probing another’s mind uninvited, but I wanted to make sure you were really a sapient being. I promise I didn’t look at any of your private thoughts.

Twilight was dumbstruck. “What!?”

From behind her, another set of footsteps came approaching. Twilight turned her head around to see the guards parting, allowing the two fish-people that had attempted to wrangle her from her cell to approach. One fish-person looked down at Twilight with a fierce glare, while the other stepped forward and met the eyes of the apparent telepath, shouting something in the Ravnican language.

“This creature is not an undiscovered species,” the telepath responded. “It isn’t even a new species at all. It was created when an Izzet experiment inadvertently exposed a wild pegasus to mutagenic energy. Under section one thousand three hundred sixty-seven, subsection twelve of the Ravnican Code, any accidental mutants created by Izzet experiments are property of the Izzet.”

Twilight’s head spun, struggling to keep up with the pace of the events unfolding before her, yet even through the confusion she knew the words that she heard were utterly ludicrous. She wanted to protest, but she could only barely wrap her mind around what was happening to begin with. Just then, another telepathic message wormed its way into her mind.

Don’t worry, it’s just a cover story. My name is Jace Beleren, and I’m here to rescue you.

“Rescue me?” Twilight looked up at Jace. There was a firmness in his eyes as he stared down the fish-people, yet the message that he had telepathically projected was somehow soft and reassuring in tone. Twilight wasn’t even sure how that was possible, given that it lacked any true voice, yet the mere thought of being rescued was enough to give her hope.

Finally, after a prolonged staredown, the fish-people relented, turning around with what Twilight could only assume to be a statement of exasperation. The guards parted once more as they allowed the two figures to leave, closing the gap in their formation before Twilight could think to follow.

“I’ll be taking this creature with me,” said Jace. “And I don’t believe I’ll be needing an escort, before you ask.” He looked down at Twilight and gestured with his hand to follow. “Come on, then. You want to get out of here, right?”

“What? Now, wait a second!” said Twilight. “I appreciate the help, but why should I trust you? How do I know you’re not just trying to take advantage of me?”

Because I’ve nothing to gain from harming another planeswalker in their most vulnerable moments. Besides, I can’t in good conscience leave you here. A mind like yours doesn’t deserve this.

“A-another?” Suddenly, all the gears started to fit together. Why Jace could communicate with both herself and native Ravnicans without incident, even before he had tried to read her mind. Why he was suddenly so concerned about her well-being, despite his apparent authority.

It suddenly dawned upon Twilight what the glint she’d seen in Jace’s eye was. It was sympathy. Any planeswalker could have just as easily ended up in a situation similar to hers, trapped at the mercy of an unfamiliar world. And now, for the first time, there was someone else in Ravnica who truly understood what she had gone through.

Twilight felt a dampness in her cheeks, and realized that she was on the verge of tears. Not out of sadness or anguish, but out of sheer release. Like a cold and shadowed fog had been lifted, and the warmth that flooded into her had flushed out the sludge of anxieties clogging her mind.

There’s no need to be shy. Do you have a name? What do you call yourself?

“Twilight Sparkle,” she said. A smile crept its way across her face as she paused to wipe her eye. “And... thank you.”

It’s no trouble at all, Twilight. Why don’t we continue our introductions outside? The guards are starting to get confused.

“Huh? What do you mean?” said Twilight. “Why would they...” Twilight paused, and took a glance at the surrounding guards, all of them staring at her, utterly perplexed. The whole time, she realized, they had likely heard her speech as unintelligible whinnying. “Oh. Right. You, uh, go ahead and lead the way.”

Jace waved his hand, and the Lyev guards moved aside to let him through. He gestured for Twilight to follow, and the two of them continued down the hallway together, following the path that would lead them both to the outside world.

————————

Rescue Mission 2WW

Sorcery

Return target planeswalker card from your graveyard to the battlefield.

Sometimes all you need is a friend to watch your back.

Author's Note

So we finally have our meeting in this chapter. This has been a long time coming, and is more or less the moment that I’ve had in mind when writing this fic from the beginning.

I’m going to say in advance that you likely shouldn’t expect some epic conflict coming out of this, the next few chapters will likely lean more heavily towards slice-of-life interactions (and FiMFiction won’t let me tag this fic as such because it thinks the category is mutually exclusive to “adventure” for some poorly-conceived reason :ajbemused: ), though there may still be an unexpected twist or so, as well as some possible setup for something else in the future... but I can’t rightly tell you too much about that, can I? :trollestia:

Homeward Paths

Twilight followed Jace down the prison corridors at a leisurely pace. It had become immediately apparent that Jace was voraciously inquisitive, as he had not ceased to ask questions the entire time they were present. Twilight wasn’t sure if she should be overjoyed at the chance to teach someone else, or be annoyed that she couldn’t get any questions of her own in edgewise. She had plenty of them, most notably how Jace had managed to earn the utmost obedience of everyone he’d come across. He seemed benevolent enough to trust, yet Twilight had no idea where his authority really came from.

In the back of her mind, Twilight also noted that the prisoners they had passed along the way had not taken notice of them despite their conversation being spoken in audible language, and that a subtle glow surrounded them both. Jace, she surmised, had cast a spell to render them both invisible and silent to outside observers. His authority must have also given him permission to cast spells where she wasn’t allowed to.

“So what plane are you from, anyway?” said Jace.

“Hmmm, that’s actually kind of tricky,” said Twilight. “The nation that I come from is called Equestria, and the name is sometimes used as synonymous with the plane itself. Most of the time we just call it ‘the world,’ or some other generic term.” She paused for a moment, contemplating some very old obscure history tomes that she’d remembered reading years ago. “Although, if I remember correctly, ancient scholars used to refer to the plane as Ungula. That name’s really archaic, though; almost no one you ask today will have heard of it, pony or otherwise.”

Jace gave an ever-so-slight smirk, barely enough to be noticeable. “Ungula, huh? So are all the intelligent races on your plane hoofed mammals?”

“Well, no, not all of them,” said Twilight. “Sure, there’s ponies, horses, zebras, yaks, donkeys, deer, buffalo, and goats, but there are a few others without hooves, too. Griffons and hippogriffs are still quadrupeds, but there are also bipedal races like minotaurs, aven, catfolk, and other beastfolk. Dragons can be bipedal or quadrupedal, depending on their age, subspecies, and the circumstances of their growth and development.”

“Interesting,” said Jace. “So what would that make you, then? I’ve seen plenty of pegasi and unicorns, but I don’t believe I’ve seen an equine with both wings and a horn.”

Twilight giggled. “Well, I suppose I can’t really blame you for that. I’m an alicorn, an extremely rare kind of pony with the combined traits of all three common types of ponies. Granted, those of us that do exist tend to be pretty famous in Equestria, but I’m guessing we’re even less common on other planes.”

“Alicorn?” said Jace. “Isn’t that the material that a unicorn’s horn is made of?”

Twilight beamed. “That’s correct! All ponies in Equestria have alicorn somewhere in their bodies. It’s effectively a magnet for ambient magic, allowing us to gather it to fuel our natural abilities. Unicorns have horns made of alicorn, which is connected to the brain via the cornic nerve. This allows them to use their horns to draw mana for conscious spellcasting. Pegasi have alicorn in their bone marrow, but it’s especially concentrated within their wing bones. This lets them unconsciously draw mana to enhance their flight ability, as well as walk on clouds and manipulate weather. Earth ponies have hooves made almost entirely out of alicorn, as well as large concentrations of alicorn in their muscles. They use this to unconsciously draw mana to enhance their strength, as well as form a connection to the earth that greatly increases the fertility of any land they tread on. Alicorn ponies are so named because we have very high concentrations of alicorn in every part of our bodies, allowing us to draw massive amounts of mana for any number of different purposes.”

Jace’s expression shifted subtly as Twilight continued her explanation. The insatiable thirst for knowledge remained gleaming within his eyes, but an almost imperceptible crease appeared in his brow, becoming only more noticeable as Twilight finished.

“So your bodies are like living mana batteries,” said Jace. “Your plane must have an overabundance of incredibly powerful mana for a species with such capabilities to evolve naturally. On most planes, few people ever learn how to gather mana at all. It usually takes a natural talent or years of exhaustive study to even begin.”

“Oh,” said Twilight. It was a strange thought: magic had been such an integral part of every pony’s life that the mere notion of drawing mana being a rarity sounded ridiculous on its face. “...I guess I can understand. I’ve only been to one other plane before this, and it barely had any mana beyond that needed to sustain its existence. There was so little that most people there thought magic was just a myth.”

Twilight paused for a moment, rethinking her statement. On further consideration, the statement that she had only been to one other plane may or may not have been true. She had been to one other universe parallel to hers, where she had met evil counterparts of the Royal Sisters and a good counterpart to King Sombra. As she recalled from Star Swirl’s notes, the mechanics of the other magic mirror were different. Far too complex for even her to understand, yet apparently based on manipulating time rather than traveling through different planes in space.

New questions began swirling in her mind, fueled by her expanding role in the wider multiverse. Was the other Equestria really a separate plane, or the same plane in a different timeline? And if it was a different timeline, would that explain why it was so much easier to disrupt the balance with the parallel Equestria than with Anthropia? If that mirror weren’t destroyed, would something catastrophic have happened to the entire time stream? She would have to look into it further, but that thought was quickly pushed away when Jace responded with another question.

“So I take it that means you’re new at planeswalking?” said Jace. “I suppose it’s a good thing you’ve found someone who can show you around. I’ve heard more than a few stories of other planeswalkers getting into trouble in their early travels.”

Twilight grinned nervously. “I... guess you could say that, yeah. Thanks again for the help, by the way.”

“It’s no problem at all,” said Jace. There was a pause in the stream of Jace’s questions, as the two approached a reinforced steel door at the end of the long corridor. With a wave of his hand, the glow that surrounded him and Twilight disappeared, and he opened the door to reveal an entrance room beyond.

Standing just outside the other end of the door were a pair of Lyev guards and, beyond them, a stubble-faced man with white streaks in his hair. He wore a striking blue-and-red outfit with an elaborate brass backpack, which connected via a piece of flexible tubing to a very prominent brass vambrace. The way his hair stood up made Twilight feel distinctly uneasy, and she could hear a faint crackling and buzzing sound that she would expect to hear from a spark gap.

The man snarled something in Ravnican at Jace, his face twisted into a visage of anger, before shooting Twilight a glare. The guards surrounding the steel door tightened their grips on their weapons and raised them in a clear threat display, and the stubbled man immediately backed down.

“That won’t be necessary,” Jace said to the guards. Twilight, this is Ral Zarek, another planeswalker who helped me find you. We’ve... not always been on good terms in the past, but I promise he won’t hurt you.

“Um... okay?” said Twilight. Jace seemed trustworthy enough, but Ral Zarek had a wild look in his eye that she wasn’t sure she wanted anything to do with.

“We’ll talk about this more outside,” said Jace. “Preferably where we can meet alone.”

Ral sighed, and begrudgingly nodded. Twilight followed the two men as they made their way outside, past the boundaries of the prison and into the streets beyond. Twilight couldn’t help but gulp inwardly at the sight of the massive fortified walls surrounding the prison, as well as the numerous buildings nearby that appeared to be military garrisons. Even with her attempted escape stunt, she realized there was virtually zero chance she could have ever made it to freedom on her own.

Twilight noticed that the three of them had once again been enveloped by the subtly shimmering magic that masked their presence in the prison. As they moved down the streets, the pedestrians seemed to subconsciously move around them, as though they were being parted by a force that they couldn’t notice. Eventually, after moving past several military garrisons, they came to yet another disused alley, which the three planeswalkers ducked into.

Satisfied that they were not drawing any attention, Jace gestured to Ral and Twilight to come in closer. Twilight stepped inwards, but was startled backwards when a burst of electricity surged up Ral’s backpack, coursing through his hair and vambrace.

“Gyah!” Twilight shrieked, before lowering her voice—just barely—to the level of a stage whisper. “Jace, what is he doing? We’re supposed to be inconspicuous!”

The corners of Ral’s lips split into a wry grin. “So it can talk after all. I was beginning to worry for a moment.”

“Huh?” Twilight blinked. “Wait, that was a translation spell? Why the haywould you need lightning for a translation spell?”

“Clearly you’ve never met an Izzet guildmage,” said Ral. “If it doesn’t involve lightning, it’s not worth doing.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Right, obviously. Anyway, I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself to you, my name is Twilight Sparkle. Yours is Ral Zarek, I’m assuming?”

Ral sneered. “So Beleren intruded into your mind to tell you about me? I shouldn’t be surprised that he hasn’t quite grasped the concept of personal space.”

“I already told you I didn’t look at your mind, Ral,” said Jace. “I simply projected a telepathic message. You of all people should understand the need to communicate silently.”

“And I already told you that I don’t care,” Ral spat. “One move like that again and you’ll learn what it feels like to have all the water in your body electrolyzed. And as for you,” he turned and glared at Twilight, “your brief presence here has caused an inordinate amount of trouble for me. I’ve spent many years and vast amounts of effort working to ensure that the guilds of Ravnica never learn of the existence of planeswalkers. Had I not been lucky enough to catch you flying over the city, your capture would have undone that in a single day. I don’t know exactly what Beleren said to free you, but if I had to fathom a guess, I would say that he claimed you to be Izzet property to justify my presence at an Azorius prison compound. If you make things difficult for me again, I may choose to keep you under my now rightful ownership.”

“You will be doing no such thing,” Jace interjected. “Twilight is an intelligent being, and a brilliant mind as well. She is to be treated with dignity and respect as much as any other person. Do I make myself clear?”

Ral Zarek seethed, teeth clenched into a grimace. “You had better keep her out of trouble, Beleren. For both of your sakes.” Without another word, he stormed out of the alley, disappearing into the street.

Twilight hadn’t even realized until Ral had left that her ears had folded flat against the back of her head. “That cover story... that’s not going to be a problem, is it?”

A smile crept its way across Jace’s lips. There was a subtle detachment to his emotions, yet Twilight could tell they were no less genuine. “That won’t be an issue. I can have the records altered later. For now, I think our top priority should be ensuring that you don’t find yourself in danger while you’re here. Ravnica can be difficult for the unprepared to survive.”

“I, uh... I think I can tell,” said Twilight. She looked up towards Jace, and felt a tide of emotions sweep in, splashes of memories coloring her mind with the sights and sounds of her friends back home. “I... I know we’ve only just met, and I have so many questions,” said Twilight. “But I honestly just want to go home now. I’m so tired of dealing with all of this, and my friends must be so unbearably worried. They must think I just disappeared off the face of Equestria.”

“That’s perfectly understandable,” said Jace. “Planeswalking can be overwhelming at first. The good thing is that you should be able to return home anytime you want, now that you’re no longer detained.”

“Yeah,” said Twilight. “I guess that is a good thing, isn’t it?” Her thoughts once again turned to Princess Celestia, of the overwhelming worry that was carved into her face the last they met, and the tearful words she had spoken. “I... I have to go back right away. I’m sorry Jace, I really do. I might return to Ravnica sometime when I’m better prepared, but I can’t stay here right now. I wish I could spend more time getting to know you better, it’s just... I don’t know.”

“Well, I enjoyed getting a chance to meet you,” said Jace. “If you ever find yourself in trouble here again, I’ll try to see if I can bail you out.”

Twilight smiled. “It was nice meeting you, too. And I’ll keep that in mind if I ever come back.” Closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath, she recalled the same magic that she channeled into the Planar Amulet, and let it envelop her body.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself in the midst of the very same interplanar space she had encountered when she learned of her planeswalker abilities. Once again she was surrounded on all sides by the intense chaotic energies, and the millions of enormous bubble-like objects that each represented one of the planes of existence.

Dread crept its way into Twilight’s mind as a realization began to dawn on her. She had no idea which one was her home. Already the intense interplanar energies were beginning to tingle at her skin, gradually yet assuredly eating away at her existence.

“Oh, no!” Twilight cried out. “I... I don’t know what to do! Where do I go? Where do I go?”

Slipping once again in the grip of panic, Twilight closed her eyes as her body began shaking uncontrollably. When she opened them again, she found herself back in Ravnica, standing exactly where she had been when she left.

“Huh? J-Jace? What happened?”

Jace regarded her curiously, though with a subtle frown. “I’m not sure. You planeswalked away for a moment, and then came back.”

Twilight exhaled, painfully aware of the deep pang of sorrow within her chest. “I... I don’t think I know how to get back home.”

“Well, that’s going to be a problem, isn’t it?” said Jace.

“Are you kidding me?” Twilight blurted out. “This isn’t just a problem! This is quite possibly the biggest problem that’s ever problemed! What if I never see my home again? What if I never see my friends again? They could think that I’ve died, or worse! What if something dangerous comes to Equestria and I’m not there to help? Will they even be able to handle it without me?” She could already feel herself beginning to hyperventilate, and wished Spike was there to hand her a paper bag to breathe into. The thought didn’t help matters, knowing that he wasn’t around, and her breathing intensified further.

Her vision was already beginning to fade when a blue light enveloped her body. It was a cold sensation, enough to send a chill down her spine, yet paradoxically there was also a genuine warmth to it. She could feel her breathing steady itself, and the tension that wound itself through her body like a coil beginning to unravel.

When her body finally relaxed, she looked up at Jace, at once both curious and slightly apprehensive. “What did you do just now?”

“Something to take the edge off,” said Jace. “I’m sorry for manipulating your emotions like that, but I wasn’t sure what else to do to stop you from passing out.”

Twilight exhaled, a smile breaking out across her muzzle. Had she not felt so thoroughly exhausted by the experience, she would have laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I probably needed that anyway.” She looked up again at Jace. Despite her anxiety having been calmed, there was still a genuine uncertainty within her that she couldn’t ignore. “So, uh, what do I do now?”

“If you’re asking me to show you how to get home, I’m afraid I can’t do that,” said Jace. “Even if I knew where your plane was, planeswalking is a highly individualized form of magic. Every planeswalker spark is unique, and no two planeswalkers move through the multiverse in exactly the same way.”

“So you’re saying I’ll have to figure out how to get home myself,” said Twilight. “Well, that’s just great, isn’t it? I don’t even know the first thing about planeswalking, and there’s no book that could possibly teach me!”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Jace reassured. “Planeswalking is as natural to you as walking on two legs... or four, I suppose. In the meantime, why don’t you come stay with me? I’m sure I can accommodate you while you’re here.”

“Really?” said Twilight. “You would do that?”

“Well, I can’t just leave you here by yourself, can I?” Jace replied. “I believe I have some extra room in my apartments. You’re free to use them as long as you need.”

Had it not been for their difference in height, Twilight would have hugged Jace then and there. “I... I can’t thank you enough for this, Jace.”

“Again, don’t mention it,” said Jace. He paused, and rubbed his chin. “Although, in the future, you might need a disguise if you’re going to be staying here.”

“Oh! Actually, I’ve already got that taken care of,” said Twilight. With a wobble, she stood herself up onto her hind legs, and her horn lit up with a light purple glow. She felt the familiar embrace of her illusion taking hold, creating a powerful disguise. The disorientation from the conflicting perceptions of her real and false bodies returned in full force, giving Twilight a dizzying headache that she fought to ignore.

Jace observed the display with fascination. “You’re quite skilled in illusions already, I take it?”

“Yup!” said Twilight. “It’s been very useful so far. Hold on, there’s something else I need to take care of.” Another glow came from her horn, though through the illusion it appeared as though a soft light was coming from her entire body. “Forgot to add the translation spell. I’m not sure what magic you’re using to understand me, but I think it’d be best to make sure I’m not speaking another language when others are around.”

“A wise choice,” said Jace. He squinted, and looked closer at Twilight’s illusory body. “Although I must say, that disguise doesn’t look very comfortable.”

Twilight winced at the accusation. “...You can tell, huh?”

“Illusion magic happens to be one of my specialties,” said Jace. “Here, let me help you with that.” A sky-blue glow surrounded his hand as he waved it at Twilight.

All at once, Twilight could feel her perceptions being twisted, wrenched, and snapped into place, making her head spin and her stomach lurch. When the sensation passed, everything felt... different. There was no longer any feeling of conflicting sensory inputs from her real body and her illusory disguise. She wasn’t even aware of her equine body at all, every part of her felt human from her head to her toes. She looked down at her human arms, lifted her hand toward her face, flexed her fingers tentatively. It was exactly the same thing that she saw and felt from the first time she had truly become human.

“This... this is an illusion? But it feels so real! How is it possible?”

Jace smirked, and tapped a finger to his temple. “You don’t need to change your body if you change your perceptions of it. Now, why don’t I take you back to my place? I think I’ve spent enough time away as it is.”

“I think I’d like that,” said Twilight. “And thank you.”

————————

There were so many questions that Jace still wanted to ask Twilight, and so many things about her home plane that he still wanted to learn. Yet even as they quickly and quietly made their way through the streets of Ravnica, disguised by a subtle perception barrier that made others pay less attention to them, the fatigue in Twilight’s eyes was clear. She had been through a lot, and more than anything needed rest.

That of course, didn’t stop Twilight from asking a few questions of her own. “So, uh... back when you rescued me. You said something about ‘Guildpact’s order’s.’ What does that mean? I thought the Guildpact was destroyed?”

“Glad to hear you’ve done your research on this plane,” said Jace. “To answer your question, the Guildpact was destroyed decades ago, but not without a contingency plan. It’s a long story, but I became the living embodiment of the new Guildpact recently.”

Twilight’s eyes lit up at the response. “Oooh, so that explains why everyone listens to you! I’m glad to hear there’s at least one powerful person on this plane that’s looking out for me.” Twilight ended her sentence with a very loud yawn.

“Tired?” said Jace.

“Yeah,” said Twilight. “It’s been a long and stressful day, as you can probably guess.”

“It won’t be long before we’re there. I’ll be happy to answer any other questions you have once you’re rested.”

The two had soon found their way to yet another of Ravnica’s alleys, this one containing one of the many entrances to his sanctum. The teleportal network connecting his home to the various districts of Ravnica was programmed on a rotating schedule, and at the time they arrived the entrance in this particular alley was still active. They had arrived not a moment too soon, as the sun had already begun to dip its way toward the edge of the Western horizon.

On one of the walls in the alley was a small door, colored so that it blended in almost flawlessly into the side of the building. He smoothly grabbed the handle and opened it, leading Twilight through the teleportal and into his home.

Twilight’s eyes went wide as she took in the sanctum. It was a modestly-sized library by any standards, littered with charts, diagrams, half-finished projects, and illusory models of various objects Jace had hoped to study. The sanctum had become even more of a mess since becoming a common room for the Gatewatch, with the belongings of other planeswalkers left haphazardly strewn about. Chandra had left her gauntlet on top of the central table, and out of the corner of his eye he could make out a large leafy twig on the floor by the sofa. Thankfully, the model skeleton in the far corner didn’t seem to have moved at all.

After taking a moment to look around, Twilight let out a loud yawn, and dismissed her illusory human form. “This... this is a nice place you have,” she said blearily.

“There’s an empty guest room you can use,” said Jace, pointing to the stairs to the right. “Just head up and take the third door to...”

Jace’s words trailed off as he realized that Twilight hadn’t heard them at all. With a sluggish flapping of her wings, she had already taken to the air and quite literally crash-landed onto the couch. Almost immediately, an audible snoring came from her now-unconscious body.

“...Or you could just sleep on the couch,” said Jace, with just a hint of exasperation. He would have quite a bit of explaining to do when Lavinia returned.

————————

It’s already night by the time I finally figure out which of these alleys has the door I need to get back home. Ugh, stupid Jace and his portal thingys. It’s where we live, for crying out loud, why the hell can’t he make finding it easy?

I feel the contents of my stomach trying to jump out of my mouth as I stagger forward and grasp the doorknob. Gnib’s a damned good bartender, but the stuff he serves is way potent. I keep fumbling around, trying to get a solid grip on the dumb thing, when the door suddenly swings open and I fall flat on my face.

A hand reaches out and grabs mine, pulling me back to my feet. I look to see who it is and see two faces staring at me. Three? No, definitely two.

“Oh, heya Jace. You...” A slight hiccup interrupts my words. “...You practicing those illusions of yours again? Which one of you’s the real one?”

“Chandra, you’re drunk.”

“Y-yeah? So what if I am?” I shoot back. “You... you wanna make something of it? It’ll be fun! Just like old times!”

Something about the glare he’s giving me right now tells me the answer is a solid ‘no.’ “At least tell me you didn’t get yourself in trouble with the Lyev again.”

The Lyev? Bah, screw them. How did that song dissing the Lyev go again? It was that weird kind of Ravnican song without a real melody. “H-hey, I technically didn’t break the law this time,” I say.

Jace frowns and raises an eyebrow. Y’know, his usual ‘you’re saying something dumb but I’m too polite to tell you it’s dumb’ face. “Technically?”

I give Jace what may well be the biggest shit-eating grin I’ve had in my entire life. “Loopholes are fun. You should try them.”

I don’t bother sticking around long enough to hear whatever retort he has. Instead I make my way through the common room, hoping to find a couch to crash on. Right now, in the state I’m in, stairs are out of the question.

An idle thought crosses my mind, one that I definitely wouldn’t be having if I weren’t completely smashed. You know what would be great? If I saw Nissa, and gave her a big, sloppy kiss. Or Gideon, I’m not too picky. Hell, maybe even Liliana, provided she’s brushed her teeth. Her breath always smells like grave dirt for some reason.

...Damn, why is every planeswalker except Jace so hot?

As I make my way over to the sofa, I see something that makes me do a double-take. Sitting right on top of it is Nissa, which is kind of unusual, now that I stop to think about it. She usually doesn’t spend a whole lot of time outside of the garden or her room.

No, what’s really unusual is the animal that’s lying asleep on the couch next to her, as she gently scratches it behind the ears. It’s some... thing that’s roughly the size of a large dog. Not a huge large dog, but large enough to make you think ‘huh, that’s a pretty big dog.’

That... thing, though, it isn’t anything like a dog at all, apart from size. It looks kind of like a horse, with the hooves and all, and it has wings like a pegasus and a horn like a unicorn. But that thing can’t be a horse, or a pegasus, or whatever. It’s too... cute.

Like, I’m not exaggerating when I say it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen in my life, just looking at it makes me want to go over there and pinch its cheeks. It’s got big, round eyes, a rounded face, and its whole body is weirdly... diminutive? Is that the right word? I hope I don’t sound like some kind of egghead saying that. Oh, and its entire body is also bright purple, which is a thing. The colors in its mane look particularly familiar, but I can’t place why.

The more I look at the creature, though, the more something about it feels... off. Its body is smooth, round, and completely perfect, free of the blemishes, details, and little flaws that you would see on any other living thing. It looks like a drawing come to life. It doesn’t even look real.

As I stand there, gawking, Nissa notices me for the first time. There’s a hint of concern in her eyes, though admittedly it’s hard to tell given how weirdly glowy they are all the time. “Oh, hello, Chandra. I didn’t see you there. Is everything okay?” She tilts her head slightly, making it clear that she really is worried about me. “You haven’t intoxicated yourself again, have you?”

“...Yeah,” I bring myself to reply. “I think maybe I’m going to start cutting back on that, though.”

————————

Double Back

Phenomenon

When you encounter Double Back, put the bottom card of your planar deck on top of your planar deck. (Then planeswalk away from this phenomenon.)

Author's Note

This chapter was tricky, as there were a few other scenes here that I had to omit for pacing purposes. I’m almost certainly going to revisit them later, though.

Once again, I’d like to offer credit to FanOfMostEverything for coming up with ‘Ungula’ as the name of the plane Equestria exists on. Also thanks to him for providing the general idea for the card for this chapter, which is a Phenomenon from the Planechase format. ~~One of these days I may just come up with an idea that isn’t shamelessly stolen!~~

Meet the Gatewatch

That night, Twilight had slept dreamlessly, without so much as a single glimpse into her own unconscious mind. It was as if the entire world had melted away, leaving behind nothing but perfect silence. Had she any awareness at all, she would have found the sensation oddly relaxing, a much-needed reprieve from the overwhelming experiences of the previous day.

Slowly but surely, she was pulled back into the realm of consciousness by an odd tingling sensation just behind her ears. It started out small at first, barely enough to register in her hazy perceptions, but quickly grew into a powerful spine-tingling sensation that was distinctly pleasant. She wasn’t even aware that she was awake until she found herself speaking out loud.

“Mmmmm... Oh, that feels nice...”

The sound of her own voice caused Twilight to snap to attention, her head jolting straight upward. She was greeted with the sight of the same common room that she had seen the previous evening, though sunlight was now clearly filtering through the windows. At the very least, she could tell she had gotten a good night’s sleep.

More alarmingly, however, was the fact that she wasn’t alone on the couch. In the corner of her eyes she could see a figure sitting next to her. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that this person was the one responsible for the scratching sensation that continued to linger on top of her head. The pleasurable feeling traveling down her spine clashed with the instinctive fear that swelled within her chest, and the overall effect was dizzying.

Attempting to reorient her thoughts, Twilight turned her head back and upwards, towards the guest in her sleeping space. A hand reflexively pulled itself back, and Twilight could see who it was for the first time. Superficially, she appeared human, thin and dainty and pale, but her ears were longer and pointier, and her eyes were a deep green devoid of any pupils or sclera.

An elf, Twilight realized. She’d read about them in fantasy novels on Anthropia, ageless beings with a deep connection to nature and an otherworldly aura. The woman before her certainly fit the appearance, as she appeared to be deep within a trance, her eyes unblinking as she stared forward blankly. There was something else that Twilight couldn’t quite describe, a general feeling of calm acceptance that permeated her the moment she looked into the elf’s eyes. In her, Twilight could see the world as it truly was. It was something Twilight could never see normally, not when filtered through her own perspectives and desires. In hindsight, Twilight realized that the other pointy-eared humanoids she’d seen on Ravnica were elves as well, but she never would have truly understood what they were without seeing one up close.

The elf suddenly blinked, and took notice of Twilight’s presence. “Oh! Hello, there. I didn’t see that you were awake.”

Twilight’s curiosity was sparked by the perfectly intelligible words. She quickly focused her attention inwards, on her own magic, and found that the translation spell she’d applied yesterday was still active. By her own estimate, it still had enough strength left to last her for the next two days. Being an alicorn had extended its duration considerably beyond what the spell would last for other ponies.

Twilight mustered a smile, but it was less an expression of happiness as it was of apprehension, as was likely the case for her evolutionary ancestors millions of years ago. “Um, hi?”

The elf immediately seemed to recognize the fear Twilight felt, almost faster than Twilight recognized it herself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. My name is Nissa Revane. Jace told me about you last night.”

Twilight perked up almost immediately. “Oh! So you’re one of his friends? It’s nice to meet you, I’m Twilight Sparkle.”

“Friend?” A small crease appeared on Nissa’s brow, almost too small to notice, only to vanish just as quickly. “I guess we are friends, yes.”

It was subtle, and harder to see with the perpetual glow in her eyes, but Twilight could recognize Nissa’s uncertainty. She had felt the same way, once. “I take it you haven’t had many friends before?”

“No,” Nissa replied, softly. “It’s an unusual feeling, having others to share my experiences with. I’d always managed to survive with only the world itself to lean on. But things are different now. I’m still not sure what to make of it.”

Twilight beamed and stood to her hooves, forgetting that she was currently atop a piece of furniture. “Well, you’re in luck! Back in my home, I just so happen to be the Princess of Friendship!”

Nissa, after being briefly startled by Twilight’s sudden standing motion, regarded her curiously. “Princess? Jace never told me you were royalty.”

Twilight blinked. “Oh. I, uh... might have forgotten to mention that one detail. But yes, I am the Princess of Friendship.” Already, she was beginning to outline a lesson plan in her mind. Her muzzle split open into a grin at the thought. “Oh, this is so exciting! There are so many things that I can teach you about friendship! It’ll be just like having another student!”

“Teach me?” said Nissa. “I don’t—”

“A-hem.”

A very displeased voice cleared its throat. Twilight turned her head, and her body involuntarily seized in terror. Before her eyes she saw a very stern-looking woman, dressed in Lyev armor and glaring at her fiercely.

“If you don’t mind, I would prefer that you keep your dirty hooves off the sofa.”

————————

After a less-than-ideal introduction, Twilight had learned that the woman was named Lavinia, and was Jace’s personal deputy as the Guildpact. It had taken multiple reassurances from Nissa that Lavinia meant no harm before Twilight could stop shaking.

Thankfully, Lavinia seemed sympathetic after Twilight had explained her prior experience with the Lyev. Even more thankfully, she didn’t seem to have the same reaction after seeing Lavinia a second time: the possibility that she’d developed Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder was not a pleasant thought to contend with.

Jace had soon met up with Twilight again, clutching tightly to a cup of hot coffee. He invited her over to breakfast, leading her over to a table by the other end of the common room.

“So,” said Jace, “a princess?”

“Er, yeah,” Twilight replied. “Sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

“It’s alright,” said Jace. “And you’ve met Nissa already. She and I are part of the Gatewatch, a group of planeswalkers sworn to protect the multiverse. Why don’t you come and meet the rest of us?”

Twilight mulled over Jace’s statement. That would explain why he apparently had extra room to house her. “I’d love to,” she replied. “A group of friends protecting the multiverse together sounds pretty exciting.”

The common room was small enough that they didn’t have time to continue the conversation before reaching the central table. Lavinia was curiously absent, though Nissa sat on a chair by the side, eating a very large grapefruit. On the far end was another human, a large man (and boy, was he large) with a deep tan and long, greasy brown hair not unlike a stallion’s mane. His entire body was clad in plate mail polished so thoroughly that it made every soldier’s uniform on Ravnica looked rusted by comparison. Even as he sat down and ate a bowl of oatmeal, his figure stood tall, looking much like... like...

...like a knight in shining armor. As though the multiverse wouldn’t let Twilight forget what she left behind.

As Twilight, approached, the knight looked up and waved cheerfully. “Good morning! You must be Twilight Sparkle.” His friendly demeanor quickly changed to one of concern. “Are you alright? You’re looking pretty glum.”

“Huh?” the sudden motion of Twilight’s ears alerted her to the fact that they had previously been pressed against her head. “Oh, of course. Nothing to worry about, just... thinking about a few things, that’s all. And you would be?”

“Gideon Jura. It’s an honor to meet you at last; I’m always glad to have another planeswalker by our side. Although I must admit, I don’t think I’ve ever imagined meeting a planeswalker quite like yourself!” Gideon let out deep belly-laugh, and Twilight couldn’t help but smile. His enthusiasm was infectious, to say the least.

“Hey! Keep it down!” A voice called from up the stairs to the right. Young and female, by the sound of it, though it had a slight rasp to it that reminded Twilight of Rainbow Dash. “Some of us are still trying to sleep!”

The voice was followed by footsteps, and a very familiar woman came descending down the staircase, the very same one Twilight had seen in the tavern just one day prior. Her striking red hair was wild and unkempt, heavy bags lay beneath her eyes, and she was wearing nothing but a loose-fitting red pajama shirt and a pair of green and white... what did the human Rarity call them again? Panties? Humans were weird with clothing.

Nissa blushed furiously at the sight. Jace and Gideon averted their eyes, though Twilight noticed that Gideon seemed much more visibly flustered of the two.

“Dear gods, Chandra!” said Gideon. “Would it kill you to be decent?”

“Feh. Who do you think you are, my dad?” said Chandra. “Actually, don’t answer that.” She clutched her forehead, wincing in pain. “Jace, help me deal with this hangover, would you?”

Jace continued to look away, answering only after a brief pause. “...I already told you, hangovers are a physiological condition, not a mental one. I can’t cure them for you.”

“Don’t see why not. Brains are just another squishy body part.” As her head turned over to Twilight, she nearly jumped back in shock. “Whoa! You’re real!? I mean... I’m not the only one seeing this, am I?”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course I’m real. My name is Twilight Sparkle, and I saw you yesterday at that tavern. I don’t think I would forget you drinking a shot that was on fire.”

“Sounds like something a figment of my imagination would say,” Chandra muttered. She yawned and inelegantly scratched her backside, leaving an awkward lull in the conversation. After several seconds of silence, Twilight could practically hear something click within Chandra’s mind. “Wait, that purple-haired girl at the bar was you?”

“Yup!” said Twilight. “Just a simple illusion I made for planeswalking. I can’t exactly go out looking like this, obviously.”

Chandra blinked. “An illusionist and a planeswalker. Great. Like it’s not enough that I have to put up with Jace all the time.”

Jace raised an eyebrow. “You’re awfully bold, speaking like that about the one providing you with rent-free housing.”

Chandra gave Jace a playful grin. “I’m just messing with you, Jaceface. Anyway, I’m going back to bed. Wake me if there’s another threat to the multiverse, yadda yadda yadda.” With a limp-wristed wave of her hand, Chandra quietly made her way back up the stairs.

————————

After a short breakfast of oatmeal, Twilight had spent most of the rest of the day browsing through Jace’s books. His library was by no means as extensive as many of the libraries Twilight had seen in her lifetime, but it was still impressively large for a private collection. With Jace having left on official Guildpact business with Lavinia, Gideon having left for reasons unspecified, and both Nissa and Chandra having retired to their rooms, she was left alone to read as much as she cared to. Making sure to note their locations on each of the bookshelves to put them back later, Twilight carried a stack of books over to a reading chair, and cast a simple light spell to read with.

There was a plethora of information about the history of Ravnica available, though the truly fascinating tomes were ones written on general magic theory. Twilight had spent countless days of her life in Equestria studying the arcane, coming to an understanding that precious few could claim to surpass. Since she was a young filly, almost everything new she had learned about magic was merely an extrapolation of things she already understood, like a new layer of bricks added on top of a solid foundation.

Almost never could she claim to have found information that radically altered her perspective on magic itself. Yet here she was, reading what was by all accounts an ordinary book, and all of a sudden it felt like everything she knew had been completely transformed.

Five colors. White, blue, black, red, and green. Five colors that defined and embodied all forms of magic, each representing both different kinds of mana and different aspects of reality. Everyone who used any form of magic called upon these colors, with their desires and mindsets defining which colors they used, and in turn, what their magic could do.

It all seemed so obvious in hindsight. So why didn’t Twilight ever hear about this before? How could all of the greatest scholars in Equestria miss something so fundamental to the very nature of magic itself?

But most importantly, what colors of magic had she been using this whole time? It was fairly simple to grasp what each color desired. White desired order. Blue desired perfection. Black desired power. Red desired freedom. Green desired acceptance. These were vast simplifications, but even the nuances and details of each color’s defining ideas were easy enough to grasp. But what did Twilight desire? What was it that defined her?

Of course, “friendship” was the most obvious choice, but even that seemed... unsatisfying. There was more to her than that. Twilight closed her eyes, shutting out all of her perceptions and turning her mind inward. If she wanted to find the answer, she would have to look within herself.

Ever since she was a young filly, Twilight wanted to learn. She wanted to know all there was to know about the world, and about the magic that defined it. More importantly, she wanted to excel at knowing it. She wanted to be the best scholar she could possibly be, constantly striving to improve her grasp on the magic she devoted her life to studying. She wanted perfection.

For just as long as she wanted to learn, however, Twilight had wanted things to make sense. She wanted her world to be organized neatly and sensibly, with everything put in its proper place. She wanted to ensure that there was nothing that couldn’t be prepared for, nothing that fell outside her meticulously detailed plan for her own life. She wanted order.

Then, when she had moved to Ponyville, she discovered something else. A desire that she had held all along, one that she wasn’t even aware that she had. She wanted to be perfect, and to organize her life as fastidiously as she could, but she soon found that there were some things worth learning that couldn’t be studied. Some things worth experiencing that couldn’t be planned for. Friendship wasn’t always something you could write a checklist about, or read about in a book, and Celestia knows she tried. More often it was something spontaneous, visceral, something that you could only truly experience by living it. And Twilight wanted to experience friendship as much as she could, without anything restricting it or holding it back. She wanted freedom.

But even that didn’t seem right. Individually, these desires made sense, but when taken all together they didn’t quite fit into something that described her. At least, not when taken as merely the sum of their parts. No, these desires, taken together, were more than that.

Twilight didn’t just want to improve herself, she wanted her self-improvement to inspire others, to bring them together, and to grant them the means to live life as fully as they could. She didn’t just want order, she wanted an order where everyone could freely pursue their own happiness, where everyone could strive to better both themselves and others. She didn’t just want freedom, she wanted a freedom where all were treated fairly and justly, and where every day society was pushed beyond the prejudices and flaws that it held yesterday.

Not just perfection, but ideals. Not just order, but harmony. Not just freedom, but passion.

Then, suddenly, it all fit into place. A vision appeared in her mind, unbidden, and she could see the colors swirling within her, the mana that defined not just what she could do, but who she was. Blue, Red, and White. The colors that stood for everything she believed in, and everything she had ever valued or cherished.

Another vision followed shortly after, not of herself, but of the very nature of the multiverse. Just like the first time she remembered jumping into the space between planes, she could see bubbles all around her, each representing its own reality, and each swirling with the same five colors that defined everything. Yet this time, she could see something else. She could see lines of colors connecting each plane to one another, forming paths that carried not only mana, but the very essence of existence itself.

When Twilight opened her eyes again, she was certain that a spark had appeared in them, even though she could not see it herself. At last, she finally understood the means by which she could travel between planes. No longer was she cursed to make blind jumps through the multiverse in the hope of finding one way home.

The epiphany quick lost its appeal when she realized that, despite her newfound understanding, she still had no idea where her home plane was. Even if she could now travel the multiverse unhindered, she still couldn’t navigate it.

Twilight’s ears folded against the back of her head. It was hopeless. She’d never return home at this rate. There was nothing she could do. Setting her book down, Twilight lowered her head and sniffled, a single tear dripping from her eye.

“Hey, you alright?” Twilight looked up, and saw Chandra approaching her. She was now fully-dressed, wearing the same armor and goggles she had worn in the tavern, though now she additionally wore a heavy gauntlet on her right arm, with a large tube connecting to her armor’s right shoulder. She came over and sat down on the armrest of the reading chair, resting her left hand on Twilight’s withers.

“Yeah,” said Twilight. “It’s just... I don’t know what to do. Jace was kind enough to let me stay here, but it’s not like it’s the home I know. I’ve left so many friends behind, and I have no idea where my plane even is, or how to get there from Ravnica.”

“Ouch, that sucks,” said Chandra. “I can kind of relate to that, honestly. I’m not even sure I remember how to get back to my home plane.”

Twilight looked up and met Chandra’s eyes, deep and full of sympathy. “You don’t?”

“Nah,” said Chandra. “It’s been years, and everyone I care about there is definitely dead by now anyway. Damned Consulate’s killed them.” Her face turned dark as she finished speaking, and her arm tensed as her hand gripped at Twilight’s hair.

“Ow! Hey!”

“Oops, sorry,” said Chandra, pulling her hand away. “Didn’t mean to do that. I get a bit angry thinking about it, that’s all. Just be glad I didn’t get, like, angry angry, ‘cause that’s when things start blowing up.”

Twilight could feel something forming in the pit of her stomach as she digested Chandra’s words. “Losing all your friends and family... that must be so awful. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“Look, don’t worry about it,” said Chandra. She spoke quickly and insistently, as if trying to change the subject. “I’m just saying, I get feeling homesick.” Her eyes drifted to the collection of reading materials that was sitting on the small table next to Twilight’s chair. “Jeez, those are a lot of books. Are you some kind of huge dork or something?”

Twilight blushed. “I, uh... I’ve heard that a few times, yes.”

A massive grin broke out on Chandra’s face. “I knew it! The moment you said something about an illusion, I knew you had to be. Never met an illusionist that wasn’t a damned nerd.”

Twilight glared at Chandra. That was the second time she’d uttered the word ‘damn’ in a span of less than thirty seconds. “There’s really no need for vulgarity, you know.”

“What, ‘damn?’” said Chandra. “Puh-leez. That’s freaking tame as far as I’m concerned. I can think of at least seven other words that are orders of magnitude worse than that.”

Twilight’s mouth hung agape in astonishment. “Chandra!”

Chandra laughed. “Better get used to it, Sparky. I’m not one to watch my language. There’s something else I’ve been wondering about, by the way.”

“What?” said Twilight.

“That human disguise you used at Gnib’s place,” she said. “It looked really young. Like, barely old enough to even be drinking. Just how old are you, anyway?”

“You know, normally it’s not polite to ask a mare her age,” Twilight pointed out.

“Duh,” said Chandra. “But come on, do you really think at this point that I care about being polite?”

Twilight raised a hoof, as if to object, only to lower it back down. “Alright, point taken,” she said.

“You didn’t answer the question, though,” said Chandra.

Twilight rolled her eyes, something she was fairly certain she would be doing a lot around Chandra. “I don’t even know if I can really answer it, to be honest. For one, I’ve no reason to believe that a year on Ravnica is the same as a year in Equestria. Everything I’ve read suggests that the solar cycle here works in a vastly different way than it does on my world, especially considering this world is apparently heliocentric. Plus I’m pretty sure that ponies age differently than humans, too. From what I’ve been able to gather, we reach full maturity faster than humans, but have longer lifespans overall. So while I’m considered an adult as a pony, as a human I’d still be considered adolescent.”

Chandra blinked. “Huh? You’re still talking? Sorry, I kinda lost interest.”

Twilight brought a hoof to her forehead. “Then why did you even ask me to begin with?”

Chandra threw her hands up. “Hey, I was just making conversation! I didn’t expect you to start geeking out on me!”

Despite her exasperation, Twilight couldn’t help but giggle. She really did remind her of Rainbow Dash. “Well, I guess you know better now, don’t you?”

“Sure do,” said Chandra. “Oh! I’d almost forgotten. Gids wants you and I to come out and meet him in the courtyard. Something about training you.”

“Training?” said Twilight.

“Yup, training,” Chandra replied. “Can’t have you walking the planes if you don’t know how to deal with trouble, right? You in?”

It didn’t take Twilight long to come up with an answer. In just one day she’d run into more trouble than she could handle on a foreign plane, and she wasn’t keen on repeating the experience anytime soon. “Yeah, I’m in.”

————————

Princess Celestia had been dreading this moment. She had been dreading a lot of moments that had happened recently, but this one was easily the moment she dreaded most. The feeling clutched at her chest and clawed at her heart, so much so that it felt like it would tear her apart from within.

Losing Twilight was bad enough. Having to explain to all of Twilight’s friends what had happened was worse.

She stood within the throne room of Twilight’s castle, just before the crystal table and its seven thrones. In front of her, gathered by the door, were the five remaining Bearers of Harmony that had been with Twilight from the beginning, joined by Spike and Starlight Glimmer. Celestia inhaled silently, trying to clear the fog that was clouding her mind, but nothing could make the sorrow disappear fully.

“My little ponies,” she addressed, “I am glad to see you all before me today. I understand that most of you do not have the time to visit Canterlot on short notice, so I have re-adjusted my schedules to ensure that I could meet you here.”

“What’s wrong, Princess?” Spike looked up at her with pleading, sorrowful eyes. It had hurt Celestia deeply to see him in such distress; Spike was only a child, and she had always seen him as family. “Is it about Twilight? Do you know what happened to her?”

Celestia let out the breath she was holding, trying desperately to maintain the cool air that she held for millennia. “Yes. I do. Twilight is no longer on this plane of existence.”

————————

Just outside the crystal castle, a lone pegasus flew by a window, observing the scene that was playing out in the throne room. She had caught a stray glimpse of Princess Celestia on her usual route, and curiosity soon overtook her, prying her away from her duty. She knew it was rude to spy on others, but the way she was, she couldn’t help but do it sometimes regardless.

Besides, from the fact that all of Twilight’s closest friends were gathered there as well, she had figured that it must be a gravely important matter. The shocked, horrified, and sorrowful looks that crossed their faces soon confirmed this; whatever was going on was something that could profoundly impact Equestria as a whole.

But what she saw was less important than what she heard. As comprehension dawned on her, she struggled to keep her jaw from hanging open.

“Princess Twilight’s a planeswalker?” said Ditzy Doo.

————————

Eavesdrop1U

Instant

Look at target player’s hand, then look at the top card of his or her library.

Draw a card.

Eyes in all directions see things in all places.

Author's Note

Gatewatch! Meet the Gatewatch! They’re a multiversal family!

Yup, here’s the meeting you all have no doubt been waiting for! Twilight’s very good at making friends no matter what universe she’s in, it looks like.

Also, Ditzy Doo. I wonder what she’s doing here? Probably nothing. Best not to make assumptions. ~~And I am absolutely~~ not ~~ripping anyone off!~~

Clockspinning

It hadn’t taken long for Ditzy Doo to find the laboratory. Sure, she had an absolutely appalling sense of direction at times, certainly not helped by the fact that she could barely fly above an altitude of 10 feet without swerving wildly out of control, but the location was so deeply embedded into her mind by this point that it was impossible for her to miss. Most of the time, anyway.

With a loud whump and the sound of her face skidding across the dirt, she landed just outside of the building. Some would say “landed” was a generous term, but she had gotten to where she needed to go, and that’s what mattered. She didn’t know it, but many other pegasi deeply envied her nigh-invulnerability when it came to crashing.

Shaking the dirt out of her mane, Ditzy trotted towards the entrance, and pushed the door open. It was a very boring house, brown and nondescript, so nondescript that most other ponies wouldn’t even realize it was there. She was certain there was some magic involved, but if there was she couldn’t quite say what.

The interior of the laboratory was a familiar whirring of gadgets, whirligigs, whozits, and other assorted trinkets, as well as many large machines of indiscernible purpose. Most would recognize it as the workspace of a very talented and slightly bonkers artificer, but Ditzy knew that it was something much more than that. He was much more than slightly bonkers.

“Ah, Miss Doo! Exactly who I wanted to see.” A familiar, strangely accented brown stallion turned away from one of the workbenches haphazardly placed about, balancing on his hoof a small cylindrical machine. It almost looked like the mechanical equivalent of a magic wand, but knowing Time Turner, it was probably something ten times weirder. He smiled gleefully as he approached, holding the machine close to her face. “See this? This is a fully-functioning replica of a very famous artifact that I so happen to have studied. Part of a collection of very famous artifacts I’ve been building for quite a long time now, actually. Take a look!”

Time Turner pointed the rod at large, very tall, and pyramid-shaped machine sitting in the corner of the laboratory, and then flipped a switch on the rod with his other front hoof. A muted yet distinctly grating whirr emitted from the end of the device, alongside a slight yellow glow. Finally, with another flip of the switch, he turned the device off.

Ditzy paused, trying to see if anything had changed about the pyramid, but even with her deceptively strong perceptions she came up short. “Um... it didn’t do anything.”

Time Turner grinned. “No, it did nothing. Doesn’t seem like much of a difference, but it’s actually a very important distinction, linguistically speaking.” With a casual toss, he sent the rod flying over his shoulder, where it landed clattering on the surface of a desk. “So, what can I do for you today?”

“Oh, right!” Once again, Ditzy’s attention had been so thoroughly captured by Time Turner’s eccentricities that she’d almost forgotten what she was going to say. “Doctor, I need your help! Princess Twilight’s a planeswalker, and she’s left Equestria for who-knows-where! We have to find her before something terrible happens!”

Time Turner’s eyes went as wide as dinner plates. “She’s a what now?”

“A planeswalker, Doctor!” said Ditzy. “I overheard Princess Celestia in a meeting at Twilight’s castle! She said Twilight fled the plane, and that she could be anywhere, and that anything could have happened to her by now! What do we do? We might never see her again!”

A wrinkle appeared on Time Turner’s forehead as he placed a hoof to his chin. “Hmm... yes, that could be a problem, couldn’t it? Let’s see here...” He reached into his mane and pulled out an object that Ditzy had seen many times before. It was a very old, tattered, and yellowed scrap of parchment that he made sure to carry with him at all times. Time Turner had been especially stubborn in refusing to divulge its contents, and he never kept it out long enough for Ditzy to sneak a look at it.

Finally, Time Turner put the parchment back into his mane. “Well, looks like our Princess Twilight is due for a rescue then, isn’t she? Did you find any more information about her possible whereabouts?”

Ditzy shook her head. “No, I haven’t. I’d heard Princess Celestia tell Twilight’s closest friends that they should be prepared for the possibility she’ll never return.” She could literally feel her heart ache remembering the looks on their faces, which still remained fresh in her mind. “Oh, they’ll be so devastated if she doesn’t come back! And that’s not even getting into all of the bad guys that could threaten Equestria! We’ve got to find her before it’s too late!”

Time Turner stepped forward, and his gaze intensified. Ditzy knew that look. It meant he wasn’t going to give up until he found an answer he was satisfied with. “And you’re absolutely, positively certain you have nothing else? No other facts to present, no information you could possibly deduce? You have to understand, I’ve not a lot to go on here.”

Ditzy groaned. “Doctor, if I could figure it out all by myself, I wouldn’t have come to you! It’s not like it’s possible for me to just go walking the planes searching for Twilight myself!”

Time Turner’s expression softened, and he let out a small chuckle. “Rule Number One of Planeswalking, Ditzy: nothing is impossible. There are as many time streams as there are worlds in the multiverse. I’m certain there’s at least one alternate timeline where you’re just as much a planeswalker as I am.”

Ditzy performed a gesture that might have been an eye roll, had one of her eyes not veered into a wildly different direction. Time Turner had always managed to be an endless font of information that was exactly irrelevant to the current situation. “Celestia forbid. I have enough adventure in my life with you around, mister!”

“Doctor mister,” Time Turner interjected. “I’ve a lot of degrees to my name, as I’m sure you know.”

“Whatever!” said Ditzy. “That’s not important right now! What’s important is that you find some way of locating Twilight and bring her back here. She’s the Princess of Friendship and the Element of Magic, for crying out loud! Her fate is deeply connected to the fate of Equestria itself!”

Time Turner paused. “Deeply connected...” A sudden glint appeared in his eye, and his entire body perked up in an instant. He suddenly reached forward and grabbed Ditzy Doo on her cheeks, grinning so widely that it looked like his face would split itself in two. “That’s it! Ditzy, you’re a genius!”

Ditzy blinked. “I am?”

“Of course you are!” said Time Turner, releasing his grip. Ditzy had never seemed to mind when he invaded her personal space. No matter how off his rocker the old pony seemed, his intentions had never been anything but pure. He was... well, chaste, something that couldn’t be said for some of the other stallions she’d met. “Come on, then, there’s no time to waste! To Twilight’s castle! Allons-y!”

“Doctor, wait! Come back!” By the time she had called out, Time Turner had already bolted out the door. Her muscles moved almost by habit at this point, hurriedly chasing after him on hoof. “Don’t leave me behind! I still don’t understand Prench!”

————————

By the time she’d finally caught up with Time Turner, Ditzy’s lungs had felt like they had caught fire, then burned down to ash, then caught fire again. Time Turner could gallop at absolutely incredible speeds, to the point where Ditzy was almost sure he could perform a sonic rainboom on hoof if he tried hard enough.

The good Doctor (or so he repeatedly insisted he be called) was standing on a small hill just before the thoroughfare leading directly into Twilight’s castle. The sun had begun to dip ever so slightly below the horizon, leaving a brilliant shimmering glow to cover the sky. As the light refracted off the crystal castle, it painted the entire neighborhood in shades of bright red, orange, and gold. It was a beautiful sight, and knowing Equestrian traditions, there was likely already at least one pony named after it.

“So,” Ditzy spoke breathlessly as she approached, “what’s the plan?”

“Easy,” Time Turner replied. His beaming face showed not a single drop of fatigue. “We head straight into the castle and harness the power of the Cutie Map to find Twilight.”

“What?” said Ditzy. “Now hold on! You can’t be suggesting we just barge right in and take the Cutie Map’s magic for our own purposes! There’s no way anypony’s going to let us do that, especially not after that stunt Starlight Glimmer pulled!”

“...Starlight Glimmer?” Time Turner spoke the name with a degree of familiarity, and his face almost immediately morphed into something Ditzy had rarely seen.

Time Turner was not a pony who was easily angered. She’d only ever seen him angry once before, right after he’d become aware of Starlight’s time travel attempts. It had arguably come from a place of righteousness, and it was not in any way directed at herself, but Ditzy found it a terrifying sight to behold. Time Turner, despite his quirks and weird little habits, was still one of the kindest, downright friendliest ponies she’d ever met. Anger didn’t even seem to be in his vocabulary. And yet here he was, seething so much he was practically smoldering.

“...Of course, I remember now,” Time Turner said darkly. “I’d been so caught up in my little project that I missed just what a mess she’d made with the time stream. I’ve been too busy to even bother speaking with her. I’ll have some words with her when I get the chance, oh yes...”

“U-um, Doctor?”

“Ah, right!” Time Turner snapped back to his chipper self immediately, and any trace of negative emotion written on him was suddenly erased. “The Cutie Map. Don’t you worry about that. I’ve got just the thing.”

Time Turner stamped his front hoof against the ground, and Ditzy’s ears were assaulted by the most disgusting and unpleasant sound she had heard in her life. It had sounded like a DJ-P0N3 song, but instead of a speaker it was played through a particularly wet fart. Through the utterly repulsive noise she could barely make out the sound of a clock winding down.

Then, in a flash of light, everything stopped. The entire plane became utterly silent. The air remained still, the few ponies left on the streets stopped moving, and even the sun ceased its slow descent into nightfall. She and Time Turner were the only things that moved in sight, and the only things that moved period.

Ditzy’s jaw hung loose. “What in the world!?”

“Time stop spell,” said Time Turner, teeth somehow managing to shine in the sunset’s glow, despite the fact that light itself probably wasn’t moving anymore. Come to think of it, how were they even breathing? “I learned it from my old mentor, Teferi. Wonderful fellow, taught me near everything I know. He’s actually still alive, believe it or not!”

“I... Buh... Wha...”

“Now, there’s only a bit of time left before time itself starts existing again,” said Time Turner. “I know that doesn’t sound possible, but you’ll have to take my word for it when I say that it makes sense when you examine it on a metaphysical level. And just for you, I’ll say it in Equestrian this time: let’s go!”

“What? Doctor, wait!”

————————

Thankfully, this time it had been far easier to catch up to Time Turner, as the distance to be covered was substantially less. He had even been polite enough to wait by the door and open it for Ditzy. Despite his eccentricities, Time Turner was still a gentlecolt at heart.

Her companion led her into the castle, where she came across a scene that looked like a photograph that was taken at one of the worst moments possible. Pinkie Pie’s still form was sobbing in a corner, with Rarity and Fluttershy both attempting to comfort her. Meanwhile, Applejack and Rainbow Dash were both frozen in place as they yelled at each other in what was presumably a heated argument. Finally, Spike and Starlight Glimmer were both embracing each other in a tight hug, with Spike’s tears leaving the hair on her chest soaked and matted.

Ditzy’s ears pressed against the back of her head as she observed the scene. They were all struggling with the loss of someone very dear to their hearts, someone they loved so intensely they might as well have been family.

At the very least though, they would be getting their loved one back. Some ponies were not so lucky.

No. Now wasn’t the time to dredge that up. Ditzy inhaled sharply (seriously, how was she doing that?) and approached Time Turner, who was now leaning over the crystal table that would become the Cutie Map when its magic was active.

“So, uh,” she said, “you still haven’t told me exactly what you’re doing.”

“Nothing complicated,” said Time Turner. That meant it almost certainly was, but Ditzy couldn’t tell if Time Turner meant it as a boast, or if he just didn’t grasp what ordinary ponies considered complicated. “The Elements of Harmony aren’t around anymore, correct?”

“Right,” said Ditzy.

“Trick question. They are,” said Time Turner. Before Ditzy could raise an objection, he continued speaking, as if he were anticipating the response. “Oh sure, their physical anchors have been lost, but Harmony herself isn’t going anywhere. Her magic is deeply embedded within the very soul of this plane, and that magic just so happens to be able to manifest itself through her connection to her six chosen avatars.”

Ditzy gave Time Turner a perplexed stare. It was difficult to pull off when only one eye went where she told it to go, but she’d mastered the art of doing more with less. “Why are you talking about harmony like it’s an intelligent being?”

“Because that’s what she is, isn’t she?” said Time Turner. “We’re talking about capital-H Harmony here, and as it so happens, her connection to the six Element Bearers is currently maintained...” he thumped the crystal table with a hoof, and an assortment of blinking motes danced across its surface, before disappearing again. “...By this Cutie Map right here.”

“Oh!” said Ditzy. “I get it! And you can use the Cutie Map to trace that connection to Twilight, and find out exactly where in the multiverse she is!”

“Precisely!” said Time Turner. “And I owe this whole idea to you, my dear Ditzy. You really are quite the inspiration, you know that?”

Ditzy could feel the blood rushing to her face. He had a knack for making her blush like that.

“Well Miss Doo, I must be off!” said Time Turner. “Take care of the laboratory when I’m away, will you? I’ll be back before you know it!” He closed his eyes, and there was a sound not unlike a house key being dragged along a piano string as he planeswalked away, his body fading out of view.

Ditzy let out a contented sigh. “I’ll see you soon, Doctor.”

Wait. Something wasn’t right here. Ditzy could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as the last vestiges of Time Turner’s image disappeared from sight. Surely enough, her eye swiveled around as she stood in place, and she was greeted with the sight of... of...

Oh. Oh, dear.

The ponies that had previously been frozen in place were now moving again, and all of them had directed their gaze at Ditzy, staring with a mixture of confusion, exasperation, and anger. She could feel their eyes boring straight through her, piercing into her very soul.

Ditzy turned towards her audience, smiled sheepishly, and made an effort to look as small as possible.

“Um... Sorry, wrong address?”

————————

Time Turner, Ph.D.2WU

Legendary Planeswalker — Doctor

+1: Draw a card at the beginning of your next upkeep.
-2: Put target artifact or creature on top of its owner’s library. Its controller gains 2 life.
-8: You get an emblem with “At the beginning each end step, if it’s not your turn, take an extra turn after this one.”

Author's Note

Yup, it’s Time Turner. Why, were you expecting someone else? :trollestia:

Time Turner was an interesting card to design, as all of his abilities were meant to be themed around time manipulation. I originally wanted his first minus ability to be a variation on an extra turn ability, but couldn’t come up with restrictions that would make it balance. Instead, his -2 is an ability akin to Excommunicate and Time Ebb, with an added flaw so it’s not too powerful. Straight card draw at +1 for a 4-mana walker is a bit too powerful to exist yet, so instead Time Turner lets you “suspend” a draw for a turn, essentially turning his card advantage into a time-based mechanic.

Worth noting that Time Turner here is not the same Doctor as the one in Doctor Who. (I’m self-indulgent, but I’m not that self-indulgent.) Besides, with Venser dead, we need another planeswalker to fill the role of Tenth Doctor expy.

Be sure to check the comments for an extra bonus card!

Bloodrush

Truthfully, Time Turner hadn’t done much planeswalking since the Great Mending. The feeling of rushing through the Blind Eternities was one that he had been familiar with for centuries, yet in recent decades there was something distinctly different about it. A tingle as he rushed across pandimensional space that wasn’t there before, a subtle reminder of his newfound vulnerability.

Thanks to the Cutie Map’s aid (and Harmony herself, of course), Time Turner could see the mana line that connected Princess Twilight to her home plane. It was a single stream of magic, gleaming brightly even among the swirling colors between planes, pulsing with a power that few planeswalkers today possessed. Following it led him across hundreds if not thousands of different planes, each nearly indistinguishable from one another from the outside.

Finally, the line connected to a single plane, in a vast expanse of space that was devoid of other planes. Space itself seemed to fold around the plane from most sides, leaving only a single opening in the spatial pocket where the plane could be accessed.

A grin broke out on Time Turner’s face. He’d seen that pocket before, many years ago. With renewed determination, he charged forward through the Blind Eternities, diving straight into the plane.

As his body materialized, his eyes took a moment to adjust to his new surroundings, blurry scenery coming into focus as his senses recalibrated themselves. When his vision cleared, he found himself in the midst of a street that looked to have been utterly destroyed. Massive, crumbling constructions dotted the road on both sides, with grass slipping through the cracks of the cobblestone roads, trees bursting through the pavement, and vines slithering their way up the collapsing buildings. It looked like jungle that was made of equal parts stone and plant life.

From the looks of it, he had ended up right in the middle of the Rubblebelt, just as he intended. Planeswalking to a specific location in any plane was difficult, but he had a great many years of practice beneath his belt. Besides, the Rubblebelt was one of the ideal locations to arrive in if he wished to avoid being seen, thanks to its extremely sparse population.

Of course, there was still the matter of finding Princess Twilight. Time Turner closed his eyes, focusing his magical sense on the same mana line that drew him to the plane. He could feel Harmony’s magic, and he could feel it leading somewhere to the west. All he had to do was follow it.

He was then suddenly pulled out of his focus by a sudden jolt running down his spine: a quasi-psychic danger impulse that he’d developed from hundreds of years of training. Time Turner’s eyes snapped open and he stamped his hoof. Guided by his own will, his magic was channeled into a thin membrane of temporal stasis surrounding his body, one that would stop any projectile approaching him in its tracks.

Sure enough, just to the right of him was a very large javelin, carved from wood and bone, one that would have impaled him right through the head if he had acted even a moment later. He released the temporal membrane, letting the javelin drop to the ground with a clatter.

“Alright! Come on out, then!” Time Turner called out. “I know you’re out here somewhere! No sense hiding from me now, is there?”

“Whoa, you can talk?” It was a youthful voice, male from the sound of it, and it came calling from high above.

Time Turner looked in the direction of the voice, and saw an adolescent boy sitting atop one of the ruined buildings. His skin was dark, and he wore sparse clothing made from animal hide. His head possessed only a single tuft of hair on top, as well as several facial tattoos and piercings. Most noticeably, he carried by his side an axe that was larger than his entire body, crudely cobbled together from salvaged wood and animal bones. With impossible speed and grace, the boy jumped down from the building and approached.

“Yes, I can talk, thank you for noticing,” said Time Turner. “What I want to know is what you think you’re doing, attacking me out of the blue like that.”

The boy shrugged. “Hey, I just thought you were another animal. I’ve gotta eat, you know?” He stepped forward, regarding Time Turner curiously. “But now that I get a good look at you, you don’t quite look like any animal I’ve seen on this plane. You’re not really from Ravnica, are you?”

Plane. Somehow, this boy knew of the existence of other planes. Which could only mean...

Time Turner let out a laugh. “Another planeswalker! Well, talk about a coincidence! So, what do you call yourself? You’ve got a name, right?”

“Just call me Domri,” said the boy. “What exactly is a talking horse like you doing here on Ravnica, anyway?”

Time Turner paused. Beneath Domri’s wild appearance, there was a true sincerity in his eyes, and not a trace of harmful intent. He had all the trappings of a Gruul, and though they were widely derided as savages, they lived more honestly than most of the ponies he had met. They were not ones to deceive others in any circumstance, and they didn’t have the subtlety for it regardless.

Trusting Domri with the information of why he’d come to Ravnica was a gamble, but it was one he could easily manage. A Gruul wouldn’t spread rumors or gossip about his presence in the multiverse. For the most part, they didn’t care for anything but preserving their own way of life, and protecting it from the constant encroach of civilization.

“There’s someone I happen to be looking for,” Time Turner finally spoke. “A pony like me, only she’s bright purple, and has both wings and a horn. Does that ring any bells?”

Domri shrugged. “Can’t say I have, no. Is she a friend of yours?”

“Well, no,” said Time Turner. “Princess Twilight Sparkle happens to be a very important person on my home plane, and it’s of utmost importance that she be returned as possible, or things could get quite nasty in the near future. So as you can imagine, I’ve come here to bring her back.”

“A princess, huh?” Domri’s eyes narrowed. “You mean like some kind of authority figure. Someone who rules over others.”

Oh. Oh, bollocks. That was a mistake. In all his life, Time Turner had never quite gotten a solid grasp on when to stop talking. “Now hold on there, it’s not exactly like that...”

“You know, now that I look at you, you look kind of like one of those Azorius,” Domri continued. “All neat and tidy, like you want everything in its place. Like you want to put everyone else in their place. And that magic you used before looked like the same kind of magic they use.”

“Well, in some sense, perhaps, but I’ve never quite seen eye-to-eye with any of the guilds here,” Time Turner protested. “There a quite a few things I find questionable about the Azorius in particular, and... and you’re not going to listen to what I say about that, are you?”

“Nope,” said Domri, tightening his grip on his axe. “I don’t think I like princesses. And I think your people would be better off without one.”

“Now hold on, let’s not do anything rash he—”

Time Turner abruptly cut himself off when Domri’s axe came swinging horizontally towards his head, forcing him to duck just beneath the attack. Before he could even think to say anything else, Domri followed the movement up with a second, vertical swing. As Time Turner jumped back to avoid the blow, the impact of bone against the ground caused an explosion of dirt and cobblestone.

The distance that Time Turner had created was quickly closed by Domri, who came swinging with his axe once more. Time Turner had always prided himself on his incredible agility and speed; even without the aid of his chronomancy he was fast and nimble enough to outpace almost every other pony he’d ever known. Yet here Domri was, not only able to keep up with him, but keep up with him while swinging an axe that seemed far too large for him to carry.

Then, the answer came to him. He could sense the mana that Domri was drawing into himself from Ravnica’s leylines: equal parts red and green. Red magic for speed, and green magic for strength. If that was all he could come up with, the boy was in over his head more than he could possibly comprehend.

Time Turner dodged another strike aimed at his head, and then spoke. “You know, you’re not the first planeswalker—” Another swing, another miss. “—to use this kind of magic against me.”

“Oh?” said Domri. Another swing of his axe, hitting only the empty air where Time Turner was a moment before. “So who’s the other guy?”

“Nasty-looking goat fellow,” said Time Turner. There was a whiff as Domri’s axe passed dangerously close to his own ear. “Quite vicious, liked to burn things.”

“Not a fan of burning things,” said Domri. “I prefer smashing stuff.” As if to demonstrate, he swung his axe again, only to be met with the same result as all his other attempts.

“I can see that, yes,” said Time Turner, managing to roll his eyes even as the axe came crashing down on the space he previously occupied. “The point is that he was quite a lot more formidable than you—” The axe once again whizzed past his head. “—and I still defeated him. Quite soundly, even. So what chance do you think you have, going up against someone like me?”

“I’m not afraid of you,” said Domri. He raised his axe once again, this time above his own head.

“But you should be,” Time Turner shot back. “And this is why.” Just as Domri began moving to send the axe crashing down, he reacted. This time, instead of dodging, he sent out a burst of his magic. Domri was at once enveloped in a transparent, shimmering bubble, holding every part of him completely in place. A muffled ‘mmph’ sound came from Domri as he feebly attempted to protest.

“Alright, Domri,” said Time Turner, approaching the young planeswalker with a glare. “Since you’ve been remarkably stubborn thus far, I’m going to go ahead and spell this out for you as clearly and plainly as possible. You, under absolutely no circumstances, will ever be able to hurt me. I’m far older and far stronger than you, and there isn’t anything you can do to me that I haven’t survived at least a dozen times before. But there’s something else I want you to understand.”

Domri let out a wordless grunt, his mouth twitching ever so slightly.

“I want you to understand that, while you may be unable to hurt me, I under absolutely no circumstance will hurt you,” Time Turner continued. “Not just because you’re only a child, but because I’ve no reason to hurt someone who is so very, very outmatched. But though I won’t hurt you, if you continue to antagonize me, you’ll find that I have no qualms making your life unreasonably frustrating. So you go your own way, and I’ll go mine, and we’ll both forget that this ever happened. Do we have a deal?”

Time Turner released his magic, and Domri collapsed to the ground. Time Turner expected some hostility as he picked himself up to his feet, but instead Domri looked at him and smirked.

“Alright, deal,” said Domri. “I’m not the one you should be worried about, anyway. I was just keeping you busy.”

Time Turner blinked, and he felt a sudden realization punch him in the gut. The red and green magic he sensed before. Domri wasn’t just using it on himself.

A deafening roar suddenly pierced the air, causing Time Turner’s ears to reflexively fold back on themselves.

“Sorry, I’ve gotta go,” said Domri, grinning. “I don’t want to be around when that thing gets hungry.”

“Hold on! Now you wait just a moment here!” Time Turner cried out, but by then it was too late. Domri had already leapt into the air, carrying his axe with him as he jumped across the rooftops, fleeing into the distance.

The hair on the back of Time Turner’s neck stood on end even before he heard the beast’s approach, a cacophonous symphony of thunderous footsteps, crunching stone, and crashing branches. He turned towards the direction of the noise, a ruined cathedral just to his left, and assumed a defensive stance.

Suddenly, the stone entrance of the building violently exploded outwards, spewing chunks of stone, dust, and splintered wood out with the force of a volcano. Time Turner shielded himself from the debris with a temporal bubble, and looked through it to see the source of the disturbance. When the dust cleared, he felt a twinge of fear for what was probably the first time since the Mending.

The beast was a massive, hulking creature that stood nearly fifty feet tall, leaving the cathedral interior utterly demolished as the monster forcefully cleared a path through it. Though its shape was vaguely humanoid, its features were like a grotesque parody of bipedal life. It was a dark grey mass of pure muscle and sinew, and no face but a single maw filled with predatory teeth, each of them as large as a pony, dripping with saliva that left disgusting, sticky puddles on the ground.

“Well now,” said Time Turner. “I suppose you’re not interested in negotiating, are you?”

If the beast understood language, it wasn’t apparent in its response, as it instead lunged forward with a single arm, attempting to seize Time Turner in its hand. Time Turner reacted immediately, jumping to the right so that the beast was left only with empty air in its fist.

The trajectory of Time Turner’s jump carried him towards a massive tree that was growing through one of the buildings to the right, its trunk angled forty-five degrees from the ground, and its canopy more than a dozen feet above the beast’s head. As he landed, he ran up its trunk and onto the massive branches, and then leapt high into the air.

As his jump reached his peak, he would remain suspended in the air for only a brief moment before falling, but that was all the time he needed. He applied a bit of time magic on a pocket of air just in front of him, enveloping it in a thin membrane. The flow of time within the bubble was sped up to several hundred times faster than normal, and the air within it glowed red-hot from the increased motion of its molecules.

Then, twisting his body around, he kicked the fast-time bubble with a rear hoof. The temporal bubble vanished instantly, causing the air within it to expand outwards with explosive force. With another subtle touch of his magic, all of the motion of the expanding air was condensed into a single linear vector, aimed straight at the monster’s head.

It was one of Time Turner’s favorite tricks. A destructive burst of sonic energy, created solely through the manipulation of time.

There was a painful shriek in the air as the monster recoiled from the impact, crashing through even more of the ruined cathedral. Time Turner, propelled backwards by the force of his attack, landed back onto the branches of the tree.

The monster picked itself back onto its feet, clutching its forehead in pain. Rivers of crimson blood dripped from the wound beneath its palm, staining the ground beneath it deep red. Teeth grinding together in rage, the monster let out a roar so intense that it generated a powerful gust of wind, threatening to blow Time Turner straight off the tree he stood on.

Thunderous footsteps like miniature earthquakes shook the ground as the monster charged forward. It raised a clenched fist and brought it smashing into the tree’s trunk. Time Turner reacted with a backwards leap, soaring high through the air. The tree’s trunk immediately shattered from the impact of the blow, sending splinters, leaves, bark and branches flying. He placed a quick shield around himself, stopping the worst of the debris from impacting him.

Another large branch, wide enough that he could stand on it, soared past Time Turner. With another touch of time magic, he adjusted his trajectory so that he landed hoof-first on the branch’s side. Then, before gravity could pull him off, and before the branch could even begin to land, he pushed off with his hooves once more, sending him soaring above the monster’s head.

This time, he created two separate bubbles of time magic. With a pair of rapid, twisting roundhouse kicks, Time Turner sent two sonic blasts at the monster in rapid succession. The impact was so intense that he could feel the shockwaves radiating from it.

The monster let out another roar, a desperate cry of pain and fury, as its body began frantically writhing, thrashing about with no aim or direction. Buildings and stonework buckled, crashed, and crumbled from the force of the monster’s rage, until finally, with one final cry, it collapsed head-first onto the ground. The cloud of dust it kicked up was so large that it billowed into the sky, no doubt visible for miles in every direction.

Finally, Time Turner descended back onto the ground, his fall slowed by the application of his own magic. He coughed as the dust from the monster’s fall invaded his lungs, and wiped the invasive particles from his eyes with his foreleg. When the dust finally cleared, the monster was lying dead, right in the middle of the crater its fall had created.

Time Turner let out a sigh of relief, allowing his own breath to catch up to him. “Well! That was exciting! I just hope I don’t attract that kind of attention again.”

————————

Sonic BoltW

Instant

Sonic Bolt deals 3 damage to target attacking or blocking creature.

“I don’t start fights, but I always end them.”
— Time Turner

Author's Note

The monster Time Turner fights, for those wondering, is a Skarrg Goliath. Fittingly, it takes three Sonic Bolts to take it down.

The card here was interesting to design, because while white is almost universally a defensive color, it does get a few spells that deal direct damage, but only ever to attacking or blocking creatures. A white analogue to Lightning Bolt isn’t too far-fetched, especially considering the existence of a white analogue to Shock.

Veiled Threats

Though fixing her tail with an illusion was nearly effortless, perfecting the human illusion spell was significantly more difficult. It had taken many tries to get it right, but thankfully for her Jace was an especially patient tutor.

The two of them had moved to the balustrade to practice the spell, just above the courtyard. Jace had wanted to give Twilight room to practice walking in her false body, reasoning that doing so in the common room would risk tripping and damaging one of his projects. Twilight had tried to protest, but several botched illusions where she fell flat on her face had proven him right on that regard.

Thankfully, the location had also given Twilight the opportunity to glimpse a duel between Gideon and Nissa in the courtyard. Gideon wielded a weapon made from several whip-like blades, while Nissa wielded a glowing green sword that had transformed from a wooden staff. The duel continued into a stalemate for the entire time Twilight practiced her illusion spell: Gideon surrounded himself in a glowing armor-like aura that seemed to be completely impervious to Nissa’s blade, while Nissa effortlessly danced around Gideon’s weapon, gracefully moving just beyond the reach of his weapon’s striking tendrils. Nissa, Twilight noticed, didn’t even seem to be using any of her magic at all.

After what felt like hundreds of attempts, Twilight finally managed to recreate the exact effect that Jace had shown her. She wasn’t sure exactly how many times she had attempted the illusion in the end, but it was already almost sunset by the time she finished. A few tentative steps, then a short sprint across the balustrade, then a series of jumping jacks confirmed that everything was in working order. Even if she wasn’t, she felt human in every possible regard.

“Yes!” Twilight cheered. “It worked!”

“I’m happy to help you out,” said Jace. He glanced towards the courtyard. Somehow, Nissa and Gideon were still engaged in their duel. “We should be heading in. It’s getting late, and I’ve a lot of paperwork to catch up on.”

Twilight dismissed the illusion, returning her perceptions to their natural state. An immaterial part of her felt heavy with fatigue, a feeling that was difficult to describe to anyone without a unicorn’s intrinsic ability to sense magic. “Sounds good to me. I could definitely use a rest.”

As Twilight headed inside, she wondered if the same would be true for the two planeswalkers that were still locked in combat.

————————

It didn’t take long for Twilight to notice that there was something off about the common room as she entered. Lavinia was absent, no doubt attending to her duties elsewhere as she often was, and Chandra had likely gone to her room, having burnt herself out both figuratively and literally. But it wasn’t the emptiness the bothered her. In fact, it was difficult to place just whatmade Twilight feel so uneasy. It felt like some kind of magic, but it wasn’t quite like any kind of magic she’d felt before.

It felt… wrong. Like the magic used by Nightmare Moon or King Sombra, yet somehow even darker, if that was even possible. An unnatural chill ran down her spine as she stepped further into the room. It was then that she found out why.

Climbing on top one of the bookshelf ladders was an animate human skeleton, removing books and placing them back in an apparently random order. There was a disgustingly loud cracking and popping motion as its head turned one-hundred and eighty degrees to face Twilight. The skeleton opened its mouth, emitting a dry, screeching hiss.

“Aiieeee!” Twilight jumped back in fright. In the very next moment, she was assuming a defensive stance, already gathering the mana she would need to blast the skeleton into oblivion. Before she could cast a spell, a voice called down from the stairway.

“Well, what do we have here? I didn’t know Jace kept such exotic pets.”

Twilight’s body whipped around, what she saw was significantly more frightening than an undead creature. A tall, slender woman with slick black hair and impossibly pale skin glided down the staircase, clad in a purple dress and a golden headgear resembling a pair of curved horns. But most concerning of all was the small object made of linked chains that dangled from her pocket. It was practically oozing dark power, so much that it overwhelmed Twilight’s thaumatic sense just to look directly at it. Every rational part of her mind shut down, leaving only her fight and flight responses to duel each other for supremacy.

Before either instinct could claim victory, the sound of Jace’s voice brought coherent thought back to her. He approached from behind Twilight, staring at the woman with… whatever the opposite of amused was. Alright, maybe she still wasn’t completely coherent.

“Liliana. What did I specifically ask you not do to?”

“Reanimate your model skeleton?” said Liliana.

“And what did you do?” said Jace.

“Reanimate your model skeleton.”

Unamused. That was the word Twilight was looking for, and Jace was the most perfect picture of it that she could imagine. He didn’t even look to be angry, strangely enough; it was more of the exasperated kind of look that Applejack would have given to Pinkie Pie’s less tolerable antics.

“Oh, alright, fine,” Liliana huffed. She waved her hand, and the skeleton instantly went limp, falling down the ladder and clattering lifelessly on the floor.

“I still want to know how you keep doing that,” said Jace. “The last time I checked, that skeleton was made of plaster.”

Liliana smirked, and held her finger against her lips. “Sorry, necromancer’s secret.”

It was then that Twilight’s thoughts decided to catch up to the rest of herself. “What!? Jace! You didn’t tell me you were friends with a necromancer!”

“It talks?” said Liliana. “That really is an exotic pet.”

“She’s not—”

“I’M NOT A PET!”

If Liliana had any reaction to Twilight’s outburst, she didn’t show it. She just stood there wearing that same smirk. It was not the smile of a nice person. It was not the smile of a good person. It wasn’t enough that she was a necromancer, she had to have the face of least trustworthy person in the multiverse.

So why, exactly, was Jace acting like she knew her on a deeply personal level?

“You’ll, er… You’ll have to excuse her,” said Jace. “This is Twilight Sparkle. She’s a planeswalker, and she’ll be staying with us until she can find a way back to her home plane.”

“Twilight Sparkle?” said Liliana. “I suppose that’s as good a name as any for something that looks like a prize from a carnival. Liliana Vess,” she said, introducing herself to Twilight. “I have to say you’re not what I would expect from a planeswalker. I’ll have to visit your plane sometime.”

“No!” Twilight blurted out. “I mean, um… you really shouldn’t. It’s dangerous. Really, really dangerous. Not a nice place to visit.” It was immediately apparent to her that Liliana wasn’t buying it. Twilight sighed inwardly: when caught in a lie so blatant, there was only one right thing to do.

Change the subject.

“Jace,” said Twilight, “whyexactly are you friends with her?”

“We’re not friends,” Jace replied, a little bit toohastily. “It’s... Well, let’s just say it’s complicated.”

Liliana brought a hand to her chest, in a mocking gesture that roughly imitated shock. “Why, Jace, I’m hurt. How could you say such a thing?”

“There are many things I could say about you,” Jace replied.

“Cute,” said Liliana. “I’ll admit, it was nice meeting your pretty little pony friend, but I must be going. I’ve already had all my fun here.”

Liliana’s legs moved in graceful strides as she made her exit. She didn’t even bother waiting for Jace or Twilight to move out of the way, leaving the two of them to stumble backwards awkwardly as she left. The door closed with a very loud slam as she exited the building through one of the many teleportals.

Twilight glared daggers at Jace. “Care to explain her?”

“Liliana is a member of the Gatewatch,” Jace replied. “She’s… well, useful. I wouldn’t say quite say she’s on good terms with everyone, but she’s willing to help us.”

“And you trust her?” Twilight accused. “Jace, she’s a necromancer! And that… that thing she carries with her has the most powerful dark magic I’ve ever seen! I could literally feelthe evil radiating off of it! And you’re telling me you’re just letting someone who carries something like that in her pocket be a part of the team?”

“We would all likely be dead were it not for her,” Jace countered. “The rest is, er… complicated, like I said before.”

“And what exactly is so complicated about it?” Twilight shot back. “It’s almost like you… you…” Twilight trailed off as a realization slowly wormed its way into her thoughts. When she finally became aware of it, it crashed its way into the center of her attention.

Twilight felt her heart drop into her stomach. “Oh, dear Celestia. You have a thing for her, don’t you?”

“What? No!” Jace, to his credit, seemed nearly as horrified by the accusation as Twilight was, yet there was far too much defensiveness in his tone to be entirely convincing.

“Don’t lie! You totally do!” said Twilight. “In what other social context is it appropriate to describe your relationship to someone as ‘it’s complicated?’ If that doesn’t scream ‘messy breakup,’ I don’t know what does!”

“I’m not hearing any more of this,” Jace tersely replied. He abruptly turned around and approached a work desk stacked with papers. As he did, a blue glow began to surround his ears.

“Hey! Don’t you turn away from me!” said Twilight. “You were romantically involved with someone who’s totally evil! You can’t just walk away from this!”

“If you’re saying something, I won’t hear it,” said Jace. “I’m now blocking out all of my auditory perceptions.”

Twilight groaned. “Oh, real mature!”

Jace didn’t respond. By then he was already sitting at his desk, diligently working on a very large stack of paperwork.

Twilight let out a sigh. “You know what? Fine. Have it your way. If you need me, I’ll be in my room. Just call me when dinner’s ready.” She turned around in a huff, making her way over the stairs.

Another realization crossed Twilight’s mind. Though her translation spell was still active, she’d been able to pick up some of the basics of the Ravnican language through her reading material. It was remarkably easy to learn, thanks mostly to its consistent phonetic spelling—a sharp contrast to the Equestrian language, which was an unholy mashup of Old Ponish, Prench, and loanwords from at least a dozen other dead and living languages.

With this information in mind, she could already picture the spelling of Liliana’s name in Ravnican. Her horn alighted, and a series of glowing purple letters appeared in the space in front of her.

LILIANA VESS

Slowly, Twilight reached out with a hoof and tapped the ethereal writing gently. At her touch, the letters began to swirl about in the air, rearranging themselves into different positions. When they stopped moving, they had spelled something completely different.

A VILLAINESS

Twilight frowned as she stared at the words in front of her.

“…Subtle.”

————————

Worst Impressions 3B

Sorcery

Reveal the top card of your library. Each opponent loses life equal to half that card’s converted mana cost, rounded up. You gain life equal to the life lost this way.

Sometimes evil is just as dangerous when it’s obvious.

Author's Note

I’ve just moved into a new apartment, and am expecting to start a new job early November. I’m likely going to be a lot busier after that, so sorry to say that I may not have as much time to be writing.

That said, I’m definitely getting closer to finishing Twilight’s Spark, and I already have a few plans in place for what comes next.

Return to Equestria

Twilight, true to her word, had spent a considerable amount of time within the guest room that Jace had provided. To her delight, the room had come furnished with its very own bookshelf, and she eagerly took the opportunity to devour as many of the dusty old tomes as she could. Figuratively devour, of course. She didn’t quite have the taste for paper products that Discord had.

As she lay in her bed, reading through a tome on the history of a plane called Kamigawa, she was pulled out of her session by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” said Twilight.

The door swung open with a creak, and Chandra stepped in. She’d changed out of her armor into what Twilight figured was a more casual outfit, a simple red robe that draped across her body. “Heya, Sparky.” she said. “Er, Twilight. Mind if I call you Twilight?”

Twilight smiled, feeling a slight giggle building in the back of her throat. “Not at all. It is my name, after all.”

“Right,” said Chandra. She casually walked over to the bed, and sat down right beside Twilight, causing the mattress to bounce slightly from the sudden impact. “How’s your tail doing? It looks like you’ve found a way to fix it.”

“Hm? Oh, that.” Twilight’s eyes turned backwards, towards the apparently regrown hair on her tail... ‘apparent’ being the operative word. “It’s just an illusion, actually. It should last me for the next twelve hours or so. It’ll take a while before the real hair can grow back.”

“Oh,” said Chandra. Her eyes looked heavier for a moment, as though weighed down by some feeling Twilight couldn’t quite identify. “Look, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about what happened back there, during our duel. It looked like you were really upset by what I did.”

Twilight looked into Chandra’s eyes. The orange tint that they normally carried seemed different, somehow. Still as bright as burning embers, yet somehow less fierce, almost like the warmth of a campfire. Twilight wasn’t even entirely sure if this was a metaphor: for all she knew, her fire magic had literally altered her eyes.

“It’s alright, Chandra,” said Twilight. “It’s no harm done.”

“You sure?” said Chandra. “You looked pretty horrified for a moment there, I just...” Chandra silently mouthed several words, as though they were being haphazardly smashed together to form a coherent sentence. “...I’m, uh, not the best at self-restraint. I can get a bit carried away sometimes, you know?” She reached out, and placed a hand on Twilight’s shoulder. “If I ever go too far, just tell me, okay? The last thing I’d wanna do is hurt you.”

Twilight smiled, feeling the warmth seeping into her body from Chandra’s touch. “I’ll be sure to say something, if it helps you feel better. Just don’t worry about it in the meantime, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks,” said Chandra. “Gids says dinner’s ready, by the way. You wanna come down?”

Twilight’s eyes trailed downward, towards her stomach, and her attention was immediately drawn to a yawning emptiness inside of it. A slight gurgle reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

“Food sounds good, now that you mention it,” said Twilight. “Just, um... can I ask you something first?”

“Shoot,” said Chandra.

“Do you, uh...” Twilight grinned sheepishly. “...Do you think you could scratch me behind the ears for a bit?”

————————

After a short yet very satisfying ear-scratching session, Twilight followed Chandra down the stairs, back into the common room. Her mind still buzzed from the pleasant sensation, and she couldn’t help but wonder how she’d not known about it sooner. Did all ponies have the same response to ear-scratches? Could that feeling be replicated with magic? What evolutionary purpose did a response to such a stimulus serve, given the relative rarity of opposable digits on her world?

Jace and Nissa had already sat themselves down at the central table, joined by Lavnia, who had presumably returned some time prior. Gideon, meanwhile, had already sat down at the far end, wearing a large white apron over his armor that was covered in grease stains. Two spaces were left unoccupied at the table, one on the end opposite Gideon, and one next to Nissa. Chandra walked over and roughly pulled out the chair by Nissa’s side, just before sitting down. She turned to Twilight and beckoned her to sit down at the remaining space.

A sudden apprehension grasped at Twilight’s chest. From her position on the ground, she couldn’t see what kind of food had been set out on the table, and the smell wafting from the dining area was one she couldn’t quite identify, one that brought an increasingly powerful nausea to her stomach. A suspicion began crawling its way into the back of her mind, one that she was not happy to have.

Twilight had been made vaguely aware that the humans of Anthropia were omnivorous, but never before had she actually seen her friends’ counterparts eat meat. She’d lived her experiences as a human never really giving it much thought, whether because it wasn’t relevant to her interests or because she simply didn’t want to think about it.

But when she climbed onto her chair and sat on her haunches, that thought became impossible to ignore. Plates were laid out before each of them in between a set of silverware and a glass of water, and all but hers and Nissa’s held what she could only presume was a very large chunk of cooked flesh. In addition to the meat, each plate contained an assortment of cooked vegetables: potatoes, onions, eggplants, bell peppers, and lentils, served in a brown sauce and seasoned with what appeared to be feta cheese crumbles and oregano. Twilight gave her serving of vegetables as much attention as she could, hoping it would distract the other servings.

“Are you alright, Twilight?” Gideon asked from across the table. “You look uncomfortable.”

“Huh?” Twilight looked up. Gideon had already speared a chunk of flesh on his fork, a striking contrast to the softness in his eyes. “U-um, well...”

“Her species likely evolved as prey,” Nissa chimed in. “It must frighten her to see you eating meat.”

Gideon’s grip on his fork loosened. “Ah. My apologies, Twilight. I’d made sure to serve you a vegetarian dish, but I didn’t think my food would make you uncomfortable.”

Twilight shook her head. Nissa was right: there was something about the human diet that unsettled her deeply, on a level beneath her rational mind. “It’s alright, Gideon. I can understand. My friend Fluttershy runs an animal sanctuary with several carnivorous species in it. It’s kind of disturbing to think about, but she always reassured me it was the natural way of things. I don’t know what kinds of animals you eat, so I don’t really know if I have a good reason to be upset with your diet.”

Jace paused, holding his fork just above his plate. “Interesting,” he said.

“What is?” said Twilight.

“I’m not an expert on biology by any means, and I usually trust Nissa’s judgement on other creatures,” said Jace. “But your eyes are, well...”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “My eyes? What about them?”

Jace’s expression remained mostly unchanged, save for a slight wrinkle of uncertainty in his brow. “Never mind. It’s not important.”

“Mmmmph,” said Chandra. She let out a loud gulp, swallowing a very large mouthful of food. “Come on, Jace, don’t leave us hanging! What’s this about her eyes?”

“Erm. Well, both of your eyes face forward,” said Jace. “To the best of my knowledge, that’s usually a trait that distinguishes predators.”

Twilight blinked. “A trait that distinguishes what now?”

“That’s a good point,” said Chandra, her words muffled by another chunk of meat that had found its way into her mouth. “I’ve heard horses can actually eat meat if you feed it to ‘em. I dunno how true that is for Twilight, though.”

Twilight loudly coughed, startled to such an extent that she nearly fell out of her chair. “Chandra! I can’t believe you’d say such a thing! That’s... That’s...” Her words trailed off, as an unpleasant nugget of information unearthed itself from the back of her mind. During times of famine, many centuries ago, some ponies were known to eat things that they wouldn’t ever think of otherwise. “...Okay, fine. That’s technically true, but why would I ever eat meat if I had a choice? That’s disgusting!”

Chandra shrugged, making a noise that vaguely sounded like ‘I dunno.’

Any hesitation that Jace had shown before had already disappeared. The sparkle of curiosity in his eye was unmistakable: Twilight had already seen it several times before. “So your herbivorous diet is more of a result of a cultural taboo? Interesting.”

“U-um, well...”

Gideon cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should change the subject. Twilight, how are you enjoying your food?”

“The food? Oh, right! It’s, uh...” Slowly, Twilight levitated the fork before her, scooping a biteful of vegetables onto it. A subtle apprehension fluttered within her as she lifted the utensil to her mouth and took a bite...

...and then, all at once, an overwhelming explosion of flavor assaulted her palate. She felt the pleasurable taste seep into her taste buds between every single chewing motion, leaving it to linger on her tongue after she swallowed. It took every bit of willpower she had to maintain some semblance of table manners, and avoid devouring her entire plate face-first.

“Oh my gosh, this is delicious! Gideon, did you make this yourself?”

Gideon laughed, a deep guffaw that rumbled off the walls. “I’m glad you enjoyed it! The life of a soldier is normally ill-suited to fine cuisine, you see. I made sure to learn a thing or two about cooking in my spare time. Spice things up, so to speak.”

That was all the answer Twilight needed. She spent rest of the meal eagerly chowing down, the less-than-pleasant thoughts of meat already forgotten.

————————

Time Turner’s illusion magic had managed to stay up long enough for him to follow the mana line well into the Tenth District. Apart from a few instances where a passerby bumped into him without realizing what they had bumped into, he had blended into the busy scenes of Ravnica without a hitch. Of course, he still couldn’t help but feel that it would have gone easier if he were human, and it was during such times that he truly missed his shapeshifting ability. Still, it wasn’t worth getting too worked up about. Before long, he had already reached his apparent destination.

By the time he’d arrived, the sun had already dipped below the horizon. It was difficult to keep track of the exact time, given Ravnica’s different solar cycle, but back on Equestria it would have likely been several hours further into the night. As he approached the end of the mana line, what he saw was truly curious.

It was a building, almost perfectly nondescript in its appearance, much different from the extravagant architecture on the rest of Ravnica. It was so nondescript that his mind struggled to even find an accurate description of it at all. In fact, he noticed that it took a significant amount of willpower to even keep his eyes on it; his gaze seemed to slide away from the building of its own accord whenever he was not giving it his utmost focus. He recognized that magic. It was another perception filter, just like the one he’d been using.

“Well, aren’t you clever?” Time Turner said with a grin. “Or at least you would be, except for the fact that I’m here.”

Making his way up the side of the building, he placed a hoof on a crack in the stonework, and began slowly crawling his way up.

————————

“Ugggghh...”

Twilight had almost regretted stuffing her face with so many vegetables. The meal was one of the best she’d had in recent memory, but she hadn’t even bothered to pay attention to how much of it she was having. She hadn’t felt this bloated since the day she met Applejack.

The rest of the night was spent lying down on her bed and reading, leaving the window open to a pleasant nighttime breeze. It was no different from her usual pastime, but this time around it served the secondary purpose of helping her keep herself distracted from the uncomfortable bulge in her tummy. Twilight briefly had a thought of starting a regular exercise regimen; eating that much in one sitting couldn’t be healthy, even for an alicorn.

She’d spent some time idly flipping through the pages of her book (this one on a plane called Shandalar), when a strange sound registered on the edges of her awareness. Her ears unconsciously swiveled towards the bedroom window, and she could just barely make out the very familiar sound of hooves against a hard surface. It became louder and louder, until finally it ended with a distinctive clumph just inside the window, the unmistakable sound of four hooves hitting the floor at once.

Twilight turned her head so fast that it nearly gave her whiplash, and what she saw was so startling that it nearly gave her a heart attack. There, standing just beneath the open window, was a very earth pony stallion. He had a light brown coat and a darker brown mane, an hourglass cutie mark, and wore a small white collar with a green bow tie. As she started, Twilight couldn’t shake off the feeling that she’d seen the pony before.

The stallion dusted himself off, then turned to face Twilight, his eyes widening in sudden recognition. “Ah, Princess Twilight! Glad to see you’re in one piece. I’ve been looking for you, don’t you know.”

“Ah... Buh... Wha...” Twilight babbled incoherently, her mind feebly grasping at anything it could find to understand the situation. It had taken several painful moments before it found something it could use. Namely, that the pony standing before her was none other than Ponyville’s town timekeeper.

“T-Time Turner?” Twilight stammered.

“Doctor Time Turner,” he replied, so quickly that it almost seemed like a reflex. “I didn’t go through eight years of higher education eleven separate times for nothing, you know.”

“Eleven...?” Twilight paused, momentarily taken aback. “Hold on, you don’t actually expect me to believe you have eleven doctorates, do you? That’s ridiculous. It’s not even funny! But more importantly, what in Celestia’s name are you doing here!?”

Time Turner didn’t seem to be at all perturbed by Twilight’s sudden outburst. On the contrary, he looked downright pleased with himself. “Well, isn’t it obvious? I’m a planeswalker, just like you. I’m here to make sure you’re able to return to where you need to be.”

If Twilight could see her own eyes at that moment, they would have looked so big that she could see their whites from a mile away. “You’re a what?”

“You heard that right, Princess. I’ve been traveling through time and relative dimensions in space for a little under...” Time Turner paused, tapping a hoof to his chin. “...Oh, let’s say about twelve hundred years.”

“T-Twelve hundred?” Twilight’s head was already spinning. If she were to take Time Turner’s word, that would make him just about as old as the Royal Sisters. It was almost unthinkable, and yet...

...and yet she couldn’t think of any other plausible explanation for his presence. Despite the importance of his profession, Time Turner was notoriously reclusive. No one knew of his history, and he was almost never seen outside of his work, as though he’d simply blended into the background of Ponyville. He could have easily been absent for months at a time without anyone noticing.

“Well, you have to understand, planeswalkers didn’t age in my day the same way they do now.” Judging by his response, Time Turner had very easily read the bewilderment on Twilight’s face. “Although, it does help to have a little bit of chronomancy on the side. It really does wonders preserving my youth, though I suspect that won’t be as much of a problem for an alicorn like yourself.”

“I...” Twilight placed a hoof to her head, trying to hold it steady. “I’m sorry, this is just so much to take in. You’ve been a planeswalker this entire time and nopony noticed?”

“For the most part, no,” Time Turner replied. “You’ll soon learn that I have a very good reason to keep my presence in the multiverse hidden.”

“Oh,” said Twilight. It made a strange kind of sense that she hadn’t heard anything from Time Turner before, yet there was something in the back of her mind that she couldn’t quite shake off. Her gaze snapped back to attention when she became aware of it. “Wait, what do you mean I’ll soon learn?”

“Sorry, that would be a spoiler,” said Time Turner. Despite his words, the grin on his face didn’t look sorry in the slightest.

Twilight fought the urge to facehoof. “A spoiler? What do you think this is, some kind of novel?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s exactly a novel,” said Time Turner. “But in either case, the most important thing right now is that you’re looking for a way back to Equestria. Is that correct?”

Twilight felt a sharp pang within her chest. Despite the new friends she’d made, for the past two days she had felt a constant, nagging reminder that she was in a foreign land, far away from the world she’d called home.

Twilight sighed. “Yeah. You’re right. I want to go home, but I... I just don’t know how I’m supposed to get there. The multiverse is just so big, and I have no idea where to even start looking.”

Time Turner approached the bed, looking up to meet Twilight’s eyes. There was something softer about his gaze as he did so, a genuine compassion that reflected itself in the corners of his eyes. “Well, Princess, I’d say you’re thinking about this the wrong way. You’re the Element of Magic, correct?”

“Um... yeah,” said Twilight. “At least I was, but the Elements of Harmony are gone now. What does that have to do with anything?”

“The Elements were never gone, Twilight,” said Time Turner. “They’ve been embedded within the soul of the plane since the day it was born. And right now, I’d say you’re just as connected to your Element now as you’ve always been.”

“Just as connected?” said Twilight. Then, almost right away, an epiphany came barreling its way into her thoughts. “Wait! Are you saying I can use my connection to the Element of Magic to find my way back home?”

“Now you’ve got it!” said Time Turner. “And now that you understand that connection, it should be fairly simple for you to follow it back to its source. It’s a good thing I was here to help you out, wasn’t it?”

Before she could even think to respond, Twilight closed her eyes, turning her mind inward. Almost right away, she could see it. She could see the line of magic connecting to her own soul, extending outward into the farthest reaches of infinity. It was through that line that she would find her home, by its guidance that she would return to the friends and family she’d left behind.

When Twilight opened her eyes again, she could barely hold back the tears forming in them. It felt as though a wave of joy and relief had washed over her, rinsing away the last of the doubts and uncertainties that had clung to her heart.

“Thank you, Time Turner,” she said. “I don’t know how I could possibly repay you for this.”

“Don’t worry about repayment, Princess,” said Time Turner. “Just making sure you’re able to return home safe is good enough. Now then, you should be all set to go back, correct?”

“I think so,” said Twilight. She hadn’t tried to return to Equestria yet, but there was hardly any uncertainty left in her mind. She would see her friends again, one way or another.

“Good, good,” Time Turner replied. “In that case, I really must be going. I’m certainly glad to have helped while I had the chance.”

“Huh? You’re leaving already?” said Twilight.

“Oh, I’m certain we’ll be seeing more of each other in the future,” Time Turner reassured. “But right at this moment, I’ve got a lot of important work that I need to be doing. Farewell for now!” Twilight felt a sudden pulse of magic, and Time Turner’s image began to fade, accompanied by a very loud noise that sounded like metallic scraping.

“Time Turner, wait!” Twilight called out.

By then, however, he was already gone. As he vanished, Twilight could almost swear she heard the stallion insist on being called ‘Doctor.’

————————

Most of the others had already gone to sleep for the night. That itself was disappointing, as Twilight had hoped to give them all one last goodbye before leaving.

Knocking on the doors to the other bedrooms proved fruitless, so Twilight instead trotted her way down the stairs, into the common room. There, she saw Jace hunched over a desk, toiling away at yet another stack of paperwork. A steaming mug sat dangerously close to the parchment, filled with a coffee so strong that Twilight could smell it even from a distance.

“Jace?” Twilight spoke quietly as she approached, hoping not to startle him.

“Hm?” Jace turned his head over his shoulder to face Twilight, a set of heavy bags beneath his eyes. “What is it, Twilight?”

“Oh, um...” Twilight gulped silently. Despite the happy news, her voice carried a nervous edge. “I, um, just wanted to say something. I think I may know how to get back to Equestria.”

“You do?” said Jace. His posture straightened, and it became clear that Twilight now had his full attention. “That’s great news! Are you planning on returning there soon?”

“I was planning on returning there right away, actually,” Twilight answered. “I’d thought about waiting until tomorrow morning to say goodbye, but... I dunno. I guess I couldn’t bear the thought of keeping my friends back home waiting any longer. They’re probably worried sick about me.”

“Completely understandable,” said Jace. “You’ll come back and visit us in Ravnica sometime, I hope.”

Twilight smiled warmly. “I will. And thank you, Jace. I’m really glad to have met you.”

Jace returned the smile. Twilight had rarely seen him emote so strongly, but when he did there was always a genuine sincerity to it. “And you as well. Perhaps you can take me to your plane someday and introduce me to your friends.”

A slight giggle worked its way up Twilight’s throat. “I’d love to. I think you’d get along nicely. So, um... goodbye for now, I guess.”

“Goodbye, Twilight,” said Jace. “I’ll be sure to let the others know in the morning that you left. I look forward to seeing you again.”

Twilight felt a twinge of regret, knowing that she was leaving without saying anything to the other Gatewatch members, but it was vastly overwhelmed by her yearning for her homeland. She could already imagine the joy on her friends faces, seeing her return safely, and experiencing the warmth and comfort of her own home. The only thing she didn’t look forward to was the paperwork she’d left behind, which she was unfortunately reminded of as Jace turned back to continue his own.

Closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, Twilight channeled the same magic that brought her to Ravnica. This time, however, she also focused her mind on her own connection to the Element of Magic, to the connection that she shared with all her friends. The magic washed over her, and she could feel herself being pulled away from the ground she stood on.

————————

When the sensation of planeswalking ended, Twilight was made painfully aware of an uncomfortable fact. All around her body was an expanse of warm water, soaking into every inch of her coat and mane. Her breath instinctively held itself, unwilling to inhale the water that surrounded her.

Slowly, Twilight opened her eyes, and they were both immediately assaulted by an intense stinging sensation. It wasn’t the sting of salt water, as she might have expected, but the sting of artificial chemicals that were never meant to come into contact with an uncovered eye to begin with. She cried out in pain, and the water that flooded into her mouth had the distinctive taste of... soap?

Twilight’s body jolted upwards, swimming upwards as fast as she could. With her eyes squinted tightly, it was impossible to see which way was up, but on some level she knew which direction she needed to go. The trip was surprisingly short, and from the looks of it the body of water was only a foot or two deeper than her full height.

Frantically treading water, her eyes quickly readjusted themselves, and the blurry image focused into a scene she could identify. She was in a great marble room with ornately decorated columns. A multitude of carved alicorn statues on the walls spewed warm water into a massive basin, large enough to cover nearly all of the space in the room.

“Great Epona’s wings! What is the meaning of this!?”

The voice boomed with power and authority, and Twilight swiveled around to face whoever its owner was. Namely, a very large dark alicorn, carrying a rubber duck.

“Princess Luna! Oh my gosh, I’m so happy to see you!”

“Get out!”

“But—”

“GET OUT!”

Twilight scurried out of the bath chambers as quickly as her wings could carry her. The Royal Canterlot Voice, she’d learned, was not something to be argued with.

————————

Equestria

Plane — Ungula

All creatures get +1/+1 and are Horses in addition to their other types.

Creature spells and creature cards that aren’t on the battlefield are Horses in addition to their other types.

Whenever you roll {Chaos}, put a +1/+1 counter on each Horse you control.

Author's Note

Welcome back to Equestria! As I’ve stated in a previous blog post, there will probably be one or two more chapters after this one before the fic is complete. From there, you can anticipate seeing some sequels in the works. Yes, sequels.

The card at the bottom here is a Plane card, for exclusive use in the Planechase format.

Gate Crashers

After the rather embarrassing incident in the bath, Twilight had quickly been escorted by the Night Guard to Canterlot Palace’s guest chambers, where she spent the remainder of the night. The room was a nice balance between fancy and simple, a round chamber with a single small bed and a few pleasant furnishings. The room looked familiar, and a quick glance at the desk showed her a music box with a white porcelain statue in the shape of a ballerina pony. She realized that she’d been there before, just not in her own body.

Of course, just because the bedroom was comfortable doesn’t mean she could sleep in it. She’d returned to Equestria, just like she’d wanted, yet she couldn’t even bring herself close to rest. Her stomach twisted itself into a knot as she flopped about in her bed, trying desperately to identify the emotions weighing heavily on her chest. Nervousness? Excitement? Something in between? Pinkie would probably have a word for it.

She wasn’t even aware of how long she’d been lying there when an unmistakable magic tickled against her horn. She turned to the window to see the sun slowly creeping above the horizon, shedding its golden light onto the countryside. If the sun was rising, then that could only mean one thing.

Twilight bolted out of the bed and scurried out the door, not even feeling the slightest bit tired from her lack of rest. Everything else she could have possibly thought about was unimportant to her in that moment. Her path led her through the familiar halls of the castle, up the stairs of its largest tower, and to a pair of double-doors that she’d seen countless times in her youth. She ignored the shouts of the guards as she nearly bowled them over, pushing past the doors, through the bedroom, and into the balcony beyond. There, standing with graceful poise, was the Diarch of the Sun herself.

“Princess Celestia!” Twilight’s cry was equal parts greeting and warning, as she promptly charged towards the elder princess, forelegs wrapping across her chest in a gesture that was at once a tackle and a hug.

“Twilight!” Fortunately, Celestia herself was sturdy enough to withstand any force Twilight could have brought with her body. Unmoved by the impact, she leaned into the gesture and returned with a hug of her own, tightly wrapping her left foreleg around her former student.

Tears flowed in rivulets from Twilight’s eyes, running into Celestia’s coat as she felt her warmth seep into every crevasse of her body. There were so many things that she could say in that moment, so many things she wanted to say, but nothing could make its way far enough to reach her voice. She settled for remaining in Celestia’s embrace, letting her raw emotions speak for her.

To Twilight’s surprise, she’d begun feeling a pattering of water against her back. She pulled away from the hug to see Celestia crying as well, her face a swirling clash of joy, regret, and sadness.

“Princess?” said Twilight. “Is something wrong?”

Celestia smiled, wiping a tear from her eye with a wing. “I... No. Nothing is wrong. I’m so happy that you’re here. I was terrified that I might never see you again. I just...” Celestia let out a sigh. For a brief moment, a look of apprehension passed across her features. “While you were away, I had feared that it was my fault you had left. For as long as I’ve known you, I’d felt terrible about withholding the truth. If I had only told you of your planeswalker spark...”

“What? No! That’s not true!” Twilight hastily interjected. “It’s not your fault, Princess Celestia! I was reckless! I... I just wanted to prove you had nothing to fear! I’d wanted to show you I could handle myself, but I’d just ended up charging headfirst into danger! Please, don’t blame yourself!”

“Even still,” Celestia replied, “perhaps you would have been better prepared if you had known about your own abilities from the beginning. I am sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay, Princess,” Twilight reassured. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I left so suddenly. I didn’t stop to think how much I must have scared you.”

Celestia said nothing, instead craning her neck downwards, a gesture that Twilight had understood from the very day she was born. She responded in kind, and the two nuzzled each other closely, sharing a bond that ran far deeper than any mere mentor and student. In moments like these, Twilight was reminded of what Celestia really was. Not just a princess or a teacher, but family.

“It seems you have both learned something important today,” a voice called from the door to the balcony. “I expect you two will write me a friendship letter by the end of the week.”

Twilight pulled away, turning towards the new voice in bewilderment. Blood rushed to her face as she saw who it belonged to. “Eep! P-Princess Luna!”

Luna tilted her head to the side slightly. “You’re not laughing. Was my joke not funny?”

An image of Princess Luna from just the night before, in a very private moment, came to the forefront of Twilight’s mind. “U-um, well...”

Celestia coughed. “I believe I have matters to attend to in my court soon. I’ll be heading down for breakfast.”

Luna nodded. “Of course. Fare thee well, sister. Er, fare you well.”

Celestia smiled, then turned around and stepped past Luna, through her room and into the hall beyond. Twilight’s eyes darted about as she found herself alone with Luna, too embarrassed to look her in the eye.

“Um... Sorry about last night,” was the only thing she could bring herself to say.

Luna was taken aback, looking as though she’d only just remembered what had happened. A luminescent blush crossed her muzzle. “Ah. Right. That. Well, I’ve no reason to remain angry at you, given the apparent fact that it was an accident. But might I make a recommendation?”

“Go right ahead,” said Twilight.

“I would highly recommend you learn to control where you’re planeswalking to,” Luna replied. “If you had appeared while I was with one of my guards, I doubt I would have been so quick to forgive.”

“Wait, your guards? What about them?” Gears turned in Twilight’s mind for a moment, until they suddenly and forcefully snapped into place. “Ew! Luna!”

“I-I would implore you not to read too much into my previous statement,” said Luna, the blush on her face deepening further. “Though I wouldn’t say it’s too much of a secret among the staff.”

Twilight stared slack-jawed at the Lunar Diarch. She absolutely did not need to hear that.

“D-did I say that last part out loud?” Luna stammered. “I... I must go! My people need me!”

Luna’s horn glowed, and she disappeared in a flash of light. As Twilight stood on the now-empty balcony, she wished she had some bleach to clean out her thoughts.

————————

Despite Twilight’s position, riding on a personal airborne chariot was still a rare privilege for her. In some sense it was unnecessary, given her own abilities, but she still enjoyed getting a chance to truly relax as she watched the scenery fly by. She’d felt bad that the pegasus guards pulling the chariot wouldn’t get the same opportunity, but for their part they didn’t seem to mind.

The chariot eventually touched down just in front of Twilight’s castle, where six familiar ponies and one familiar dragon gathered, eagerly awaiting her arrival. The moment Twilight stepped out of the vehicle, she was immediately tackled by a very large mass of pink.

“Twilight! Ohmigosh! You’re okay!”

The legs wrapping around Twilight squeezed her so hard that it forced a breath out of her chest, yet despite the sudden intrusion of her personal space she couldn’t help but smile. “Glad to see you too, Pinkie. Could you maybe not squeeze so tight?”

“Oops, sorry!” Pinkie pulled away, never once losing the bounce in her stride. Twilight turned to face the rest of her friends. Seeing the joy written on their faces was more valuable to her than all of the books in the world. That feeling turned bittersweet when she thought of how hurt they must have been when she disappeared.

“I’m sorry for abandoning you all,” said Twilight. “I hope I didn’t worry everypony too much.”

“Shucks, Twilight, you don’t need to apologize to us,” said Applejack. “So long as you’re back in one piece, Ah reckon that’s all that matters.”

“Not to mention you got to learn new things about an entirely different universe,” Spike added. “Sounds like a win-win situation if you ask me!”

“Yeah! And you must have had all kinds of awesome adventures!” said Rainbow Dash. “You’ve gotta tell us about them sometime!”

Warmth began swelling up deep within Twilight’s chest, a simple yet powerful feeling that grew stronger by the moment. Without even thinking, she reached out, and she and her friends had all joined together in a massive group hug.

“It’s good to be back,” said Twilight.

————————

Twilight had spent the next several hours getting some much-needed rest. The past two days, paired with her lack of sleep the previous night, had left her thoroughly exhausted. She’d lightly dozed away in her own bedroom, not deeply enough to be fully asleep, but enough to help regain her energy.

A sudden knocking on her door forced her eyes open, and she slowly sat upright in her bed.

“Come in!” Twilight said through a yawn.

The door slowly opened, and Starlight Glimmer trotted in. “Feeling well rested?” she said.

“More or less,” said Twilight. “I think I’m good for now.” She untangled herself from the sheets and climbed onto the floor. As she did, Starlight’s face twisted into a curious expression.

“Wait, what happened to your tail?”

“Huh?” said Twilight. She turned back and saw the uncomfortably naked appendage extending from the base of her spine. “Oh, shoot! The illusion must have worn off. Here, let me fix that.” A simple spell, and her tail appeared just as new.

“Wow,” said Starlight. “That’s a pretty convincing illusion. Where’d you learn that?”

Twilight grinned. “You could say a friend helped me out.”

“New friend, huh?” said Starlight. “You’ll have to tell me more after we head downstairs. Spike says dinner’s just about ready.”

“Dinner sounds good, thanks,” said Twilight. “Spike didn’t burn anything this time, did he?”

“What? Oh, no, no, no! It’s totally fine!” Starlight hastily replied. “He’s, um... gotten better at cooking, I promise. Just come down and see for yourself.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. There was something slightly off about Starlight’s response. Whatever it was, she decided it wasn’t important, and followed Starlight down to the first floor. As she walked along, Twilight noticed that the path they were taking wasn’t quite right.

“Starlight, where are you going? This isn’t the way to the dining room.”

Starlight paused in her tracks. She turned around, a bead of sweat beginning to form on her forehead. “Oh, um... We’ll be eating in the ballroom, actually.”

“The ballroom?” said Twilight. “Why?”

Starlight laughed nervously. “Just... for a change of pace, you know? Come on then, we don’t want to keep Spike waiting!”

Twilight made a shrugging gesture with her wings, and then followed Starlight further into the crystalline halls. As they approached the massive double-doors, Starlight stood by the door and gestured to Twilight.

“After you,” said Starlight.

Twilight gripped the left door handle in her telekinetic grasp, and pushed the door open. “Thanks Starlight, but you really don’t have to—”

“SURPRISE! Welcome back, Princess Twilight!”

Twilight jumped back at the cacophony of voices shouting in unison. Before her, the ballroom was filled to the brim with vast multitudes of ponies, enough that she could imagine the entire population of Ponyville being there. Refreshments and hors d'oeuvres were lined up among rows of tables, and dozens upon dozens multicolored balloons floated above the room. Hanging across the ceiling was a large white banner, with ‘Welcome Home, Twilight!’ written in bright, bold purple letters.

In hindsight, Twilight realized that she probably should have seen this coming.

Pinkie Pie hurried up to Twilight with her trademark bounce, sporting her even-more-trademark grin. “Well, what do you think? Isn’t it just amazing? It was really, really, super hard getting this all set up on such short notice, but I did it just in time!”

Twilight chuckled inwardly, and shook her head. “Pinkie, you really didn’t have to do this all just for me.”

Pinkie giggle-snorted. “Of course I did, silly! Now how about you go up on stage and give your speech?”

Twilight blinked. “Wait, speech?”

“Well yeah,” said Pinkie. “You can’t just disappear off the face of this whole plane of existence for two days and not give any explanation, right? And don’t worry about telling them about all the planeswalker stuff. Just come up with a cover story! It’ll be easy!” She gave Twilight what was probably supposed to be a reassuring nudge on the shoulder, but hit just a little bit too hard for comfort. Pinkie didn’t always seem to be entirely aware of her own strength.

“R-right. Speech. Of course.” As Pinkie bounced away, Twilight looked around the room. With so many ponies gathered, there was no way she could feasibly escape from the situation. She was a princess, after all, and the role came with plenty of social expectations.

Twilight let out a sigh. She supposed she would have to explain her absence, sooner or later. A simple flap of her wings, and she flew over to the stage, standing before the gathered crowd. Her eyes darted around the room, and she grabbed a glass and fork from distant table, levitating them both towards her.

Clearing her throat, Twilight gently tapped the fork against the glass. “If I could have everypony’s attention please!” All at once, the room went quiet, and all other eyes fell on her. “Now, you all may be wondering where I’ve been for the past two days...”

Her words trailed off when she noticed something unusual standing amid the crowd. Both of the Royal Sisters were present, something which was itself mildly unconventional, as they normally only appeared at her castle for extra-special occasions. But they weren’t the ones her attention was focused on. Her attention was focused on another group that stood near the back of the ballroom, away from the others. Five hooved, quadrupedal figures, entirely unfamiliar in their forms, yet all of which held an unmistakable appearance.

Twilight couldn’t believe her eyes. Somehow, the Gatewatch had followed her back to Equestria.

First among them was Jace, a pegasus with a sky-blue coat and ruffled black mane, his face and body etched with the same glowing lines they had before. Draped over the front half of his body was the same blue robe with the hood pulled back, though an extra pair of holes had seemingly been placed in the back to accommodate his new wings. The robe had stopped just short enough of his abdomen to reveal his cutie mark, a drop of water with a single band of mysterious white glyphs encircling it.

Chandra had been turned into a pegasus as well, her eggshell-white coat matching her long red mane surprisingly well. She wore the same goggles as always, as well as the same red armor on her chest, though it too had been modified to accommodate her wings. Her cutie mark was a single upraised human fist, with a deep crimson fireball circling around it in a clockwise direction.

Gideon was a massive earth pony, even larger than Big Macintosh, so large that he looked like he could pull a mile-long freight train all by himself. His coat was a sandy tan that complemented his greasy chocolate-brown mane and shaggy fetlocks, and his torso was covered in the same shining chestplate that he wore as a human. His cutie mark was a large, gleaming silver shield with a stylized orange-and-yellow sun on the front. To Twilight’s utter disbelief, it was the exact same sun that adorned Princess Celestia’s flank.

Nissa, oddly, didn’t look to be a pony at all, but had instead transformed into a deer with pine green fur. Her body was small, thin, and wiry; it appeared almost fragile. Yet Twilight could tell even at first glance that this appearance was deceptive, as her eyes remained bright chartreuse and pupilless, glowing with an inner strength that seemed truly insurmountable. Unusually for a deer, she had a cutie mark, a sturdy-looking tree with vines creeping up the trunk and multicolored flowers adorning its leaves. While all the other members of the Gatewatch wore some kind of clothing in their new forms, Nissa’s body was completely bare.

Lastly, there was Liliana, the only unicorn of the group. Her body was taller and more slender than most ponies, her elongated legs giving her the appearance of a graceful stride even as she stood still. Yet even despite her elegant look, there was an undeniable air of danger to her, made all the more clear by an unusually long and curved horn that looked like it could have been used to impale someone. Her coat was ash-grey and her mane so black that it seemed to suck the light out of the room, the only hint of color to it being her usual golden headgear that curved like a demon’s horns. Her body was covered in a fancy purple dress made of silk, paired with knee-high black boots on all four of her legs. Though Twilight couldn’t see the cutie mark behind the dress, she couldn’t help but shudder internally at the thought of what it could be. Probably something like a human skull wrapped in a tendril of pure darkness.

In her stunned silence, Twilight hadn’t noticed that the rest of the crowd was growing ever more restless. Their eyes pierced straight through her, awaiting her to continue her statement. “Oh, right! Sorry! As I was saying, you may have all been wondering where I’ve been for the past two days. The truth is...”

Twilight paused. She hadn’t even bothered to think of a cover story yet. But what could she say? What excuse could she give? What explanation could she offer that wouldn’t immediately raise suspicion? All important questions, but there was one that loomed tall above all of the others, so much that it totally eclipsed them in importance.

Did she want to give a cover story?

If Twilight had known about planeswalkers before, she could have been so much better prepared. She was thrust into a wider multiverse with barely any idea of what to expect, or of what to do. And though planeswalkers were extraordinarily uncommon, there would no doubt come a day when another planeswalker in Equestria ascended, and they would be left even more poorly prepared than her. She couldn’t let that happen to another pony. She couldn’t let them face a potentially hostile world completely alone.

“...The truth is, I’m not like most ponies,” said Twilight. Dozens upon dozens of strange looks were levied at her, but she abruptly cut them off with a raised hoof. “And I don’t mean that I’m an alicorn. I was different from other ponies before I’d ever earned my wings. The truth is... I’m a planeswalker.”

The crowd broke out into a cacophony of confused murmurs and bewildered mutterings. Those of them that already knew of Twilight’s true nature, meanwhile, looked utterly shocked that she’d divulge such a secret.

Twilight tapped the glass and fork together, more loudly this time, and the room once again fell silent. “Now, most of you probably don’t know what a planeswalker is. To put it simply, it means that from a very young age I possessed a rare gift: the ability to travel between planes of existence. For most of my life I hadn’t known of such an ability, until I’d learned of it two days ago.”

The crowd began chattering to themselves even louder, threatening to drown out any other noise that could be heard. A slight bubble of annoyance began to form in Twilght’s chest, yet she restrained herself enough to not chastise the entire town of Ponyville at once. A simple ‘a-hem’ was enough to return their attention to her.

“...As you can imagine, when I learned I had such a power, I ended up in a plane beyond my understanding. I was lost, frightened, and left all alone to fend for myself in a seemingly hostile world. But I learned that, even when it seems like there’s not a soul alive that can help you, you’ll always be able to find friends who are willing to look after you. Everypony, I’d like to introduce you to my friends, the Gatewatch.” Twilight gestured to the back of the room, and all at once the crowd turned their eyes towards the strange new visitors from outside the plane.

“Gah!” Chandra cried out. “Twilight, what do you think you’re doing!? We were trying to be inconspicuous! Jace threw up a perception thingy and everything!”

Despite the range of confused and horrified looks crossing his companions’ faces, Gideon let out a laugh. It was a deep, reverberating belly-laugh, filled with so much mirth that it nearly brought tears to his eyes.

“Well! So much for that, then!” said Gideon. “Might as well make the best of our new situation, wouldn’t you agree?”

Nissa shifted uncomfortably. “Um, Gideon?”

“Yes?” said Gideon. “What is it?”

Nissa looked ahead, pointing with a cloven hoof. “That.”

Right in the space where Nissa was pointing, Princess Celestia had approached, staring down at the five planeswalkers with narrowed eyes. Her normally relaxed posture had snapped into a rigid straightness, towering above everything else, like an obelisk of raw power piercing the sky.

“So you would all be planeswalkers, then?” Celestia’s voice was quiet, yet it the words it carried were loud enough to drown out all other sound. “And you had taken Twilight under your care?”

Jace and Nissa both looked apprehensive, while Chandra was almost trembling in place, despite her obvious efforts to look unafraid. Liliana stared back defiantly, her lips twisted into a sneer.

Gideon, however, did not seem perturbed in the slightest. Rather, he almost immediately dropped into a bow, a universal gesture of reverence. “Indeed we are. I am honored to be in your presence, Celestia.”

Celestia’s imposing demeanor faltered, if only for a moment. “You know my name?”

Gideon lifted his head, just enough to meet Celestia’s eyes. “Of course. Twilight had mentioned you in passing before. From the way she spoke your name, I knew who you were the moment you approached us.”

Celestia’s face remained unreadable. “I see. In that case, I would like to know the names of you and your companions.”

“I am Gideon Jura. The others you see here are Jace Beleren, Chandra Nalaar, Nissa Revane, and Liliana Vess.” He gestured to each of the other members of the Gatewatch as he introduced them. “We are known as the Gatewatch, and it is our sworn duty to protect the multiverse.”

Celestia’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Very well, Gatewatch. Now that you are in my domain, there is something that I must tell you. For many centuries, I have watched over this plane, remaining vigilant against any outsiders that may threaten it. I have dedicated nearly all of my power to protecting my little ponies, and I am willing to make any sacrifice I have to in order to preserve their safety. That being said, however...”

Then, to everyone’s surprise, Celestia immediately dropped down, returning Gideon’s gesture with a deep bow of her own. “...you all have my deepest gratitude. For looking after Twilight, and for ensuring her safe return.” As she stood herself back up to her full height, she shot the astonished Gatewatch a mischievous smirk. “Well, what are you waiting for? This is a celebration, isn’t it? Have fun!”

As Celestia walked away, Gideon turned towards his companions, meeting their baffled faces with a grin. “You heard her. Let’s go out there and enjoy ourselves!”

————————

Concord Celebration 3W

Enchantment — Aura

Enchant land

Whenever enchanted land is tapped for mana, its controller creates a 1/1 white Horse creature token.

In times of peace, the ponies of Equestria flock to celebrations of harmony and friendship.

Author's Note

This chapter was initially intended to be the last one before the epilogue, but I waaaay underestimated the writing I would have to do to finish the story. As a result, this chapter is actually the first half of the original pre-epilogue ending chapter. That said, you can expect the story to be finished very soon.

Oath of Twilight

NOTE: This chapter contains a reference to attempted suicide.

————————

Okay, Chandra. Let’s review. Twilight left without saying goodbye, which I guess I can forgive, since she probably had friends back here she wanted to see right away. That’s fine. Then Jace leads us here to go after her and pay her a visit. That’s also fine.

But then I get turned into some kind of friggin’ pony of all things, and the next thing I know we’re all heading towards this massive castle where, if the other ponies are to be believed, Twilight lives. Then when we arrived, some big-ass horse that could only have been some kind of god starts pranking on us? Am I dreaming? Did that really just happen?

Ugh, whatever. I don’t really want to think too hard about it. This is a nice castle, I’ll give it that. It’s all weird and crystal-ish and kind of hurts my eyes if I stare too much in one place, but it’s really pretty. And I’m not even the kind of pony that calls things ‘pretty,’ that’s how nice it looks.

Wait, did I just call myself a pony? Shit. This plane is already rubbing off on me. I hope it isn’t permanent.

I walk across the crowd, ignoring the strange looks all these other ponies are giving me. They don’t seem to want to get too close, which I guess makes sense. I imagine introducing myself to them after that incident with Celestia would get awkward. Still, it kind of stings to be treated like some kind of outsider. I usually am, but it’s never felt so blatant. I let out a sigh, already feeling an unpleasant tension building up inside of me.

You know what would feel great right about now? A drink, that’s what.

My eyes scan the ballroom, and I look for anything that might be remotely alcoholic. At first, it doesn’t seem like there’s anything, but then I see a metal tub of ice on the floor, packed with glass bottles.

Bingo. A grin spreads across my muzzle—I mean my face, dammit—as I approach. Getting used to walking on four legs is a lot easier than I thought it’d be at first, but it probably helps that I’m not thinking about it too hard. That’d probably explain why Jace had the hardest time learning to walk like this, now that I mention it. He can’t not think about things too hard.

The bottles all have plain green labels with a picture of a red apple on them. Judging from the brown liquid inside of them, they must be some kind of hard cider. I reach out with a hoof and rest it against one the bottles, and, uh...

Um...

...Well, crap. How the hell am I supposed to grab things without fingers?

No. I won’t give up that easily. Trying to flex muscles that aren’t there, I root around in the bucket, desperately hoping that my hoof will somehow grab something. After what feels like an eternity, I finally seem to be able to get a grip. As I pull my arm (leg?) out, I see that the bottle is somehow stuck to the end of my hoof, as though it were some sort of cider-magnet or something.

“Yes! I did it!” I cheer, making a hoof-pumping motion. My victory gesture is short-lived, as a moment later I feel the bottle fall out of my grasp, and hear the sound of shattering glass. I look to the ground, and my heart drops into the pit of my stomach.

My drink is gone, the glass broken into pieces, the liquid lying in a puddle on the floor. All that effort spent just learning how to pick a damn bottle up, and it was all for nothing. My muscles tense, and I can feel the anger building up inside of me, heating up until my veins threaten to boil over.

“Aaaaaaaarrrgh!”

Screaming is always a good stress reliever, and for a moment I’m just glad to be able to let off all of that frustration at once. The smell of smoke coming from my mane, combined with the frightened stares these ponies give me, quickly make me realize that was a mistake.

I slap my palm against my forehead. “Great going, Chandra, now everyone thinks you’re a freak,” I mutter.

...Wait, my palm?

My suspicion that something isn’t quite right is confirmed when I open my eyes, and see that the thing on my forehead isn’t a palm at all, but one of my wings. Looking at it now, it feels... hand-like. I flex the muscles in my wing, and stare at the pinions as they wiggle themselves around with the same ease and dexterity of human fingers.

“Huh. Okay, that works.”

Going from there is easy. I almost effortlessly reach out and grab another bottle in my wing, and then twist off the cap in the other wing. I don’t want to litter any more than I already have, so I flip the cap into a garbage can several yards away.

...Wow, these wings are really useful.

As I bring the lip of the bottle to my mouth, I’m almost shocked by how intense the flavor is. I’d expected even the hardest cider to be sweet, obviously, but this is just... I don’t even know how to describe how sweet it is. It’s damn near overpowering, that’s what it is. One thing’s for sure though, it can’t be more than barely alcoholic. Don’t these ponies know how to make a real drink? It’s not alcohol unless it makes your entire digestive tract feel like it’s on fire.

Despite this, the rest of the cider goes down smoothly. It’s actually quite good, now that I get a chance to taste more of it. Still ridiculously sweet, but there’s a bit of a nice tangy flavor to it that you don’t really get with other drinks.

I toss the now-empty bottle into a trash can. It’s then that my entire field of vision is covered by the single pinkest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

“Hi! I’m Pinkie Pie!”

“Great fire beasts of Regatha!” I shriek. “Don’t startle me like that! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Gotcha. Won’t happen again!” There’s something weird about this pony, and it isn’t just her failure to understand the concept of personal space. Or the fact that she appeared right the hell out of nowhere. “So, how do you like the party?”

“Its, uh, great,” I say. I get the feeling that I probably shouldn’t admit that I’m not having a lot of fun.

“Glad to hear!” Pinkie replies. “I hope you have a super-duper amazing first day here in Equestria! If you need anything, just let me know!”

Somehow, I manage to crack a smile. She’s a very cheerful pony, I’ll give her that. Looking at her more closely, I can see it reflected in almost every part of her body. The impossibly bright coat, the poofy hair, even the weird balloon pictures on the side of her body. Didn’t Twilight say something about those?

“Actually, now that you mention it, there’s something I’ve been wondering about.” I point to the image on my flank. “I’ve had this thing since I came here, but I’ve no idea what it means. Twilight called hers a ‘cutie mark.’ What’s with that?”

The way that Pinkie giggles at me is almost sickeningly adorable. “It’s a symbol of your special talent! I got mine when I learned I was good at making other ponies smile. So, what’s yours about?”

“Special talent, huh?” I reply. “Well, that’s pretty easy. I’m a pyromancer.”

All at once, Pinkie’s body freezes. Somehow, her face manages to turn even more pink than usual. How is that even possible?

“Oh, um... Gosh. I’m flattered, but no thank you!”

‘No thank you?’ What is she even—

Oh. Oh, no. Oh, hell no. I’m nowhere near drunk enough for that.

“That’s not what I meant! It means I’m good with fire magic!”

Pinkie’s eyes widen in realization. “Oooooooh,” she says. “Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

Sigh. I think I’m going to need some more cider for this.

————————

Liliana wasn’t sure why she’d agreed to this. Less than an hour in, and she already hated this plane.

It wasn’t just the fact that she had found herself in an unfamiliar body. It wasn’t just the fact that everything was so disgustingly bright and cheerful. It wasn’t even the fact that its apparent guardian deity reminded her so much of an angel.

No, worst of all was the fact that, for the plane’s absolute abundance of magic, there was so little of it that she could actually use. Sure, the black mana was there. With extremely rare exception, all worlds had enough of it to draw from. Yet here, despite the quite respectable amount there was, it was massively drowned out by mana that she had no interest in ever harnessing.

Of course, her senses could have been thrown off by the castle she was standing in. The crystalline palace was a powerful nexus of all possible types of mana, but what types she would find there was hardly relevant. The moment she stepped inside, she was struck with an absolute certainty that she wasn’t welcome. It felt like the building not only had a will of its own, but was actively working against her own power. Worse yet, she couldn’t feel the Chain Veil’s magic within the castle walls, despite knowing it was still in her pocket.

She’d made an attempt to quietly slip away, hoping to exit the palace and planeswalk back to Ravnica at the first opportunity. But her magical senses, heightened by her newly-grown horn, alerted her to something interesting.

Most of the ponies didn’t seem to have an affinity for black mana, but three in particular had noticeable amounts of it surrounding them. One of them, a bright pink mare conversing with Chandra, had equal parts red and black. A pegasus with an impossibly multicolored mane had smidgens of black, though it was mostly red and white. But most intriguingly of all was the white unicorn with a purple mane. The black mana surrounding her was only secondary to red and blue, but there was something else about her... something truly fascinating.

Liliana casually sauntered over to the white mare, hoping to get a closer look. As she did, the other unicorn took notice almost immediately, her eyes suddenly brightening.

“Goodness, darling! Your dress is absolutely exquisite! You must tell me who your tailor is!”

Liliana smirked. She glanced up and down, sizing up the white unicorn. “That would be a secret, I’m afraid. Not that you’d be able to find my tailor regardless.”

“Right, of course. I’d almost forgotten you were a planeswalker. In any case, I’m always glad to meet another friend of Twilight’s. If I heard correctly, your name was Liliana?”

“That I am,” Liliana replied. It was unmistakable now, the aura of undeath. “And to whom to I owe the pleasure?”

“You can call me Rarity, dear,” she replied. “If you’re ever in Equestria, be sure to stop by the Carousel Boutique. I’m sure I would be able to craft an outfit fitting for a pony of your stature.”

Though her expression remained unchanged, in her own mind Liliana was rolling her eyes. Like she would ever pay for a dress. People who had things she wanted didn’t usually live long enough to sell them.

“I see,” said Liliana. “And how long have you been in the tailoring business? Years? Decades? Centuries, perhaps?”

Rarity’s mouth opened, then closed again. “Centuries? I-I don’t know where you’d be getting that idea. There’s just no possible way I could live for that long...”

“Isn’t there?” Liliana pressed. “Because I know a thing or two about death, darling. And I know that there are quite a few ways of cheating it. There’s no need to be so coy with me, not when I can see you for what you really are.”

Rarity’s eyes went wide, and her mouth hung open in horror. For a split second, Liliana could seeher glamour fail. There, hanging just below her upper lip, was a pair of gleaming, pointed fangs.

“How?” Rarity whispered. “How did you know?”

Liliana stepped forward, her eyes gleaming like a predator approaching a cornered animal. “I know quite a few things. And just looking at you, I can tell you’re quite the successful entrepreneur. So why don’t we make a deal? You give me some of your gold, and I won’t spill your secret to everyone in town.”

Rarity’s entire body trembled. “W-what? B-but—”

“It’s alright if you don’t have the money right now,” said Liliana. “I’ll be sure to stop by your little boutique after the party. And don’t think to try anything sneaky, because I’ll know.”

The fear never died from Rarity’s eyes, but slowly it began to blend in with the anger that bubbled its way to her surface. “I... I don’t believe this,” she hissed, quietly enough that only Liliana hear her. “How could a pony like you possibly be one of Twilight’s friends?”

Liliana walked away, turning around to face Rarity over her shoulder. “I don’t have friends. Only useful idiots.”

Truth be told, she didn’t even want the money. She just liked seeing Rarity squirm.

————————

Gideon had found himself mingling with the other ponies much faster than he anticipated. Sure, most were put off at first by... well, just about everything about him, but they quickly grew to appreciate his presence. Currently, he was lifting a tower of five different ponies onto his back, not even breaking a sweat as a sixth began climbing up. The last pony, a mint-colored unicorn mare, eventually tripped over the body of her ‘best friend’ (Gideon noted that they were much closer than ‘friends’ normally were), sending the entire tower crashing down into a heap just beside him.

“Is everyone alright?” Gideon called out. “Do any of you need medical attention?”

The six-pony-pile separated, sharing a series of looks as they climbed back onto their hooves.

“Nope! Looks like we’re all good,” said the mint unicorn. “Trust me, we ponies are tough. It’ll take a heckuva lot more than that to hurt us.”

Gideon nodded. “As I thought,” he said. “I’ve felt my strength increase significantly since I acquired this new body. Quite the accomplishment, as I wasn’t too feeble to begin with.”

The mint unicorn leaned in closer, grinning madly. “Tell me more about your old body!”

“Ah,” said Gideon. “Well, I believe I’ve already told you as much as I can without going into, er, private matters.”

“I know!” the unicorn squealed. “Private matters are the best matters!”

Somewhat perplexingly, the unicorn’s ‘friend’ managed to grab her ear with a hoof. “We should go.”

“What? But I was just—”

“Now, Lyra.”

“Aww, fine,” Lyra said. Her grin returned in full force as she was quite literally pulled away. “Bye! I hope I see you again sometime! I can’t wait to learn more about you!”

Gideon chuckled to himself. Lyra was eccentric, to say the least. A tingle of powerful magic alerted him to another presence, and he turned himself around to see one of the only ponies that was bigger than him.

She was... breathtaking. Awe-inspiring in much the same way that Celestia was, yet her aura was different. While the apparent Solar Deity’s aura was overwhelmingly bright and blindingly powerful, hers was soft and soothing, glowing faintly with the gentle light of midnight stars. It was as though she were not merely a god, but something even more ethereal and sublime. Gideon couldn’t shake the feeling that he was staring directly at Nyx itself. No, Nyx herself.

“Please,” said the Deity of the Night, “there is no need for such formalities. You may rise.”

Gideon hadn’t even realized he had bowed. It was instinctive, a reflex. He picked himself up and looked in the pony-god’s direction, though he dared not think himself worthy of making direct eye contact.

“I am honored to be graced by your presence. If you may be kind enough to answer, what should I call you?”

To his surprise, the god he spoke to looked vaguely uncomfortable. “I... I already told you, there is no need for such formality. You’ve already spoken the the same words to my sister, besides.” Her mouth curled upward into a warm smile. “But as for your question, you may call me Princess Luna.”

Gideon blinked. “A princess? How curious. To see the gods of this realm walk among mortals is one thing, but for them to adopt the titles of mortals is another entirely.”

All at once, everything went quiet. Every pony around had frozen in place, staring in utter disbelief. But of them all the most shocked and seemingly appalled was Luna, each of her eyes going as wide as the moon itself.

“W-what did you call me?”

Gideon winced. He suddenly had a feeling that he had made a grave mistake, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was. “My apologies. The only power I have felt like yours was from the gods of my world. I had assumed—”

“No! You mustn’t!” Luna’s feathers visibly ruffled during her outburst, and every one of her features was stretched into barely-contained panic.

Gideon flinched, as though anticipating to be struck down where he stood. He dared not speak a single word in response.

Luna sighed. “I... I am sorry. You must understand, my sister and I have spent a great amount of effort disavowing any notion that we are divine. We cannot afford to position ourselves as gods, lest we become distant from the very ponies we care for.” Her head bowed slightly, and lines of deep sorrow appeared just beneath her eyes. “Believe me. I would know.”

“Ah,” said Gideon. What Luna had said was an entirely foreign concept, yet somehow it all made sense. “If it’s any consolation, Your Highness, I’ve never heard of a true god denying their own worship. Perhaps I was mistaken about you after all.”

“It’s all right,” said Luna. There was something reassuring about her smile, and seeing it made Gideon feel safer than he was behind any form of defensive magic. “But there’s also the matter of why I came to you. I’m curious to learn more about your cutie mark.”

“My... cutie mark?” Gideon’s head turned around to face the symbol at his side. “I assume you mean this symbol that appeared on my body. I believe Twilight had mentioned it before.”

“That’s correct,” said Luna. “A cutie mark is a symbol of a pony’s unique talent, and their true calling in life. Mine represents my connection to the moon of this world, and my affinity for dreams and shadows. What intrigues me about yours is its remarkable similarity to my sister’s.”

“My talent, eh?” Gideon scratched his chin with a hoof, then turned to meet Luna’s smile with one of his own. “That would no doubt be my skill with hieromancy.”

“Hieromancy?” said Luna.

“Law magic,” Gideon clarified. “In my home plane of Theros, such magic was gifted to humankind by Heliod, the God of the Sun. So long as I am channeling that power, there is no force in the multiverse that can harm my body.”

Luna’s eyes twinkled gently. “So your power comes from solar magic. That would partly explain the similarity, I suppose. Would you care to demonstrate?”

“Certainly,” Gideon replied. “Though I’ll admit, I won’t be able to show you my full capabilities here. To prove the extent of my durability would require a truly earth-shattering assault.”

Luna opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by another voice. A young filly’s voice, to be specific, joined by the voices of two others.

“Thrust Steelflank!”

“Blast Hardknee!”

“Buck Rockgroin!”

“Splint Stonehoof!”

“Volt Fetlocks!”

“Flash Sentry! Wait, no.”

“Buff Irontail!”

“Thick McGallop!”

“Smash Stormhaunch!”

“Hunk Beefslab!”

“Mark Rosewater!”

“Sweetie Belle...”

“Oops! Sorry!”

Luna nickered slightly, joined by a chuckle of Gideon’s own. “Seems you’ve made yourself a few admirers,” she said.

“That I have,” said Gideon. “It was a privilege getting a chance to know your plane for myself.”

And that was the truest thing Gideon could have said.

————————

Nissa didn’t know what to think. She’d call the feeling overwhelming, but that itself couldn’t do what she felt justice. Ravnica was overwhelming, but this... this was more than that. Orders of magnitude more than that.

The plane had far and away the most powerful mana she’d ever felt, powerful enough that even Zenidkar’s paled in comparison. Yet at the same time it felt... distant, somehow. The foundational leylines coursed through the deepest parts of the plane like great and powerful torrents, vast rivers that stretched as far as the eye can see. Only the smallest trickle reached the land itself, but even those tiny tributaries were flooded with so much raw power that it had Nissa had almost passed out from overstimulation when she arrived on the plane.

The distressing part, however, was that only those tiny tributaries reached the land. It was unthinkable. Nearly inconceivable. The life of a plane shouldn’t exist, couldn’t exist with so much of its essence deprived from itself. She could feel more of the world than she could recall feeling of any other: the land, the sea, the sky, and even the sun and moon. And yet, despite their seemingly limitless power, they had all felt drained. Like a body that had been robbed of its own lifeblood.

Just what had happened to this plane?

It was a question that she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to, yet she couldn’t begin to get it out of her mind. It occupied every space of her thoughts, completely drowning out all of her senses, blocking out everything else around her. Her head spun, and she staggered on her hooves briefly, before her legs finally gave out.

As the falling sensation continued, Nissa became vaguely aware that she should have already hit the ground. And yet, she hadn’t. She was still falling. Falling into the nothingness that beneath her, falling into the yawning void that had existed below the earth for two hundred millennia, into the maw hungrily waiting to swallow the entire world.

Except no, she wasn’t falling. Something, someone had caught her. Her eyes slowly opened, and she found herself in the awaiting arms of a bright yellow pegasus, her wings gently fluttering to support her impromptu bipedal stance.

“Oh, goodness!” she said. “Are you okay?” Her voice was soft and gentle, like the caress a mother baloth would give to her child.

Nissa didn’t answer. The question on her was more important than her own well-being. “How are you alive?”

The mare’s eyes widened, but her embrace grew no less soft. “Oh. Um... I’m not sure how to answer that. There are plenty of times I almost died. I’m still not sure how I always made it out in one piece.”

“Not you,” said Nissa. “The world. How does this world live? The land has no desire for growth, and the sky has no desire for wind or rain. Yet the world not only lives, but thrives. How is it possible?”

“Oh,” said the pegasus. “Um, w-well... Earth ponies use their magic to make sure the ground stays fertile. And pegasi like me create weather to make sure there’s enough to go around for everypony.” Streaks of worry crossed her muzzle. “Is... is there something wrong with that?”

And just then, everything made sense. In a world where nature itself had halted, its children had worked to creature nature of their own. It was unsettling. Disturbing. Almost horrifying. And yet, Nissa couldn’t bring herself blame them. There was simply no other way anything could live here.

“No,” said Nissa. “It’s... it’s nothing to worry about.” She slowly wriggled her way out of the mare’s hold, crawling back up on to her hooves.

“Oh! A-are you sure you should be walking? You don’t need to go to a hospital, do you?”

“I’m fine,” Nissa replied. It wasn’t an entirely true statement, but physically she was well enough. Under no circumstances would she allow works of medical artifice near her body. “My name is Nissa Revane. And... thank you.”

The yellow mare lowered herself onto her own hooves, her lips curving subtly upward. “It’s nice to meet you, Nissa. My name is Fluttershy.”

Silence. Nissa couldn’t think of a response. She simply gazed back, her deep, piercing eyes meeting Fluttershy’s own. She was astonished by the strength that was hidden beneath Fluttershy’s gaze: despite her fragile appearance, she almost looked like she could stare down an eldrazi all by herself.

A tension began building within Nissa’s chest, and she could see from Fluttershy’s shifting hooves that she was growing just as uncomfortable. She wanted to make friends, to connect with people, but standing there and saying nothing wouldn’t accomplish anything. What could she do?

Then, Nissa remembered something Chandra had told her about. ‘Small talk,’ it was called. The Joraga never spoke to each other when there was nothing of importance to be said; speaking for its own sake was a difficult concept to wrap her mind around. Yet here, the idea seemed almost enticing.

“So, um...” said Nissa. Think. She had to think of something. “Do you like... trees?”

To Nissa’s astonishment, Fluttershy actually reacted positively. She beamed so brightly that it was almost blinding, and squealed in excitement. “Ohmigosh, yes!”

Nissa sighed happily, letting all of the tension within her out at once. Maybe friendship wasn’t so hard after all.

————————

Ungula was a truly fascinating plane. Never before had Jace felt magic that was quite like it. Vibrant, powerful, yet at the same time so difficult to connect to. Could that difficulty in forming mana lines be what led the ponies to develop their own natural mana attractors in their bodies? What of their culture? How did his transformation into a pony work? So many questions, yet so little time to find answers.

He put his mind at ease as she approached Twilight, who was conversing with an orange pony in a strange brown hat.

Twilight’s eyes gleamed as he approached. “Jace! So glad to see you! Applejack, this is Jace. Jace, this is Applejack.”

“Charmed,” said Jace. He reached out with a hoof, trying to emulate a handshake. From what he’d seen, ponies of this world possessed some form of tactile telekinesis. He was eager to see how it worked for himself.

Applejack didn’t look to happy to meet Jace, unfortunately. Rather than returning the hoofshake, she simply snorted. “So Twilight tells me you’re some kind of illusionist. How do Ah know you ain’t gonna try to pull the wool over mah eyes?”

Twilight gasped. “Applejack! Don’t be rude!”

“Come on, Twi, you know Ah don’t trust folks who make a habit of deceiving other folk,” said Applejack. “It ain’t right.”

Twilight laughed nervously, and her eyes briefly darted to her own tail. “Um... yeah. Right.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m not offended,” Jace remarked. “I’ve spoken with myself before. I find me just as insufferable as you do.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “You trying to pull mah leg?”

Before Jace could reply, another voice called out, one that immediately reminded him of Chandra. Another Chandra. There was an unsettling thought.

“Applejack! We’re out of cider!”

“Nonsense, Rainbow!” Applejack called back. “Ah brought five whole tubs full! Even you couldn’t drink all of them bottles so fast!”

“I’m serious! Somepony drank all the cider! I didn’t even get to have any of it! Do something!”

Applejack’s eye twitched, if only slightly. “What!? Move over! Let me see!” She hastily trotted away, cursing beneath her breath.

Twilight rubbed her hoof against her leg. “So, how are you enjoying Equestria so far?”

“It’s certainly a unique experience,” said Jace. He briefly turned his head, motioning to his wings. “I’ll say, this took quite a bit of getting used to.”

Twilight’s eyes bugged out. “Wait, what? Are you saying that isn’t an illusion?”

“I’m afraid not,” Jace replied. “As soon as we arrived on this plane, we found that our bodies had transformed. What you’re looking at now is what I really look like. For now, I hope.”

Twilight’s mouth worked silently, trying to process the new information. “So it isn’t the Magic Mirror that transforms humans into ponies! Ohmigosh, do you know what this means!?”

Now Jace’s curiosity was really piqued. “Magic Mirror?”

“Long story. I’ll tell you later. But oh my gosh, this is an absolutely monumental discovery! This means there must be some kind of transformative magic that surrounds the plane itself! Oh, I can’t wait to do research on it!” Twilight finished her sentence with a girlish squeal, so overcome with excitement that her hooves actually began to dance in place. “Oh, and I almost forgot! There’s one more thing I wanted to ask you about. How exactly did you find me here?”

“Well, that’s easy,” said Jace. “When someone planeswalks, they leave behind a residual magic trail that lasts for a short time. Given your raw power, your trail lasted long enough for us to follow you well after you’d left.”

Twilight giggled. “Good thing I’m an alicorn, huh?”

“I was intending to ask you about that, actually,” said Jace. “I’d heard you mention Celestia before. From the way you used her name, I’d assumed she was some kind of god, yet her magic isn’t much different from yours. Can you explain?”

Twilight’s jaw dropped. “W-what? Oh, no! No, no, no, no, no! Princess Celestia’s not a god! That’s absurd! I-I mean, if she were a god, that would probably make me a god, and that’d just be ridiculous, right?” Twilight smiled uncomfortably, and her body almost seemed to shrink in place. “...Right?”

Jace smirked. “Well, you’re a lot more humble than a god would be, so I’ll take your word for it.”

It was then that a very fast, very loud white and red streak passed narrowly overhead.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO *hic* HOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Jace winced. “I think Chandra’s drunk. That’s... probably not good.”

Twilight brought a hoof to her face, and pushed her now-ruffled mane out of her eyes, which now appeared to be as wide as dinner plates. “Drunk? Are you saying she has even fewer inhibitions now?”

“If that’s possible,” said Jace.

“Hey!” Rainbow Dash’s voice called out from somewhere. “Are you nuts!? What hay do you think you’re doing!?”

“Flying, duh.”

“I know that! Look, I get it, flying’s awesome. But you can’t fly like that in here! You’ll end up breaking something!”

“Meh. I’ve broken lots of things. If something bad happens, Jace will pay damages.”

Jace’s head spun around immediately. “Now you wait just a minute!”

Regardless of what he said, the exchange continued as though he’d never spoken. Jace wasn’t sure what else he should have expected.

“You know, you’re starting to remind me of somepony I met at training camp. I don’t know about you, but I don’t think that’s a very good first impression!”

“You’re just jealous because I’m better at flying than you.”

“Buh... Wah... Better at—” Rainbow’s voice sputtered. “Oh, that is it! You are so going down!”

Jace cringed, sharing a look with Twilight. “Maybe we should intervene.”

Twilight let out an exasperated sigh. “Just leave it to me.” A single beat of her wings, and she had already taken to the air, flying up to meet the two pegasi. “Alright you two, knock it off!”

Jace could almost immediately feel a headache developing. Now he understood why Chandra kept asking him to cure her hangovers.

————————

Starlight Glimmer watched the scene above her with fascination, staring transfixed as the two bullheaded pegasi confronted each other. It was almost painful to see Twilight’s friends antagonizing each other, yet she couldn’t bring herself to look away. She was glad when Twilight finally showed up to separate them, all but forcing them to apologize.

Feeling a slight rumble in her tummy, she walked over to one of the catering tables and grabbed a snack, one of those light daisy sandwiches on thin bread with the little sticks holding them together. As she happily munched on the food and threw away the toothpick, she noticed another pony approaching her in her peripheral vision. She turned around and saw her visitor, a brown earth pony stallion with an hourglass cutie mark. He carried a spring in his step as he trotted, as well as a very eager grin.

“Oh, hello!” said Starlight. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, in fact. My name is Doctor Time Turner—the Doctor part is important, by the way—and I’ve been looking for somepony. Are you Starlight Glimmer, by any chance?”

“Uh-huh, that’s me,” said Starlight. A subtle apprehension crawled its way into her chest, but she wasn’t quite sure why. “Did you want to talk to me about something?”

“I do. You’re a clever mare, Starlight.” Somehow, despite Time Turner’s cheerful demeanor, the compliment didn’t sound entirely sincere. “And I’m a very busy stallion, so let’s not waste any more time, shall we?”

Time Turner cleared his throat, and then lightly tapped his hoof against the ground.

And then, Starlight Glimmer’s entire understanding of the world was broken into pieces.

It had started with a noise. A terrible, disgusting noise, a noise that made her feel sick to her stomach. And then, something that appeared at first to be a flash of light, until Starlight quickly realized it was actually a flash of reverse light. Then, finally, stillness. Complete and utter stillness, nothing in the entire universe moving except for herself and Time Turner.

“A... t-t-t-time stop spell!?” Starlight’s voice trembled uncontrollably, along with her entire body. “B-but... but... That’s impossible! Earth ponies can’t do that kind of magic! I can’t do that kind of magic! Stopping time isn’t even theoretically possible!”

Time Turner scowled fiercely. The friendly, affable pony he was just a moment before was all but gone, replaced the perfect image of barely-restrained rage. “Oh, I think I know a little bit more about time than you do, Starlight Glimmer. Much like your former teacher, I happen to be a planeswalker. I also happen to be the oldest pony living in Equestria. Yes, older than Celestia herself, if only slightly. But most importantly, I am the most powerful chronomancer you will meet in a hundred thousand of your lifetimes, and perhaps the single most powerful chronomancer currently in the multiverse. I know everything that there is to know about the metaphysical workings of time, inside and out. Now tell me, Starlight Glimmer, why do you think I am here?”

“B-because I changed the past?”

Starlight tried to back away as Time Turner stepped forward, but she couldn’t escape. Her legs were frozen to the ground, leaving her unable to move. The elder pressed his face against hers, literally breathing down her neck. His face was a grotesque visage of anger, backed by a power so vast she could barely even imagine its depths.

“No,” said Time Turner. “It’s not that you changed the past. No, what you did was far, far worse than that. You didn’t merely change the past, you prevented the very events that would allow for you to travel back in time to begin with. Do you understand what that does to the time stream, Starlight Glimmer? I’ll tell you. Each temporal paradox you create leaves behind a fundamental contradiction in the nature of causality itself. For each such contradiction, further and further strain is placed on the fabric of this plane, until it tears itself apart completely. No past, no present, no future. Nothing. You didn’t just nearly destroy Equestria, oh no. You nearly prevented this entire world from ever having existed. And for what? A grudge? Some petty revenge scheme over a failed attempt at social engineering? Do you think that would be worth it, Starlight Glimmer?”

Starlight broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. “N-no! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t know! P-please don’t hurt me!”

“Oh, I won’t hurt you, Starlight,” said Time Turner. “But there is something important I want to ask of you. I want you to consider yourself lucky. Consider yourself lucky you live in a world where second chances are given so easily. Consider yourself lucky I was not the one to stop you, because I am more powerful than you and Twilight put together. And most importantly, consider yourself very, very lucky to be alive. Do I make myself clear?”

Starlight gulped. “C-crystal, sir.”

“Good,” said Time Turner. He backed away, and with another stomp of his hoof, the world returned to normal. The fury that he once held vanished instantly, replaced with a seemingly-friendly smile, and he trotted away as though nothing had happened.

And yet, Starlight could never look at him the same way again. She stood there in silence, shaking uncontrollably, wishing for nothing more than to shrink down and disappear. She closed her eyes tightly, feeling the tears soak into her coat, when she felt a wing wrap itself around her body, and another wipe the tears from her eyes.

“H-huh?” Starlight opened her eyes and found herself standing beside a grey pegasus mare, the same mailpony that had barged into Twilight’s castle the day they’d learned she disappeared. Though the mailpony’s eyes refused to remain in one place, she gazed at Starlight with nothing but sympathy.

“Are you okay? He didn’t scare you too bad, did he?”

Starlight sniffled. “P-pretty bad. How could you tell?”

“I... I’ve known the Doctor for a while know,” said the mailpony. “When he learned about what you did, he was angrier than I’ve ever seen him in my life. I don’t know what he said to you, but I’ve known he’s had it out for you for a while.”

Starlight exhaled deeply. “I... I can’t blame him, honestly. I mean, nearly destroying Equestria is one thing, but nearly erasing the entire plane from time itself?”

“Hey, no,” said the mailmare. “None of that now.”

“But—”

“Nope, nuh-uh,” said the mailpony. Her tone was firm, yet any anger that it held was clearly not directed at Starlight. “You’re not going to be beating yourself up for something that’s already been fixed. And you’d better believe I’ll be having a few words with the Doctor about this tonight. You’ll be getting an apology from him, whether he wants to give it or not.”

“T-thanks,” said Starlight. Already she could feel the terror evaporating in the warm feathers embracing her. “I just... I dunno. I find it hard to believe he’d listen to you.”

“Don’t worry, he will,” the mailpony reassured. “If there’s one soul in the multiverse he always listens to, it’s me.”

“How’d you meet him, anyway?”

The mailpony flinched at the question, her feathers shifting across Starlight’s back. Finally, she let out a sigh. “I... I just ran into him one day. The same day I lost my daughter.”

Starlight let out a gasp. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be,” the mailpony replied. “It’s not your fault. There... there wasn’t anything I could do, really. It all just happened so suddenly...” She sniffled slightly, and Starlight wrapped a hoof around her. “He was there for me when nopony else was. When I thought there was nopony left in the world who really cared about me. If... If he hadn’t stopped me from doing something foolish, I wouldn’t be alive right now.”

Starlight felt a pang of sadness strike deep into her heart. She reached out with her neck and gently nuzzled the grey pegasus. There wasn’t anything else she could think to say, but she didn’t need to. Their shared touch was enough to soothe away both of their sorrows.

“Thanks,” said the mailpony. “The Doctor... I really do think he is a good pony at heart. He cares so much about the world, and he’s never once gotten angry at me, or yelled at me, or even raised his voice at me. But when I saw him get mad at you, I... I’ll admit, I was scared. I was completely terrified of what he might do to you.”

“It’s... it’s okay,” Starlight reassured. “I think I’ll be okay. And thank you, miss...”

“Ditzy Doo.” She managed to crack a smile as she replied. “And if the Doctor ever scares you again, just tell me as soon as you can, alright? I’ll be sure to set him straight.”

“I will,” said Starlight. “And thank you, Ditzy.”

————————

The party had lasted well into the evening, and then well into the night, and then so far into the earliest hours of the morning. By that time, almost every other pony had gone back home for the night, and the Royal Sisters had returned to their duties. But the Gatewatch remained, and Twilight remained there with them, alongside her closest circle of friends.

As the celebration finally drew to a close, Twilight met them all outside the castle, gathered together with the Royal Sisters and all of her other friends.

“Thank you all for being my guests, everypony. It was so nice getting to see you all here.” She leveled a glare at Liliana. “Except for you. I don’t know what you said to Rarity, but it was clearly over the line.”

“Oh come on,” Liliana replied. “It was only a prank. Surely a friend would recognize that it’s all in good fun?”

“You’re not my friend,” Twilight shot back. “The rest of you are fine, just so we’re clear.”

Liliana rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’m never coming back to this plane, just so you know. You and Cloak Boy can feel free to prance about here as much as you want.”

“Good,” said Twilight.

“A-hem,” said Chandra. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“You mean our bodies?” Nissa chimed in.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Twilight replied. “I’d asked Time Turner about it, and he said the transformative magic surrounding this plane only holds as long as you’re within it. When you leave, you should revert to your natural forms.”

Starlight’s eyes went wide. “You asked what now?”

“Oh, that’s right!” said Twilight. “I forgot to tell you about him. He’s another planeswalker from Equestria, just like me. Have you met him, Starlight?”

Starlight laughed nervously, and waved a hoof. “W-what, him? Naw, never heard of him my life!”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s great and all, but that wasn’t what I was talking about,” said Chandra. “You’re our friend, Twilight! Well, with most of us, I guess. Either way, that means you’re a part of the team!”

“A part of the team?” said Twilight. “Wait, you don’t mean...?”

Gideon stepped forward, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight. “I believe that would be your formal invitation to the Gatewatch, Twilight. Or would you prefer ‘Your Highness?’”

Twilight flushed. “Just Twilight is fine, thanks. I... I really don’t know about joining the Gatewatch, though. I have so many responsibilities here, I don’t know if I’ll ever have much time to go traveling the multiverse with you.”

“You don’t have to spend all of your time with us,” said Jace. “You can even stay here, if you like. If there’s ever a dire emergency, we’ll come to you.”

Twilight blinked. “Really? W-well, in that case, um... I may have to think about this for a bit.”

“What’s there to think about?” Rainbow interjected. “You get to save the multiverse from evil! That’s like, the coolest job ever!”

“Sounds to me like a pretty necessary job, too,” said Applejack. “If something’s threatening the whole dang multiverse, Ah reckon it wouldn’t take long for that threat to reach our universe, too. Shoot, it’d probably be more or less the same as saving Equestria, when you get right down to it.”

Twilight paused for a moment to consider Applejack’s words. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Thanks, Applejack. But how exactly do I join? Is there a form to fill out?”

“There’s no bureaucracy, thankfully,” said Jace. “All you need to do is raise your hand— er, hoof, say you’ll keep watch, and what reasons you’ll be watching with us for. In fact, you’re free to say whatever else you like.”

“Anything, huh?” said Twilight. She grinned, and thoughtfully tapped a hoof to her chin. “I think I have an idea about that, now that you mention it.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” said Chandra. “Let’s hear it!”

Twilight closed her eyes, and let in a deep breath. She’d called to mind of everything she fought for, all of the things that were most important to her, and everything she ever valued. Then, as she raised her hoof into the air, the words came to her without even a second thought.

“So that friendships may flourish, I will keep watch.”

————————

Oath of Twilight{u/r}W

Legendary Enchantment

When Oath of Twilight enters the battlefield, you gain 3 life.

Planeswalker spells you control can’t be countered.

Loyalty abilities of planeswalkers you control can’t be countered by spells or abilities.

“So that friendships may flourish, I will keep watch.”

Author's Note

AAaaaaaand we’re done! That was quite a ride, wasn’t it? Writing the different interactions between each set of characters was super fun, and I’m already looking forward to what comes next.

As for what that “what comes next” is, you’ll have to wait for the epilogue to see exactly. Thankfully, it should be fairly short, and I anticipate it will be uploaded soon, possibly even in a few hours.

In any case, I’m glad to have taken you along with my on this journey into the multiverse. Hopefully I’ll see you all around for the sequel! :twilightsmile:

Epilogue: Baneful Omens

“...And that concludes my report, Lord Bolas.”

Nicol Bolas scratched his chin thoughtfully as Ral Zarek finished his story, kneeling in a pose of complete supplication. Seeing a planeswalker bow before him was yet another reminder of his own power, and his Meditation Realm was already a masterwork of self-indulgence, an entire plane of monuments to his image. Even Niv-Mizzet would find his vanity excessive, a thought which only served to further his own pride.

“Interesting,” said Bolas. “This... ‘Twilight Sparkle’ sounds eerily similar to mythical creatures I’d heard stories of in my youth.”

Ral raised his eyebrows, still unmoving from his submissive pose. “Your youth, Lord Bolas?”

“Indeed,” said Bolas. “The alicorns were a race native to the plane of Concordia, or so the apocryphal legends had told. If the stories are to be believed, Concordia was destroyed in a cataclysm two-hundred thousand years ago, long before even I had graced the multiverse with my magnificent presence.”

Ral Zarek’s eyes went wide. Bolas grinned, knowing he had the Izzet Guildmage’s full attention. “Two hundred thousand?”

“Yes, I know. It’s hard to imagine a time when reality didn’t exist to cater to my whims. But it was there nonetheless.”

“And what should we do with this information, Lord Bolas?” asked Ral.

Lord Bolas paused. Ideas circulated within his mind, swirling with a scope that would rupture the brains of lesser beings who tried to comprehend them. That was to say, all beings not named Nicol Bolas.

“Send for Tezzeret,” said Bolas. “Tell him to report to me on the Gitaxians’ progress in New Phyrexia. If their planar portal is nearing completion, then I believe I will have another task for him shortly.”

Ral Zarek bowed his head. “Yes, Lord Bolas.”

————————

Your Entire World Forsaken

Ongoing Scheme

(An ongoing scheme remains face up until it’s abandoned.)

As you set this scheme in motion, choose an opponent.

Whenever the chosen player taps a land for mana, that land doesn’t untap during its controller’s next untap step.

At the beginning of your opponents’ end step, they may pay any amount of mana. If the total amount of mana paid this way is 8 or more, abandon this scheme.

————————

Tezzeret’s etherium surveillance drone zipped through the bowels of the Lumengrid, winding itself through the nightmarish maze of pipes, wires, contraptions, and gleaming metal. Eventually, guided by the extensive map Tezzeret had imprinted on it, it made its way to the deepest chamber, where all the of the most important tests were conducted.

There, standing on a large darksteel balcony, Jin-Gitaxias himself oversaw a massive chamber where an inactive planar portal lay in the center. Right in the portal’s nexus, a captured Neruok human, still miraculously untouched by the Glistening Oil, was bound in chains.

“Initiate test number four-thousand, three-hundred and seventy-six,” said Jin-Gitaxias.

At his command, a grotesque, vaguely humanoid abomination of equal parts flesh and metal walked over to the far wall, where a massive lever was embedded. The horrific Phyrexian ignored the Neurok’s shouts for mercy, and flipped the switch with a ker-chunk.

Then, in a blinding flash of crackling energy and an ear-shattering scream of agony, the human was annihilated.

“Begin recording,” said Jin-Gitaxias. “Test number four-thousand, three-hundred and seventy-six. Results: failure. Researcher’s commentary: Another test subject annihilated by the energies of the Blind Eternities. In more than a year since the first prototype, we have made no signs of progress. I am beginning to fear—”

Jin-Gitaxias interrupted himself, the space that might have been his eyes turning towards a glittering silver shape. “Cease recording,” he said. “There is an unidentified object in the portal nexus. Bring it to me.”

A hoverdrone with a single eye glided from the ceiling, towards the portal nexus. It grasped the item in its six insectoid legs, before flying over and dropping it into Jin-Gitaxias’s awaiting palm.

The praetor’s jaws split open into a rictus grin as his spindly fingers caressed the artifact, a silver amulet without a chain, forged into a very distinctive shape.

“Fascinating,” said Jin-Gitaxias. “Very fascinating, indeed...”

————————

Planar Amulet 5

Legendary Artifact

7, T: Search your library for a creature card, put it onto the battlefield, then shuffle your library.

“Our tests show that this artifact will shield its wearer from the chaos of the Blind Eternities. When paired with our portal technology, there is no plane we cannot reach.”
— Jin-Gitaxias, Core Augur

Author's Note

To be continued...

Training Grounds

It had taken a moment for Time Turner to refocus his attention on the mana line that would lead him to Twilight, but once he did following it proved to be surprisingly easy. Almost boring, even. He’d not seen another soul within the Rubblebelt, no doubt thanks to his little monster-fighting episode scaring people away from his general location.

Of course, even if he saw any others, they wouldn’t have seen him thanks to the perception filter he threw up over himself. He wasn’t especially well-versed in illusion magic, but he’d learned enough of it since the Mending to keep himself from being noticed. He couldn’t afford to allow his presence in the multiverse to become common knowledge, not with the enemy he’d be making in the near future. Bitterness tinged his thoughts as he remembered his old mentor, and the humiliating defeat that Teferi had suffered. Perhaps if he had been there, things would have turned out differently.

Time Turner shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to be worrying about him. That time would come soon enough.

It had taken more than an hour before he left the Rubblebelt, and as he did the change became noticeable almost immediately. Broken roads and overgrown paths gave way to well-maintained streets and solid stone buildings. More importantly, there were actually people around, making their way across the city to take care of whatever errands they had that day.

Staring at the populated scene, Time Turner inhaled sharply, and hoped that his illusion would hold.

————————

Chandra had led Twilight through the building to an outdoor hallway, which opened up to a courtyard on the interior. Rays of golden sunlight from shone on a carpet of grass and shrubbery, one of the few green spaces Twilight had seen since arriving on Ravnica.

In the courtyard, Nissa stood beside Gideon and Jace. Her eyes were closed in deep concentration, and a powerful aura of green mana gathered around her. When she opened her eyes again, a series of lines began to carve themselves into the courtyard’s ground, pulsing and emanating with raw power. Gideon and Jace then began to glow with mana of their own—white and blue, respectively—and the lines pulsed ever stronger with magic, circling and twisting around each other in abstract patterns.

Finally, with a flash of light, the lines disappeared. In their place was a circle in the center of the courtyard, a large patch of land where the ground itself seemed to glow with power, and surrounding it all was a golden, translucent dome of energy.

As Twilight watched the display, she perched herself on top of the balustrade and leaned over, her front legs and torso hanging over the scene below. As the three planeswalkers finished their ritual, Gideon took notice of Twilight’s presence.

“Hello there, Twilight! You’re just in time!”

“Gyaaah!” Twilight let out a scream as the air flew past her, and she found herself lying on the ground below with a mouthful of dirt.

“Are you okay?”

Twilight opened her eyes and looked upwards, seeing Nissa staring down at her with... something. Most likely concern, but Nissa’s eyes made her emotions remarkably difficult to read.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Twilight. She forcefully spat to the side, ridding her mouth of the acrid taste of grass and soil.

Gideon approached Twilight and knelt down, offering a hand. “Apologies for startling you. You’re not hurt, are you?”

Twilight reached out with a hoof, allowing herself to be pulled back upright. Despite Gideon’s imposing stature, there was a gentleness to his touch that brought a smile to Twilight’s face. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’ve crashed a lot worse than this, believe me.” As she stood back on four legs, Twilight stepped forward, taking a closer look at the shimmering dome that had engulfed the center of the courtyard. “What is this?”

“An energy suppression field,” said Jace. “Within the boundaries of this barrier, any spell or physical impact will be dampened to minimize the harm it would cause.”

“Oh!” said Twilight. “You mean like the dueling grounds ancient unicorns used to practice magical combat! This must be what Chandra meant by training!”

“Indeed!” said Gideon. “Jace told me that your species has large amounts of raw magical power. I’d like to see some of that for myself!”

Twilight glanced at the training barrier. Its magic seemed plenty powerful at first appearance, but she had no idea of its true limitations. That uncertainty had already begun to manifest, bubbling up uncomfortably inside her stomach. “I’m, uh... I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. There’s a reason I don’t usually go all out with my magic.”

“Scaredy cat!” Chandra’s voice called from above.

“What?” Twilight called back. “I am not!”

Chandra crawled up over the railing and jumped off, landing feet-first onto the ground with a thud. “Pssht, don’t lie. You’re just afraid ‘cause you know I’d kick you right in your tatooed little butt.”

“Tattoo?” said Twilight. “What are you talking about?” Her eyes drifted unconsciously toward her own hindquarters, and a sudden realization brought her head snapping back to glare at Chandra. “Okay, first of all, that’s not a tattoo, that’s my cutie mark. And second, it’s not on my butt, it’s on my flank.”

“If you say so,” said Chandra. Even through the faux-dismissiveness of her reply, she was unable to conceal her massive grin. “I’ll still kick your butt, though.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine. I’ll do...” she paused, and turned towards Gideon. “...what exactly are we doing here, again? I get the training part, but I’m still not sure how this is going to work.”

“A simple duel,” said Gideon. “You’ll be free to use any means available to you to combat your opponent. If your foe remains down for ten seconds, or gets knocked down three times, you win.”

“So, like hoofboxing,” said Twilight. Her eyes darted around as her mind turned to images of the very violent sport of her homeland. “I’m uh... not so sure about that, actually.”

“You don’t have to go through with this if you’re not comfortable with it,” Gideon replied. “You can sit aside and watch us, if you prefer.”

“It’s really fun,” said Chandra. “You’re missing out if you skip this, let me tell you.”

Twilight glanced at Chandra, then at the barrier, then back to Gideon. She did want to make sure that she could defend herself against whatever threats she might face in the wider multiverse. Finally, she relented. “Alright, fine. I’ll join you. Just don’t hurt me, alright?”

“That’s the spirit!” said Chandra. “And don’t worry about getting hurt. You’ll just be lightly singed, that’s all.”

“Wait, singed?”

Just before Twilight could protest any further, Chandra ran over to the training grounds, the barrier rippling as she passed through it. “Hey! What are you waiting for?”

With a sigh, Twilight stepped forward. She knew she wasn’t going to talk Chandra out of it now. The barrier tingled against her skin as she stepped through, and she stood herself across Chandra, at the opposite corner of the makeshift arena.

Chandra smirked in a manner that looked uncomfortably like the face of a predator. “You ready for this?”

Twilight inhaled, then let out a deep breath. This was a training exercise, she reminded herself. Jace wouldn’t really let her get hurt. Recalling the dueling stances depicted in historical unicorn texts, she shifted her body into a sturdy, wide-legged position, and lowered her horn.

“I’m ready,” said Twilight. “Do your worst!”

“Alright! You asked for it, Sparky!” said Chandra. “FLAME ON!”

Chandra’s shout was so intense that the air itself seemed to shake from its ferocity. The pegasus magic in Twilight’s wings alerted her to a rising air current, and the heat that lapped against her skin the next instant made its cause unquestionably certain.

Then, not one second later, Chandra ignited. Twilight would have described her hair color as ‘fiery’ before, but in no circumstance had she imagined that it would be so strikingly literal. She blazed with such an intensity that Twilight was forced to shield her eyes, as though she were staring directly into Celestia’s sun.

She barely had enough time to react when the flames barreling straight towards her. With a single thrust of her gauntlet, Chandra launched a massive stream of fire, expanding outwards into a broad cone shape that threatened to completely engulf her.

With no opportunity open to dodge the attack, Twilight instinctively threw up a quick shield spell, a shimmering dome of purple magic surrounding her. The fire impacted the shield with an unnatural concussive force, and Twilight could feel a dull pain throbbing in her horn as the barrier began to crack. Even with the full brunt of the flames kept away, the temperature of the air skyrocketed. Twilight’s hair became matted with sweat as the heat began baking her body alive.

Then, without warning, her barrier shattered. As its last remnant flickered out of existence, light blinded Twilight’s vision as the flames washed over her body. Ignoring the protests of her more rational mind, Twilight let out a scream, her primal instincts expecting her to die as a charred husk of her former self.

To her surprise, she found herself lying on the ground only a moment later, still fully conscious. Her entire body was covered in a sharp sting, yet it was far milder than she expected, barely more than an irritation. As she struggled to her hooves, she could hear Gideon’s voice counting aloud.

“Four! Five! Six!”

The counting abruptly ceased as Twilight finally uprighted herself, gasping for breath. She shot Chandra a pointed glare.

The fire in Chandra’s hair suddenly extinguished itself, and she immediately burst into laughter, nearly doubling over on the spot. “Great fires of Regatha! Look at you!”

“H-hey! There’s nothing funny about this!” Twilight shot back. “Just what are you even—”

A breeze came by, and Twilight was suddenly made aware of an unusual chill running up her tail. When she turned around to look, she found all of the hair on her tail completely burned off, leaving a tiny, blackened appendage right at the base of her spine.

“My tail!” Twilight shrieked. “What did you do to my tail!?”

Chandra wheezed, allowing the rest of her breath to catch up with her. “Hey, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Twilight could feel every muscle in her body tense at once. She was a princess. A princess. Millions of ponies across Equestria looked up to her as a leader and role model. She couldn’t afford to look anything less than presentable in public, and the hair on her tail would take weeks to grow back, if not months. And just what would Rarity think?

Chandra immediately took notice of Twilight’s sudden change in demeanor, and any amusement that she expressed had vanished. “Huh? Hey, come on, it’s not that bad,” she reassured. “It’ll be fine! You can probably just find some spell to grow it back.”

No. No, she couldn’t. The hair in a pony’s mane and tail had a special magic aura to maintain its shape and color, one barely understood by Equestria’s top magical scholars. Artificially regrowing that hair with its aura intact was virtually impossible. And worst of all, Chandra had no idea how any of it worked, or just what she had done. Rage boiled within Twilight’s veins, and she could feel it engulfing every part of her body. At the same time, however, an idea began to form in the back of her mind.

Pyromancy was considered a very dangerous magic in Equestria, and notorious for being extremely difficult to control. Only those given express license by Celestia herself were even allowed to practice it. But Twilight understood something that Equestria’s magical scholars didn’t. Pyromancy wasn’t a magic of books and scrolls, of memorization, or of mentally reciting spell formulas. It wasn’t structured or rigorous like unicorn magic was broadly assumed to be. It was a magic of emotion; a magic of pure, distilled feeling given shape by force of will.

And Twilight had felt that kind of magic before. Once, when she’d been so intensely consumed by frustration that her body literally burst into flames. That was Chandra’s power. Red magic, the very same magic that Twilight had come to realize was a part of herself.

Anger gave way to understanding, then to the excitement of a new possibility. “Hey Chandra! You know the old saying, ‘fight fire with fire?’”

“Duh,” said Chandra. “You should fight everything with fire.”

A grin spread across Twilight’s muzzle. “Well, if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to do that right now!”

Chandra blinked. “Wait, what?”

Twilight focused her mind inward, on the raw passion that she had felt so many times throughout her life. For her studies, for her friends, and for everything that she had experienced along with them. Mana flowed into her, and once she gathered enough, her body erupted with power. Twilight felt a blazing heat ignite from her mane, and though her gaze remained firmly on Chandra, in the bottom corner of her eye she could see her coat turn pure white.

“What the hell!?” Chandra jumped back so suddenly that she nearly fell over backwards. She rapidly assumed a defensive stance, but by then it was already too late.

Twilight shot into the air like a rocket, leaving a blazing red trail behind her. As she neared the top of the shimmering dome, she turned her head downwards. She could feel her horn literally igniting, sending a jet of flame in Chandra’s direction.

Chandra raised her arms, placing them in front of her in a cross. She grunted as the fire impacted her, and her body was pushed back slightly. She remained standing straight upright even as the force of impact shoved her backwards, leaving a pair of short grooves in the grass as her feet dragged across the ground.

As the fiery assault died down, Chandra looked up and met Twilight’s eyes. “Hah! That’s nothing!” she boasted. “Let me show you how real pyromancy is done!”

Chandra’s hair ignited once again, and this time she let loose with a truly massive display of fire and fury. Dozens upon dozens of incendiary projectiles erupted from her hands, ribbons of pure flame that spiraled and twisted in the air, converging upon Twilight from all directions.

This time, however, Twilight was ready. She called upon an ancient and powerful magic, one that had left hundreds of Equestria’s most powerful unicorns utterly defenseless. It was a spell that was spoken of in whispered tones among the plane’s greatest scholars. A spell held in reverence by those it served, and scorned in the epitaphs of mages unlucky enough to be on its receiving end.

Steeling her nerves, Twilight let in a deep breath, and cast counterspell. In an instantaneous flash of blue light, all of Chandra’s fiery rockets dissipated into nothing.

Chandra threw her arms into the air. “What!? Oh, come on! That’s not fair!” She immediately followed her outcry by turning to glare at Jace, who wore a very self-satisfied smirk. “Can it, you!”

“I didn’t say anything,” said Jace.

“I know you were thinking it!” Chandra shot back.

“A-hem,” said Twilight. “I’d be paying more attention to me if I were you.”

With a startled cry, Chandra turned back up to look at Twilight. By then, however, she was already gone. In another flash of light, Twilight had teleported right behind Chandra’s back.

“Gotcha!” said Twilight.

Chandra turned around, and was promptly greeted by Twilight hovering just inches from her face. Twilight’s horn began to glow red-hot, burning with the heat of a hundred-thousand embers.

Chandra’s face suddenly went pale. All she could bring herself to do was silently mouth a single four-letter word.

A second jet of flame erupted from Twilight’s horn. It was no more powerful than the last, yet at point-blank range there was nothing that Chandra could do to defend against it. The force of the attack sent her flying through the air, soaring more than a dozen feet backwards, before crash-landing into the dirt.

Nissa let out a gasp. “Chandra!”

Chandra gave no response. She lay sprawled on the ground in a heap, showing no signs of movement. Immediately, Gideon began counting.

“One! Two!”

As the count continued, Twilight felt a pride welling up in her chest. It was hard to imagine that, just one day before, she had felt utterly helpless. The fire that burned in her mane died down, and she looked over the scene of her victory.

“...Nine! Ten! Knockout!” Gideon called out. Beaming, he immediately headed into the barrier to greet Twilight. “Great job, Twilight! I have to say, I’m very impressed. I don’t think I’ve met a planeswalker with such a versatile command of spellcraft.”

“Thanks,” Twilight responded. She could already feel any remaining tension in her body beginning to relax. For a man with such imposing stature, Gideon carried with him a remarkable gentleness.

“Chandra!” Nissa called out. “Chandra, are you okay?”

Twilight felt a sudden pit forming in her stomach. She’d nearly forgotten about who she was dueling to begin with. She and Gideon both turned to see Chandra lying on the ground, completely motionless.

“Ch-chandra?” said Twilight. “Chandra? Chandra?” Before she knew it Twilight was by her side, frantically prodding at her with a hoof. “Chandra, please wake up!”

Twilight had barely even noticed that Gideon had already come to Chandra’s aid. He held Chandra’s hand in his own, placing a thumb against her wrist. “Her pulse is steady. It looks like she’s unharmed, thank the gods.”

“Nggh. Gideon?” Chandra’s eyes pried themselves open. With her hand in Gideon’s, she slowly rose to her feet.

“Chandra!” Twilight promptly stood upright, wrapping her front legs tightly around Chandra’s waist. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t meant to hurt you!”

“Whoa!” said Chandra. “Hey, easy there. I’m okay.” She reached out and placed her hand on top of Twilight’s head, ruffling her mane affectionately.

“Oh, thank Celestia!” said Twilight. “I was so worried!”

“Nah, don’t be,” said Chandra. “I promise I can take it. Besides, you beat me. You should be happy about that, right? Even if you did cheat.”

Twilight couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Somehow, that had seemed like the most Chandra thing she could have said. Her eyes drifted towards the west, noticing that the sun was already well into the afternoon sky.

“Say, Gids, what do you say you and I go at it?” said Chandra.

“I, er... you should get some rest first,” said Gideon. “It’s not healthy to keep going after exhausting yourself like that.”

“He’s right,” said Twilight. “Besides, it’s getting late. I’d like to go in and get some reading done before the end of the day. I want to study a few illusion techniques I can use to disguise myself and, well...” her eyes drifted, briefly, to the singed, rat-like appendage that some would call her tail.

“I can give you a few pointers before dinner, if you’d like,” said Jace.

Twilight smiled. “I think I’d like that, thanks.”

————————

Firemane AspectRR

Enchantment — Aura

Enchant creature or planeswalker

If enchanted permanent would deal noncombat damage to a permanent or player, it deals that much damage plus 1 to that permanent or player instead.

Author's Note

I think we can safely say by now that this isn’t really a side-project anymore. This fic, I can say with some confidence, is the one that I’ve had by far the most fun writing in recent times.

I’ll still strive to finish my other fics, of course, but this one may be updated with slightly more frequency until I can get my groove back with my more ambitious projects.

Of course, that’s not to say that there isn’t a fair bit of ambition that I have for the My Little Planeswalker multiverse, going forward. You’ll just have to wait and see where that goes. :trollestia: